The Wedding pt 1

All my preparations for the wedding were made from the U.K, bar infrequent trips over here to look for venues. We explored all over the city as we were on a very tight budget. The place we nearly went for was Hotel Bosnia in the middle of the city, but we couldn't quite manage it with our finances. We took a trip out to the Hotel Sporta in Vogosca and found it was the perfect place.

I was certain that we should have outside space, as people REALLY smoke in Bosnia. The load of Brits coming over for the occasion I was sure would not appreciate this. Seriously though, they smoke everywhere!! The only places I have found that are free of smoke are the hospital and the cinema... and even in the cinema there is a cafe bar where you can have a cig. I remember when the smoking ban came to the U.K and everyone was saying that all pubs and bars would die a death as noone would be able to smoke in them. Couldn't imagine a time when clubs would be smoke free, and then within a few months we were all used to it and actually preferred it. It is weird, even after my time here, for me to go into a coffee shop and see ash trays.

I digress. So when we found Sporta we were both really happy. Massive place with gorgeous grounds. It seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere, yet only 10 mins drive from the city. Perfect. It also had accommodation for the U.K contingent above the reception area, and across the road in a guest house, that we were assured would be finished by the time we got wed.

View from Sporta

On the Monday before our wedding, however, we called at Sporta to double check everything and found that the guest house across the road was not finished at all. They had sort of forgotten about us. Ahhh Bosnia! So we had to come up with a plan to squeeze nearly 20 people into the apartment above the reception. In the end the manager of Sporta spoke to his neighbours, a normal Bosnian family, and they agreed to let a few of our guys stay with them.

Other than that it went off well.... Mr B did the majority of planning as he was here. It was a bit like that programme "Don't tell the Bride" that we have in the U.K. I had very little knowledge of how the day was going to go. I had my dress and the bridesmaids had theirs, but that was it.

The volcanic ash threatened to stop everyone flying over, but in the end they all got here safe and sound.

I think everyone had fun... I was in too much of a blur to thoroughly enjoy the day until me and Mr B got back to the flat that night. Then we had chance to reflect on the days events and really take it all in. It was only then that I realised how much fun it had been.

There are a lot of little differences between the U.K way of doing things and the way they do them here. For example the groom and the wedding party (not the bride's side) come to collect the bride on the morning of the wedding. Everyone comes by car and as they near the brides "house" they start to beep their horns to let her know they are arriving. I remember hearing the distant horns for the first time and knowing that it was about to start. That is the first and only time my stomach churned. I was still getting ready! Everyone went a little manic then, running here and there and trying to catch a glimpse of the convoy as it approached the venue.

Then there is the bartering for the bride. Mr B's brother had to "negotiate" with my dad for a fair price for his daughter. Personally I think I went at a bargain price, but then, to be fair, I am not the most comely and homely of brides so I guess it was reasonable. I remember when I first heard about this custom I was very hesitant and felt all women's lib about it, but taken in fun it added a certain traditional twist to the day.

The bridesmaids were given the job of going around pinning small flowers to all the guests and, whilst doing that, collecting money for the "bride's family". Traditionally this money would go to the bride's parents as they would have provided a party with food and drink for the wedding convoy. As we were staying in a hotel we just handed out juices and got on with the rest of the day.

At first I was handed to Mr B's brother and his best man, who then accompanied me to the wedding car. Mr B was not allowed to interact with me until after the ceremony. The drive to city hall was one that I will never forget. A convoy of over 30 cars all beeping their horns and driving according to no law of this land. Every car was decorated on arrival at Sporta by a dedicated team of UK lads. This job is normally done by the girls of the family, so when a group of suited guys stepped out to add flowers and ribbons to the wedding cars it caused a great deal of amusement for the Bosnian lot.

City hall was where things went a little more U.K style. It was a hall that seated around 100 people and we got them all seated before I entered, as I had insisted my dad walked me down the aisle. The rest of the ceremony was translated from Bosnian to English by a very average translator, who arrived slightly late so was a bit flustered throughout. Mr B would have done a better translating job. She couldn't really pronounce my name. I had to stop myself from giggling a couple of times.

"yeah and sooooo love each other and do good stuff and you will...ermmmm be ermmmm." blah blah blah.

Once City Hall was done it was time for the mosque and another noisy drive...