One fine, beautiful, amazing and emotional day.

Wow! - I hope I haven't left it too late to commit all my amazing memories to this diary, it's Monday morning now and I couldn't put off writing about our wedding day any longer!

It was amazing that people came from all over the world to be with us and party so hard - Respect! But it wouldn't have been possible without the people from next door and down the road, the local people didn't get the mention they all deserved. So here is a small mention for the people who worked their tushes off and made our day absolutely perfect:

It has to start with my dress, Elspeth you are an inspired and gifted seamstress and made me feel special in two parts. Firstly the love, effort and time (not to mention money for all that fabric!) that went into my skirt and secondly how wearing it made me feel like a princess. Thank you so so much.

From mother to daughter and my best friend and wife. Gaberoo, you who were in the emotional wedding spirit from the first glass of champagne when we were getting ready to that much needed cup of tea later on in the day, all your love and time you gave me, running me to fittings, flowers and countless other places and still finding time to make Djalma and I feel special (and fat!) with all your gorgeous cooking. Your cake was so gorgeous and so damn good - proven by the fact that all the hungry pigs at our wedding demolished it (was very upset that I didn't eat as much as I wanted too, although I did have some of both and they were heaven!). People also commented on the fact that it was unheard of to not have any left overs let alone it being hoovered up so quickly - testament to your foodie goddessness. I loved it all and I love you, even when you were teary eyed which prompting me to cry at crucial moments on that stage!

There are so many other people as well - all of whom can expect a little something in the post as well as a little mention here:
Dad!!! For funding everything, bringing his lovely girlfriend and a beautiful father/daughter dance.
Our neighbours Jo and Paul who were with us until the wee small hours of the morning of the wedding as well as the night before getting everything ready, along with Sarah and Sam their lovely kids (although not kids anymore!). They put in such serious work and were so generous with their time and energy that without them we would probably still be decorating the hall, let alone have time for a wedding! Thank you!
Teresa and Dave, Rebecca and Robert, Jude and Paul who all helped throughout the day and night whether it was organising food/drink/hairclips/the enormous mess at the end. And not to forget Mum's friends, Nina, Viv and Ruth who willingly came only to work, what amazing people.

I've saved the best till last, my Mum. What an incredibly amazing and generous woman. She has done so much, given up so much time, driven us, organised things, made suggestions but never interfered and didn't snap at me when I was overcome with bridal burdens. I could not wish for a more wonderful Mum not least because I don't think it is possible for a person to be any more wonderful, or generous, or loving or kind. I am blessed and so is Djalma - we love you Mum!

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Secondly, I'll be starting at the start which, of course, begins with bridal preparations!

Our visa refusals did indeed have a silver lining, although the cloud did seem to overwhelm it at first, not having a church wedding opened up so many different options to us. So we picked and chose the elements of traditional English and Brazilian weddings plus anything else we decided we liked for our own, this included spending the night, prior to the wedding, apart. Instead I spent the night with Rosie (a.k.a Red Fox) cuddling up to her, then remembering in my sleepy haze that she wasn't my boyfriend, and moving back to my side of the bed. Sorry Rosie your bum just wasn't hairy enough!

Despite the 3am finish decorating the hall the previous night, everyone was up early and back at wedding work by 8 o'clock. For me this meant taking my make-up-less face and turbaned head out to our back garden and hacking down some bamboo to line the aisle I would soon be walking up. Kate came out to keep me company and decided a photo would be in order (to remind me just how awful I looked before all the make-up got slapped on later).

From Our Wedding Day!

