MISS EMMA & BIG BOSS GOT HITCHED: PT 1

June 6th

The Morning After

We wake around 9.30 ready for some breakfast. We head back to DiMare restaurant and dwell on coffee, toast, bacon and eggs as well as the night before. It has been a spectacular success. The relief is palpable, but there’s also a tinge of sadness that the ‘party’ – for all intents and purposes – is over. Having said that, due to the relief we both feel, we’re looking forward to doing nothing for the next week and a bit.

The day itself is uneventful; Em catches up on some much needed sleep, and I laze about in the villa’s pool for an inordinate amount of time. I know what y’all imagine I’m leaving out, but believe me – and having done it twice, as well as anecdotal evidence from other married friends – the wedding night is anything but a rampant, wild shag-fest. Good luck to you if you’re married and the wedding night was debauchery city, but it would appear that after a day of nervous energy, meeting and greeting x number of guests, being the centre of attention and among the last to leave the party, sleep is likely your number one priority.

Dinner that night is back at DiMare restaurant. It’s a wonderful meal and if you’re a seafood lover, this place is well worth a visit. Our meal is punctuated with vivid flashes of lightning illuminating the Bukit Peninsula sky and the air has the sweet smell of impending rain. Not surprisingly, our waiter approaches the table and asks if we would like to move to another table “away from the rain”. It hasn’t started raining yet, so, like hapless rookies, we decline and stay where we are. Within less than five minutes of declining the move to another table, it does, of course, begin to rain.

At this point, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to take a moment to talk about ‘Local Knowledge’. Local knowledge is that thing that stops you from being in King St in Melbourne after 2am. Local knowledge is the thing that stops a Carlton supporter from buying reserved seats in the Ponsford Stand at the MCG for the Blues match against Collingwood. Local knowledge is knowing that the front carriages of the Sandringham line trains out of the city are your best bet for a seat. So when a local asks you if you want to move seats “away from the rain” it’s not so much a question as advice. Take it.

The rain is nice and gentle at first, providing a cooling effect through the restaurant. But, as is the case in the tropics the rain becomes a significant down pour in next to no time at all. Needless to say, we move to the table suggested earlier and spend the remainder of the night watching the rain flood the floor in parts of the restaurant that are on the edge of the awning that is supposed to shade guests when the sun is out. Strangely or not, I’ve always found rain to be relaxing.

We head back to the villa and enjoy a brilliant sleep.

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