Now, last time I flew to Singapore I was doing what has become my standard "fly Thursday night, arrive Friday morning, sleep over, fly back Saturday, back at work Sunday." And as I flew down, bolt upright, wide awake but craving sleep, I promised myself I would never do it again. So with light heart and lighter bank account, I checked into Business Class and proceded to get pissed up the front of the plane.
The wedding day was cool. First I went climbing with the groom, then we ducked home to shower and change and then off to the Shangri-La for a tea ceremony followed by a big banquet full of extended family and business contacts, and two tables of Ian and Bernie's mates - all climbers. As desert ended there were just the two tables left, and about three dozen bottles of wine. "Drink up", orders Ian, so we took the party back to the bridal suite where we were soon evicted for making too much noise. Then up to the bar where we paid too much corkage, and eventually, some hours and several drunken phone calls to people who'd left for bed later, we all hit the sack.
The next morning was pretty rotten, but Andy had it worst. He'd left last (same time as me - about 2:30), caught the 7:30 shuttle to KL and went to the Malaysian Grand Prix. Ouch!(More photos should be accessible here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=36589&id=784253645)
1 comment:
sideboob in that second foto?
PS is someone else's wedding the only news you've got?
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