Garden work finished and manicure still intact, I waited with my enormous bag, for my ride to the hotel with Kate and Gabs to begin much needed work to make myself presentable. A minor hiccup and a little wait later me and my girls were in 'the room at the top' in what is the old Hog's Back Hotel. I jumped in the shower to relax and get clean only to be papped round the shower curtain by Susanna, in quite possibly the most unflattering pose ever (I will be making sure that that photo NEVER sees the light of day), needless to say she was cussed out of the bathroom while I turned the air blue around me, very dignified, very bridal. Not. By this point the glorious weather outside was making the air inside so warm as to be uncomfortable, but we soldiered on, applying the brightest of blues and the spring-est of greens eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, concealer, blusher and anything else we thought would make us look pretty. Then for the hair... the previous evening before we left for the hall I spent a good hour with my (now) mother-in-law, ragging my hair, pulling my hair out and swearing. If you're not sure what 'ragging' is - it involves taking sections of hair, wrapping the tip in a long rag and twisting it round till it reaches the head and tying it up so it curls - it takes along time and makes your arms very tired! The hair done, I was helped into my clothes - I'm not sure I could've done it by myself - tied into my shoes and then I minced down the stairs to where my carriage awaited.

Michael, my most amazing little brother (and now Djalma's) had cleaned out his car, decorated it with white ribbon, was waiting for us outside all dressed up looking very smart. He whisked up up the road to the hall where we unloaded ourselves, very late (and there was I thinking we'd be doing it on 'English time') and took up positions ready for the long short walk up the aisle, arrrrrgh! Nerves!

From what I can remember, in between trying not to cry, trip over or walk too fast, the room looked amazing and it was such a warm beautiful feeling to walk through a sea of faces from people who'd travelled from next door, different parts of the country, Europe, Russia, Australia and Brazil to see me and Djalma make our promises and commitments to each other. Cripes, I'm feeling tearful enough now just thinking about it and I definitely cried enough on the day! Well, we all made it up the bamboo and wine bottle lined aisle, I almost lost it on the steps up to the stage when I trod on my skirt - it was difficult to see through all the curls and the tears! But I got there and remembered to look at Djalma - a sight to remember in that kilt. Because we'd left everything to the last minute and left out a rehearsal run of the ceremony people weren't too sure who would start things off and although I'd written out a brief order of service I couldn't string two thoughts together for the life of me (I was still thinking, don't cry and don't trip up). Things whizzed by with readings from the bibles by our mothers and some lovely messages from our fathers, then it was time for our vows. I'd decided that Djalma could say his first and I would follow his example but when we was up there I thought that I should, after all, go first. There was a slight hiccup when I realised that I hadn't remembered the bracelet I'd made in lieu of a wedding ring, oops! Gabs ran off to get it and Berna saved the day by publicly requesting that we take the Borges-Martins DNA round the world (all in good time Mãezinha!). During this little request I was feeling pretty confident that I'd beaten the tears and that I would be able to read out my vows, slowly, clearly and without any trembling or quavering... fool! Halfway through my first line (read from a little piece of paper I'd folded up and kept close to my heart under my corset) my chin started to wobble, I choked up and that was it, I was fighting a losing battle from there on for my voice. I very much doubt that anyone heard me, even in the front row, but most importantly Djalma did. For those that didn't this is what I said:

'I take you, Djalma, to be my friend, my lover, the father of my children and my husband.
I will be yours to love and depend on what ever situation we face, we’ll face it together in times of plenty or want, in times of sickness and or health, in times of joy or sorrow, in times of failure or triumph.
Never ask me to leave you, or to return from following after you, because where you go I go, and where you stay I stay.
I promise to cherish and respect you, even if I don’t always agree with you, to care and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and be with you for the rest of my days.
Wear this bracelet and think of me knowing that I love you.' That bracelet was tied on with a VERY shaky hand!

Djalma's vows went a bit like this:
'Sarah, we've been through a lot to get here. Lots of difficulties but lots of fun as well. When I look back even trying to overcome problems has been fun by your side.
As any couple we have differences. In our case, lots of them, some of which are quite annoying for both of us. What I'm trying to say is I don't want to be annoyed by or annoy anyone else. I love our differences. They make us stronger I promise to be faithful and love and annoy only you although some people may disagree on the latter.
We're about to go on a long exciting adventure through lots of different places. They say home is where the heart is. In my case home is where you are.
In fact the ultimate adventure starts now, here, in front of our families and friends and will last for the rest of lives,
Sarah do you want to share my life and be my wife ("I do") - hopefully. This band symbolises our bond, a full circle in which we don't know where one life and the next begins'.

