My best friend’s wedding — and thinking back to my own

Disclaimer: This post is unlike most of my others. It’s soppy. It’s lovey-dovey. It’s about my wife. It’s about my best friend. It’s about love. Read on if you want; skip it if you want.

I like nostalgia. I like looking back on things. Even the bad things. And this past week I’ve done a lot of looking back on things.

It started on Monday — no, wait. It was a little sooner than that. About two weeks ago my best friend Themba (who is not on any form of social media, or I’d tag him in this post) sent me a WhatsApp: “26 June 2015. Whatever you do, block that date. In fact, block the weekend.” It turned out that him and his stunning fiance had settled on a wedding date. I was thrilled (yes, boys can get thrilled about their best friend’s wedding) for the two of them. They are two of my favourite people.

Then came Monday, when I drove out with them — and their cute-as-hell baby, who also happens to be my godchild (I know, right? Who would trust me with that responsibility for their kid?!?! Lunatics.) — to their venue. And that’s when the nostalgia hit.

As we were chatting about invitations, table arrangements, colours, themes, speeches, bar tabs, flowers, cakes, dresses and all the vital stuff that goes into a wedding, the memories of my wedding came flooding back. I remember talking to Megan about these self-same things! And, man, were the memories fantastic.

It was this feeling that inspired the gallery below. A few shots from our wedding and our honeymoon in London, Rome and Paris.

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