I don’t usually write very private, personal things on this blog — as this is supposed to be a travel blog — but sometimes a blog can be a great place to vent, and to share ideas.

I’m in the midst of planning a wedding, and have finally realised just how wedding-phobic I actually am. I’ve been to some fantastic weddings, and some really, really bad weddings, but they all have a few things in common: high levels of stress, people running around like headless chickens, the bride about to have a heart attack, long ceremonies in the church that nobody even enjoys, until finally, the party starts, and people begin to have a good time.

So, I am trying to skip all the ’semi demi’, as my mother likes to call it, and just get straight to the celebrating part. Neither of us are religious, so we don’t need a religious ceremony, but we will need some kind of civil celebrant to make it official, so I’ve started my search.

Today I went to a place called Eden Marriage Registry, just a few minutes from my office, to check out a venue where you can do the civil ceremony. I walked in to the entrance and was met by a very friendly manager who was happy to show me the room. It was, in a word, horrendous. Dubbed the Sakura Room, it looks like a giant cotton candy monster vomited a garden all over the roof. Every square inch was covered with fake pink flowers, meant to look like Japanese cherry blossoms. It was the pinkest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

‘It’s very… pink,’ I said to the manager.

‘Yes, this is our most popular room,’ he said, grinning.

‘What kind of tacky, low-class people actually like this stuff?’ I wanted to ask, but I held my tongue.

‘Do you want to try walking down the aisle?’ he asked me.

‘Um….. what?’

He walked over to the CD player, pressed play, and suddenly a church organ version of the Wedding March came blaring out at top volume from surround sound. My eyes almost popped out of my skull. I don’t know how to describe the feeling of pure panic that came over me as I heard that song. Like Runaway Bride, I had the terrible urge to turn heels and head for the hills as fast as my flats would take me.

‘Oh god, turn it off! Please, no no no. This is not for me. Definitely, definitely not,’ I told the manager, and started heading for the exit.

He looked confused — what kind of bride doesn’t want to walk down the aisle as the Wedding March plays?

Me, dammit, I’m that kind of bride. And quite frankly, I don’t give a damn!

There is no way in hell that you could ever get me to put on a giant puffy dress and a veil, slather me with makeup and hairspray, have a bunch of bridesmaids getting drunk before the wedding, hundreds of people sweating as they wait in the church, walking down the aisle as everyone stands up…. god, please just shoot me!

This is why we have decided against any semblance of a ‘normal’ wedding, and instead will have two fabulous parties in each other’s side of the world. The first fabulous party will be here in Hong Kong on a fabulous Chinese junk boat with 35 of our friends and family, with all you can eat and all you can drink, cruising around the most scenic harbour in the world. The second fabulous party will be in Trinidad — hopefully at a holiday house on a small island — feting in a way that only Trinis know how in the Caribbean sea. These sound to me like a dream wedding. And anyone who tries to tell me differently can take the bouquet and shove it where the moon don’t shine!