All sealed with a kiss, I'm surprised I didn't cry myself into a big red puffball there and then although I did a good job trying, we went outside and slowly organised ourselves into receiving lots of hugs and kisses, after 50 of which I got a bit worried that the right side of my hair was going flat. After that the Pimms came out and the party started and what an amazing party (the surrounding neighbours enjoyed the Brazilian funk, thank you DJ Ze Dami you are a LEGEND!). More about the party later, I think that as well as George Macphearson's and Djalma's willies deserve a special mention - I don't think Djalma's has had quite so much fresh air in a long while!

From Our Wedding Day!

Bare Naked Bubbly Hens

I'm writing this a few days before my wedding, having recovered sufficiently but (hopefully) not having lost the most important details of my hen day through the massive holes of my colander like memory.

My day started off innocently enough, although I was greatly peeved at the fact that my beloved had been informed of the days events while I was kept in the dark - up until the point of them actually happening. I was collected by the ever wonderful Miss Crosta who took my sister and I into Cranleigh where a 2 hour bliss sesh awaited me a la manicure and pedicure from the lovely Charlotte (with a magnificent back garden). Kate and Sus sped off to organise the bikes (unknown to me then) but not before we all had a couple of delicious peach bellinis. I settled down and relaxed while my extremities were rubbed, pumiced, massaged and polished. By the end of it I was minutes from sleep and thoroughly relaxed.
Two hours after Charlotte had started on me, Kate and Sus reappeared and I was promptly put on a decorated bike, given an AWFUL 'bride-to-be' headband and ordered to follow Sus (Kate would have come with us but her bike had a puncture). Thirty minutes in and my feet looked like they belonged to a wandering tramp who wouldn't know about washing let alone a pedicure. It was an excellent ride though the countryside, the heavens opened only once and we made it in such good time to Guildford that Sus and I decided to stop off and start/finish a bottle of champagne that her Mum had provided us for the occasion. So my bum tingling (from some very thorough bruising) we sat down and tucked into strawberries, champagne and crisps.

From My Hen Day/Night

About an hour later (we'll only be 15 minutes!) we arrived in Guildford and re-met Kate who by this time had met up with the wonderful Bola and the equally lush Camilla who were outside the Boatman keeping some cider entertained. I can't say I was overly thrilled at the prospect of changing my tipple from Champagne to fermented apple juice, so I didn't, instead I showed enormous self restraint and waited till we left the pub and headed over the river to a bench on the other side where we could polish off our own drinks, yippee!
Once seated, we demolished, in a very ladylike manner, the 3 remaining bottles of champagne and were serenaded by a 39 year old, dreadlocked gentleman, whose name I can't quite remember but who was known by both Bola and Susanna. It was a truly lovely afternoon despite my lovely little sister having to depart (I had given my horrid cold to her) and the cycle ride to Farncombe? where Uncle Marco and his wonderful girlfriend live. Actually the cycle ride there was incredibly fun, well it was really fun and incredible that neither Bola, Sus or myself fell into the river. We arrived early evening'ish and settled in very quickly to Marlin's birthday celebrations, naturally we helped her and her guests with the delicious food although we did refrain from poaching all her booze (I hope) instead we got some ginger beer and vodka and carried on our merry making with some Moscow mules. YUM.

Later on that evening saw the exceptional Naomi joining our ranks along with Camilla who had gone home to get changed and then come back to join the party. With very little cajoling we all jumped into Marco and Malin's outdoor hot-tub, shouting for waiter service and refills becoming more and more unruly as the time wore. Details of the hot-tub frolics will remain close to my chest, ahem, unlike certain items of clothing that evening. Anyway it was damn good fun and luckily for me I found all my clothes again after I got out and dried off. Lots of very drunken conversations ensued, Sus fell asleep, not sure what happened to the rest of the girls (and even if I did I would certainly be keeping my mouth sealed) and I decided that I absolutely HAD to got back to my hairy bummed beautiful Brazilian. Marco lent me fifty squids and called a taxi, I'm still not sure if I said my goodbyes to everyone because as soon as the taxi pulled up I was in it and soon filling in the poor driver on my life story and plans of marital traveling. Forty odd pounds later at 2 in the morning I was outside my house. Outside my house with no key, no phone, no jumper and utterly utterly drunk. I tried climbing over our neighbours fence round the back: bad idea, I tried shouting up at the light in my own bedroom window: useless, I eventually looked for a key and found one only to break it off trying to tist it too hard: oops, then I tried calling Katie through the letterbox: best idea of the night. By this time I was in tears at the thought of having to sleep on my own driveway, cold and alone, so when she opened the door and let me in I stood outside and cried a bit more, only this time with relief.

