Wedding time . . .

One of our key reasons for staying in the Netherlands into the autumn month of September was to celebrate the wedding of Lizette and Johan. Lizette is Jolanda’s niece – an accomplished violinist and music teacher, living in Utrecht. Lizette and Johan have been an item for some time now – and it was wonderful to hear, earlier this year, of their intended marriage.

Utrecht is a great little city in the eastern corner of the Randstad (basically the area capturing Holland’s four largest cities – the others being the Hague, Amsterdam and Rotterdam). It’s hard not to love Utrecht with its picture perfect canals, cobbled streets, daggy cafes and old buildings, some dating back to the middle ages. It’s also a place, which busts with students – Utrecht hosting the Netherlands’ largest university – which creates a youthful vibe to the place.

Danielle and Vivien were asked to be bridesmaids. And what a couple of rascally bridesmaids they turned out to be . . . they had a whale of a time and looked absolutely beautiful.

It was 24 years and 360 days ago that Jolanda and I were married in Wassener at the Raadhuis de Paauw (or the “Rat House” as referred to by my kiwi mates trying to find their way there by taxi). The general order of play hasn’t changed much. The formal ceremony conducted by an ambtenaar (a civil servant who, among other things, officiates weddings) is followed by cake, coffee and champers. Then a smaller party (usually close family and friends) go for dinner before meeting up again with all the other guests at a big knees-up in the evening.

It was a magic day. Rained the whole time but I don’t think anyone really noticed or cared. The formal ceremony was conducted in the Paushuize – built by the only Dutch pope in the early 1500s but who curiously never lived there. Dinner (yes we were “A list” guests, just quietly) was in the Podium onder de Dom – the Dom being a wonderful old church with the tallest tower in the Netherlands – and the party in the evening was in the well-known (well in Utrecht anyway) Winkel van Sinkel.

Felt a bit dusty the next morning . . .