Try sprinting the Comrades Marathon – backwards. That sort of gives you an idea of how Howard and Daelle’s wedding went. It was ‘on your marks, get set, marathon sprint from start to finish!’ The guys had flown in from Australia a few days before (Daelle having planned her entire wedding from those distant shores – a brave move indeed). Hats off to the girl because she got it very nicely right from thousands of miles away thank you very much. Beautiful dress, a host of very cute kids, Alicia Buckle for hair and make-up, FJS Productions for the video, Suikerbossie hospitality, Gabriel Shai doing the tunes – natty planning indeed. Oh, and a rock-solid groom in Howard to boot! We kicked off with the formal photos before the ceremony which was a bit like a John Woo action movie with thrills, spills, tears, laughter – the whole shebang thrown into a very short and intense period of time. At one stage I may have even experienced a slight eye-twitch as we raced against every milli-second to get our shots. But we made it, together with triumphant hugs and high fives before racing off to Suikerbossie. Then it was ceremony, more photos and yup, and a double Hora (alternatively known as a Super Circuit in fast forward). Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Undoubtably. Never a dull moment this wedding photography business. Then it was a day’s rest before Daelle, Howard and myself went walkabout on what can only be described as a route march as we went about their ‘Day After’ shoot. I’m still stiff.

I’ve noticed that there have been quite a lot of people on my Facebook fan page who have recently bought decent DSLR cameras and who are looking for spots to test their skills. But where in the Cape are the best places to shoot? Well there are a lot of places actually, but perhaps one of the very finest is the area around Paternoster. And this is where Shirley, Juan and myself met up a few weeks ago in 6 degree chilliness to get their e-session underway. We kicked off in Tietiesbaai which is such a cool spot with new and interesting photo opportunities around every nook and cranny and gully. It’s a photographers dream – the light is good, the sea always surprises one and each day it just seems to dress itself a little differently from the last. So off we went with Shirl’s and Juan climbing up rocks (and nearly falling off them), running through water, having the odd kissie-kissie here and there and generally providing plenty of entertainment for the resident rock mice. Then back into the cars we jumped and headed through to Paternoster for a few shots on the beach and at the fishing boats. To coin a phrase, it was just ‘lekker.’ Afterwards, Shirl’s and Juan headed off to St Helena Bay where the snoek fisherman were offloading their catches. If you’ve never been to watch this spectacle – go! It’s awesome. So the bottom line is this really – wake up really early on Saturday morning, grab your camera, jump in your car and head 2 hours out of Cape Town. You’ll come back that evening with plenty of awesome photos, you’ll feel exhilarated, tired, happy, and you’ll have snoek to braai. What a bonus. Stay tuned, I’ll be shooting Shirley and Juan’s wedding early in November. Roll on summer, roll on…

I started shooting weddings a little while back. 1994 to be precise. Back then I was into video and a very dear friend of mine who has since left this world encouraged me to keep at it. About 4 or 5 years later I decided that stills photography was really what I wanted to do. So I put down the video camera, bought a Nikon and off I went. Progress was slow at first, which frustrated me a lot, and although I was getting bookings I didn’t feel I was quite cracking it the way I wanted to. But I kept going. Then one day I did this engagement shoot with Brett and Ali. Brett dropped Ali into the water at Blouberg by mistake. I got the shot, put it onto my site and my career changed forever. That photo struck a cord with people and I made the decision to start taking photos that were more edgy and that captured weddings in a more true-to-life style. The reason I’m telling you this is because it took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get where I am today. I know what it’s like to fight for survival in this highly competitive industry. Then, a few weeks ago I got a call from Anne Mann. Anne heads up Anne Mann Celebrates and is a well-respected wedding planner in the industry. She told me that her daughter was getting married in 2 days time and unfortunately the photographer they had booked wasn’t able to make their wedding. Which brings me to my point. Not ever, not once, have I not pitched at a wedding. Not through, flu, broken ribs, my children in hospital. Never, ever, ever. Sure, perhaps there are times when the unforeseeable happens and a crisis will prevent me from pitching. But it would have to be one hell of a crisis. There are many, many folk out there who want to become wedding photographers, so here’s the thing – if you want to crack it, be respected, be taken seriously and ultimately fly, make darned sure that if you commit to a booking, you stick with it. Because if you don’t, you won’t last long. Luka and Clayton, you guys were pretty darned incredible and you sure stepped up to the plate having only met me for the first time 2 hours before your ceremony. Hats off to the two of you, it sure was a darned fine day! I’m chuffed I ended up shooting your wedding because you’re darned good guys.