I stumbled upstairs and into my bed next to my bemused boyfriend where I started crying again while I retold the last harrowing twenty minutes of trying to get into the house in between telling him how much I loved him and his hairy bottom.

Sunday of course was completely written off in bed with lashings of self loathing, self pity and good memories of the previous day.

A Marriage of Convenience?!

Anything but thanks to the UK Visa Centre in Moscow.

What a pavlova. We have relaxed about this big mess a lot since arriving in the UK and successfully getting through border control. Djalma applied twice in Moscow and was refused twice. We spent a lot of time filling in the fields correctly and putting together (what we thought was) sufficient paperwork. What happened was that we didn't have nearly enough of the correct information, the person processing our application thought he was trying to marry my Mum and that he was Russian (possibly the number one reason we shouldn't have applied in Russia was because we weren't Russian, did anyone tell us this? Err... no).
OK, so misunderstanding number 2 was quite funny but the second time we applied with what felt like unbelievable amounts of paperwork 'proving' our relationship and financial circumstances. I wrote a letter declaring myself free to marry, deeply in love with this man and confirming our cohabitation, all of which felt quite ridiculous - how can you prove love and a relationship through paperwork? Nevertheless we tried, we put together several pages of our holiday photos artfully arranged into collages especially for the application, pages of Djalma's Brazilian bank statements, a letter from my Mum, letters from BKC and god knows what else. And still, no joy. We were so sure we had this one in the bag that when I got the call from Djalma after he'd collected the returned paperwork I couldn't really believe it when he said that it had been rejected. Because the Centre was so busy and the turn-around-time for applications were so long we had run out of time to submit (yet another) application.
'Oh bums' didn't even begin to cover it. We kissed goodbye to our church wedding that same afternoon - despite weeks of trying to find a loophole to make things happen. We didn't even have enough time for a quickie wedding in Moscow, the paperwork for that would've taken at least a month and we only had a couple of weeks before leaving, which meant that Father Keith (who still hasn't emailed me back about this mess) wouldn't be able to give us a blessing.

To a certain extent we couldn't plan beyond getting into the UK because we were so unsure whether Djalma would be able to get through the border control after the marriage visa rejections. At first we didn't think it would be a problem - there didn't seem to be any system for tracking rejections at the Visa Centre in Moscow. Right on the heels of that little grain of hope, Djalma looked inside his passport to find 2 little stamps and reference numbers from the VC the equivalent of 'THIS BIG HAIRY DUDE WAS DENIED CLEARANCE TO ENTER THE UK' a lovely conversation starter with the border control officials. That was when I started to poo my pants. As it turned out, the border official was a big jolly blonde who was very sympathetic to our situation and commiserated with us, offering suggestions and apologies that we hadn't got the visa explaining that lots of Brazilians and South Africans in particular have been renowned for coming to the UK to have a wedding of convenience or a sham marriage so they get the EU passport. Marriage of convenience indeed!! That made me laugh - how could anyone think that the visa process was convenient or the two subsequent rejections?! After a good ten minute chat she disappeared to clear the situation with her boss, the five minutes she was gone we held our breath and crossed our fingers, when she came back without a smile on her face my heart stopped but she stamped our passports, good solid thumps of ink saying we were good to go (I went through on my NZ passport), we sailed through the little gate and onto proper UK turf where we collapsed into a big hug and tears of relief, we hugged/walked our way to the arrivals hall which despite the lack of my Mum waiting to collect us, was the most welcoming sight I've ever seen.