The Aberdeen Chronicles pt.2

I wrote this in my notebook on Sunday...(continued from here)

Listening to: 'Mardy Bum' by Arctic Monkeys [Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not]

1.50pm. I'm sitting on the train - the 13:50 East Coast rail service from Aberdeen to London King's Cross. I'll be reaching Stevenage at 20:53 (assuming there are no delays) and then on to Cambridge - I should be home by about 10pm.

I wanted to write another update from Aberdeen, but frankly I was having too much fun. I've had a wonderful weekend, full of exploration and matrimonial joy (not mine)...oh and babies (also not mine). Between the time I left Cambridge on Friday morning and the time I went to sleep last night, I'd taken 275 photos. They'll probably be whittled down to about 10 that are worth flickring, but still, it's been an excellent trip.

My verdict on Aberdeen can be summed up in three words:

1. grey
2. fishy
3. seagully (yes, I know it's not a real word)

Oh and one more word:

 4.  omgtherearesomanygoodlookingmenhere!!! (what?! that's not a word either? bollocks)

I did a lot of walking around on Friday - about 5 hrs in total. My 'room' at the SYHA hostel was in fact a dorm with two bunk beds, and when I got to my room, the top two bunks were already occupied. I attempted to make small talk but my roomies were a tad unresponsive - they were pleasant enough I suppose, but the subtle-but-not-so-subtle-really rolling of the eyes when I told them I was from Cambridge was a bit of a giveaway. I txtd Shorty and we had a little laugh about it, and then I went to sleep.

Saturday was also fun but tiring, albeit in a completely different way. I hurriedly straightened my hair and painted my nails (which looked disastrous, but *meh*) and found my way to my friend's place. I got dressed while he went off to buy a new shirt (easier than ironing the ones he had, apparently) and once I was dolled up and ready, we made the 45 min taxi journey up to Crathes Castle for the wedding ceremony.

I love Sri Lankan weddings (except when I get pimped to all and sundry) but I must say, British weddings are growing on me. There were less than 50 people at the ceremony, which was in a quaint garden at the castle. The ceremony itself was simple and intimate, and the couple looked relaxed and happy. We spent a few hours at the castle - most of the guests sipping champagne, and me broodily gazing at one of the bride's colleague's one year-old baby.

After the couple had been sufficiently papped, we moved on to a nearby hotel for the 'wedding breakfast' and reception. The food was exquisite. The atmosphere, once again, was relaxed and happy. There was a quiz about the couple and their favourite songs, places etc...our table annihilated the competition and won some yummy chocolates for our troubles - I really think 'pub quiz person' is my new calling.

The reception was a good laugh. About 50 more people turned up, and there was a lot of merry making at the bar (or chatting/gurgling with the bridesmaid's 8 week-old baby, if you were me). The band was excellent - I've never seen a band that can perform Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Clash, Bryan Adams and a host of Scottish ceilidh dances with such ease and perfection...and I've never seen a man (the lead singer/keyboardist/accordian player) looking so incredibly sexy in a kilt! I watched the ceilidhs from afar, partly because I didn't want to lose my footing on the slippery floor, and partly 'cos I was worried about any possible wardrobe malfunctions. You'll be pleased to know there were no accidents.

So yeah, that was my weekend. Photos will follow. I'm not sure where I am at the moment, but I know we're somewhere between Dundee and Edinburgh - 1 1/2 hrs gone, 6 1/2 to go!

To be continued...