Wedding planning is like dodgems. Just as you get in the rhythm of things, ducking obstacles right left and centre, suddenly something comes from nowhere and knocks the wind out of you.

David Burton


Marquee. Dodge. All sorted thanks to the lovely local Scottish Borders' company, Best Intent.

Band. Dodge. We've booked the five-piece band Callandish for covers and ceilidh. This is a Scottish wedding after all; it would be rude not to reel.

Caterer. Dodge. Plus various family members have very kindly (and I hope happily) offered to make our favourite cakes - there's no fruitcake like my grandmother's, or chocolate cake like my soon-to-be mother-in-law's.

Worthy of a glory dance? I almost feel like signing up for that silly programme Total Wipeout.


But then, the photographer came along and crash (or splash).

The main problem, of course, is that 95 percent of the photographers I like are already booked. We've already established that I'm not the only person who thought the August Bank Holiday would be a good day for a wedding (see B&B Gate Strikes for more).

Of the remaining five percent, most favour the vintage, washed out, sepia look. Or the good old-fashioned 'school photo' look - a classic to be sure, but somehow I don't envisage grey poker faced wedding snaps.

Plus, I haven't come across a bride who's completely happy with her wedding pictures. Often one side of the family seems to get neglected, whilst the progress of one hot teenage cousin around the dance-floor is thoroughly documented.


'Keep a close eye and make sure you tell them exactly what you want,' say the have-been-brides nodding their heads knowingly.

But how are you meant to know exactly what you want when you've never done any of this before? And most importantly, how do you make sure you don't just end up with shots of your hot underage cousin?

Anyway, I'm picking myself up off the ground, trying to jolly myself with the thought that a photojournalist friend could always be begged at the last minute if all else fails. We may end up with action 'breaking news' style shots but at least they wouldn't be washed out...

Okay, so I'm squinting my eyes and sizing up other foam batons to come. I see wedding invitations (not to mention order of service), finalising the guest list (to invite second cousins and plus ones or not, that is the question) and biggest of all: The Dress.


But before coming round to The Dress I need to start The Training. At the moment, I'm pretty solidly committed to a downward spiral. Moving city, country and flat have all served as excuses to keep pre-wedding exercise safely parked on a back burner.

Frankly, I need inspiration and advice. There are so many dos and don'ts blossoming on the exercise grapevine that I'm never quite sure if what I'm doing is right. Am I bulking, burning or elongating? How long do I need to run to make a difference? Is one time of day better than another? How soon afterwards should I eat?


Professional help is called for. So, you can imagine how excited I was to hear Madonna's Gym, HardCandy Fitness, has opened in Santiago.

No more excuses, I've booked a pre-wedding personal training session for both Tom and I. No, Tom didn't have much of a say, but who could resist Madonna's gym?! Details in full (pretty and not) to come...