Our Story

Prelude

The convoy pulled up to the site mid Friday afternoon and began to pitch tents and unload the staggering amount of supplies we'd brought. The Groomsguard (our joint groomsmen/bridesmaid squad) and a few additional friends and family were indispensable in setting everything up. They worked until dark and eventually retired for pizza and lightsaber battles by the campfire.

The following morning was damp. A thick mist had set in around the forest with a forecast of heavy rain being promised for the same time our ceremony was scheduled. With no other option, we continued to setup for an outdoor wedding while Bethan was whisked away for the equally arduous task of getting hair and make-up done. As each hour passed, the clouds grew darker, and the oncoming downpour felt all but inevitable.

The months flew by in a muddle of brewing, crafting, and spreadsheets. We hand-crafted invitation scrolls to send to guests and worked day after day bringing it all together. In the final few months our lives were largely dictated by a long list of timed project tasks that would alert us each morning of what we should be doing and what deadlines were looming. Coupled with copious checklists we packed several cars with various paraphernalia and started the weekend well-armed.

Preparation

The convoy pulled up to the site mid Friday afternoon and began to pitch tents and unload the staggering amount of supplies we'd brought. The Groomsguard (our joint groomsmen/bridesmaid squad) and a few additional friends and family were indispensable in setting everything up. They worked until dark and eventually retired for pizza and lightsaber battles by the campfire.

The following morning was damp. A thick mist had set in around the forest with a forecast of heavy rain being promised for the same time our ceremony was scheduled. With no other option, we continued to setup for an outdoor wedding while Bethan was whisked away for the equally arduous task of getting hair and make-up done. As each hour passed, the clouds grew darker, and the oncoming downpour felt all but inevitable.

Ceremony

While we can't be certain, we're pretty sure that what transpired next was thanks to some old wisdom we had followed the previous day; Before leaving for the site we had buried a sausage in the garden (not a euphemism) - an act thought to drive off the possibility of rain. Throughout the day we heard reports from people that lived or were staying close by, and a revelation quickly began to form; the Silver Forest was surrounded by bad weather, but our actual ceremony remained untouched.

Well worth the price of a sausage.

While guests assembled and were brought into the ceremonial circle, we were busy frantically getting ready. Bethan had handmade a corset that, at the time, seemed to contain more eyelets than a Dr Martens shoe store and fully aware that we were being waited on Tom frantically laced it up, forgoing some pieces of his own outfit to save on time. It was all worthwhile though when we finally emerged. The sound of music drifted through the trees as our Groomsguard escort greeted us.

The actual ceremony is both a bit of a blur and firmly lodged in our minds. We admitted to each other later that we never really got a look at anyone else while Annie and Chris did us the honour of conducting our handfasting, we said our vows, shared our mead, ran around a fire, and hopped over a broomstick. Once we were able to look over the photographs, we were finally able to see the same joy expressed that we felt on the day.

Celebration

Once everyone had plied themselves with drinks and snacks (buying us time to get some photographs taken) we invited everyone into the mead hall, which had been laid out for the raucous feast to come. We started by thanking everyone present, and those that couldn't be there but had in some way put us both on the path to being there ourselves. Once everyone had piled their plates high we opened the floor to speeches from anyone that wished to speak - an idea we'd been warned against plenty of times, but proved equal parts heartfelt and hilarious. We crowned the 'Marinaded One' (the winner of our joint Stag/Hen party shenanigans) and toasted all those present.

Throughout the day guests were invited to play The Game, and it's during these hours of frivolity that plenty of coins were traded, stolen, bartered, and hoodwinked from between them. We ended up sitting outside by the bar, treated to the incredible musical talents of a five different acts that kindly lent their voices to the event.

As the day drew on, laugher was shared and drinks were imbibed. We completely forgot that we had planned to clear half of the mead hall to make room for a traditionally cheesy wedding disco portion of the evening, instead finding ourselves content with making our own merriment through song, and story, and play.

As darkness settled in and some guests departed for home, the remaining merrymakers gathered outside, eventually forming a new circle around the warmth of a campfire. The hours trickled by and one by one they retired to the relative comfort of their tents until only the dying embers remained.

Aftermath

The promise of a cooked breakfast bap was motivation enough the following day. The rain, that had graciously held off the day before, had now chosen to fall. Tents were quickly packed away and the long task of packing down and cleaning up the site began, possible only due to the help provided by some incredible volunteers.

Eventually arriving back home, it slowly began to dawn on us - our weekend was over, and we couldn't be more happy with how it went.

It was our perfect fantasy woodland handfasting.