Pipes at the door, and a proposal on skis at sunset.
A one o'clock ceremony on a March Friday at the Brig o' Doon House Hotel in Alloway — piper outside, Burns country all around, and Nicole coming down the aisle to "Wild Mountain Thyme" on her dad's arm. Andy waited at the front doing his very best impression of a calm man. Ten years in the making, this one, and worth every step.
Their story
They half-knew each other at Strathclyde, where Andy DJ'd at the student union — DJ Scorpio, no less. Years later a friend's holiday photos surfaced on Facebook, Andy spotted Nicole, asked for her number, and postponed walking the West Highland Way to travel down from Aberdeen for a first date at the Hanoi Bike Shop and Ashton Lane. When he did walk the Way the following week, he kept persuading his dad to pitch camp "just a bit further on" every night — which had nothing to do with scenery and everything to do with finding phone signal to call Nicole. There followed Norman the campervan, a freezing first van trip to Glencoe that ended with an RAC rescue and no regrets, a move to Norway, and Nicole learning to ski. Which is where, one perfect blue-sky December evening, Andy asked her to face the sunset so he "could take a picture" — and when she turned round, he was down on one knee.
The ceremony
A ceremony full of the pair of them. The quaich came first — two favourite tipples, one from each family, poured in by a friend from each side to blend in the lover's cup. I shared their "secrets" — the three things each loves about the other, told to me in private and revealed to the room — which covered Andy's ever-growing fleet of skis and bikes, and Nicole's saintly patience for being talked into minus-twenty campervan adventures when an Aperol spritz was on offer. Two friends read — one on loving an imperfect person perfectly, one a traveller's blessing about maps, compasses and anchors — then the declarations, the rings, and out they went to Natalie Cole's "This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)". Legally married, a stone's throw from the Brig o' Doon itself.
Marrying at Brig o' Doon House yourself?
March gets overlooked and shouldn't be — the gardens by the River Doon are quiet, the light is soft, and the rooms are cosy in exactly the way a spring wedding wants. A piper at the door of this place is worth every penny; you're in Burns country, so lean in. The full venue guide is here: humanist weddings at Brig o' Doon House — part of my Ayrshire patch. If the quaich has caught your eye, here's how a quaich ceremony works — and for readings as good as theirs, my guide to wedding readings.