The belle of Burgh

At 7am on Sunday 28th June, trusty trolley in hand, filled with a weekends worth of finery i boarded my train from Brighton to what i could only envisage as being the wedding of the year. As i hurtled towards Bigby on Sea, and two of my dearest friends Georgina and Riccardo, i knew this would be a weekend to remember...


Arriving in Devon at noon I was met by an entourage of family members wheelding several hundred cup cakes in various sized vessels. Only to be informed, and to no surprise, that George the beautiful bride to be, had been icing since the crack of dawn! I grabbed a box of cakey goodness and was escorted in a land rover across the beach and up to the Island. Maybe it was just the salty wind through the open window but my eyes watered and i was thrilled as could be as we drew up to the splendid green gates,what i could see through them was enough to bring any gal to tears!


Burgh Island. Home to adventures a plenty and thanks to good old Agatha Christie, several murders, would be my residence for the next 2 days! On arrival i was informed that i would be staying in the R.J Mitchell suite. Best known for the invention of the supermarine spitfire this room was an ode to all things aeronautical! I tell no lies, i entered the room to the sound of radio 4 playing out from an original Roberts radio and the sea breeze wafting in through my open balcony doors. Could this be heaven?


With the ceremony starting at 3pm sharp i donned my favourite floral frock and scurried down to explore the rest of the Hotel and surrounding grounds. Seriously, it was as though i had been whisked back to the 1930's. The decor astonishing with every tiny detail as lavish but not showy as i had hoped. Wandering out into the garden, it wasn't too long before i had found the pathway down to the secret cove. Not wanting to become a Poiret-Esq tragedy i whipped off my heels and headed down for a paddle.


Later, in the early hours, the dingy parked up on the shore would become our water taxi and source of much amusement....


...until then there was a ceremony to be had!


Post vows, dazzled by flashing cameras and a steady stream of champagne, we were treated to Charleston dance lessons! A professional dance couple from the mainland walked and talked us through a totally freestyle selection of kicks and stomps. Eventually we got it! and had worked up a mighty hunger doing so. Ding ding dinner! and just in time. Held in the grand hall with sunshine streaming in, we dined on the tastiest treats in the south west. and with a wine waiter to each table the already buzzing atmosphere was electric. Several speeches from family and friends later we were kicked out and the dance floor was cleared.

With a first dance like no other, the bride and groom did the black-bottom-Charleston onto the floor to the sound of a 20's band playing centre stage. With a newly gained expertise, young and old alike joined in, and we frolicked until midnight!


Just after midnight, under the guise of escorting one of the other guests back to the mainland, 20 of us skipped down onto the sea tractor and out into the middle of a pitch black sea. It was a slightly hair raising but totally exhilarating trip! what ensued was a marvellous evening filled with singing dancing rowing and swimming. Thank god for the amazing breakfast the next day!

As guests slowly left the Island, i eventually got to spend some q.t with Georgina, arguably the most fresh faced looking bride i have ever seen, and our gaggle of close family and friends.Super.

I was right. It was a weekend and wedding like nothing i have ever experienced. So much so that i neglected my camera until the end of the trip...

...you may have noticed a distinct lack of bodies? ha ha! I'm 100% certain my camera would now be with Davy Jones had i kept it with me during the festivities!

Thank you to The Carelli's The Worthington's and our spirit of adventure inspired by dear old Aggie.

x