Since the beginning of 2023, we have been aware of the date and destination of a family wedding: the son of a cousin and his bride chose to get married in Marrakech. Initially I had already made up my mind that we would go. It was to take place over three days in June.
However, when it came time to make the final decision and book hotels and flights, there was that feeling you get when you have already been to Norway to see the Northern Lights in January and then took out three weeks to go to the far East in February and Amsterdam in May, where to think of going away again felt a little frivolous. With businesses to run and commitments to keep the stark reality came home to roost, that maybe we ought to stay back on the travelling , that we had in fact done enough travelling for this year.
We made the decision not to go. None of the travelling we had done thus far in the year had been on a whim. They had been trips planned and budgeted for over time, especially for a 60th Birthday and for an Anniversary. This wedding was to involve family, and my parents in law, aged and frail as they are, wanted to be with their loved ones and it occurred to me, given their time of life, that my husband and I might not get the opportunity to be with them, in this relaxed and joyous environment and that it was very possible that being absent from the celebration may become a regret for us and particularly for my husband.
The wedding was set for the weekend of 16th June. The Saturday prior to the big fat destination Indian wedding, was to kick off the celebrations and that event was happening in the UK. As my husband and I drove to the ceremony, we spoke in the car and the conversation ended with my persuading my husband that with everyone else being there, both mum and dad may feel his absence and considering we had done so much for ourselves this year doing something to make them happy and be part of the joy they might achieve in our company suddenly took on more importance, than the arguments against going.
When we arrived I informed my cousin our decision had changed and we were going. There was no more room in the hotel the others were staying at, but I was sure I could organise something even at such a last minute. We would have to travel out on Thursday 15th and return on the Monday 19th June.
I got home and the only last minute deals I could find were leaving from Gatwick, which for us meant a trek by car, or an expensive taxi journey, there and back. What I wasn’t aware of was that, there was a direct train that took us into Gatwick. Having gone by train to Amsterdam and enjoyed the experience there was no argument. I booked us into a traditional Morroccon Riad in the old town of Marrakech and we journeyed to Gatwick by train, straight into the North Terminal.
Our flight was slightly delayed and various family members who were travelling from different airports at the same time as us, were communicating. There was a real atmosphere of excitement around this trip. Whilst at the airport my husband saw Michael Gove (member of parliament) sitting behind us in the food court and he went over and spoke to him and had a photo taken too.
As part of the group conversation we were already having with family it was a source of many jokes. When we reached Marrakech we were greeting by the father of the groom at the airport and with his help found our ride and arrived at our Riad. Having set out quite early we were tired so, it was a question of eating supper and going straight to bed.
On the Friday morning we woke and our first thought was to exchange money, and then to get to the hotel mum and dad were staying at. We went into the old town market and even at 8am in the morning it was sweltering. Hats were forgotten in the haste of packing and that was our first purchase. I love to haggle, and I managed to get two sports caps for the equivalent of £10. The vendor was asking for 5 times that so, I believe I did well.
That evening we drove en mass to a location in the desert. It was breathtaking and memorable for any number of reasons, one of which was a camel ride and later on a barbeque.
On the 17th, the Saturday was the day of the Muslim ceremony, what is known as the ‘Nikaah’
We spent the best part of the next day at mum and dads hotel, where we went out for fruit juice at a local smoothie bar and ate a freshly caught lobster later on. There is no substitute for sitting together as a family and enjoying good food.
On the 18th the final celebration was a formal reception, but it wasn’t until very late in the evening.
The three days disappeared in a blink. But every moment was special, every thought around family and what being together would bring in terms of joy was what filled our minds. We laughed and we cried while we laughed and now those memories live on inside us. They become topics of conversation, they become the springboard to plan other things. Destination weddings can be a huge undertaking for family members deeply involved in the event itself. Only they are privy to the stress involved. I know this because my daughter had a destination wedding for her civil ceremony and that was tense but enjoyable, however, when you are a guest and your job is to turn up for the event, then thats what you do and love every part of that and in between you create all the extra bonuses.