Slipperfields is a long, long way from Cape Town, but the scenery en-route makes up for distance. When Hel and myself arrived, we booked into the lodge and then headed off to find Slipperfields and explore the area. It was amazing to say the least. Real farmlands these – full of cows, lush green grass, old buildings and gravel roads. The only small technicality was that the rain was coming down without any indication of ever stopping. But it was still 24 hours before Charles and Riana’s wedding so I wasn’t too worried. 20 hours later and guess what – it was still raining. No prob, I handed Charles and his betmen some umbrellas and off we walked down to the railway line where Charles got into his kit. Lots of chirping from the bestmen, lots of chirping back from Charles, no stress, no strain. Off to Riana gorgeous Riana we went. All good, happy room filled with lovely girls. Nice snacks. All good. Then I had this really bright idea which was to take Riana’s dress into the field outside her room where the cows were grazing. So off Helen and Lynell (Riana’s one bridesmaid) and myself went. It was still raining, but only a drizzle now. I said to the girls that we would need to get the dress cover off, then hang the dress onto the hat stand we’d brought from the room as quickly as possible. They would then need to run out of my shot, I’d take the photo and then they could run back in, put the cover on and take the dress back inside. ‘Okay go!’ And the girls sprung into action. The whole mission went perfectly. Until the hat stand decided that it would prefer to just topple over and head southwards. Straight towards the very slushy, wet, muddy, green grass of home. I don’t swear much at all, and certainly not at weddings. But as Riana’s dress plummeted earthbound, well, I let it slip with a pretty descriptive word that can be used to describe a variety of situations. It was like one of those dreams where you want to run, but you can’t as all 3 of us headed for that beautiful dress. But we didn’t make it there in time and ‘shhhhhlunk’ into the quagmire went the dress. Helen picked it up. I didn’t want to look. The top of the hat stand was covered in hectic brown mud. HECTIC. Up came the dress. I knew that there was absolutely no way on earth that Riana’s dress would have been able to escape that fall unscathed. But somehow it did. Not one mark on it. Nothing. I now believe in miracles. We went back inside and I told the girls not to say a word to Riana. I then asked Helen to check the dress again, but she couldn’t. She was paralyzed with shock and literally couldn’t move. So I walked over and gave it a very casual yet seriously intense look. Perfect. Not even the tiniest of blemishes. And with that Riana climbed into her dress, walked down the aisle and we enjoyed a wedding of note, walking through mud, laughing and celebrating a wonderful day and evening. The venue was awesome, the speeches good, the dancing was um, ja, interesting. Had I been a cat that day, I would have used up all 9 lives in one go. Mistakes do happen, just not to me, and not like that. It could have been a very, very bad day at the office indeed. So suffice it to say that I won’t be doing that again. Not ever. Oh, and Riana doesn’t know about the dress episode at all. Until now of course. Love you guys! Okay, what’s next, should we do a Trash the Dress then chaps? I’m still shaking.

Driving around beautiful Knysna is always a bit of a treat. The town is pretty much in a league of its own. You get the feeling that the people of this world famous coastal village on the Garden Route are extremely proud of their product and it shows. Clean streets, friendly people, manicured from pillar to post. Scouting around to find a place to shoot Anzelle’s Trash the Dress took Helen and myself deep into the Knysna Forest, past some elusive elephants, monkeys, then onto The Heads, Leisure Island, Buffels Bay, Sedgefield and Noetzie in very random order. But we finally agreed that Brenton-on-Sea was the spot. Those Garden Routers are extremely fortunate to have a place like Brenton on their doorstep. Anyway in the early morning I first shot Rob, Anzelle and the family and then it was time for Anzelle to climb into her dress. Now let me tell you something, the last time she strutted her stuff in her dress was 10 years ago! True I tell you! 10 years and a baby later and here she was, primed and ready to go. To fit into your wedding dress some 3 650 days after your wedding day is one heck of an achievement in itself. Be that as it may, it was time for me to get into ‘no mercy’ mode. The sea was rough. It was angry. There was a mean tide pushing in. It looked pretty darned hazardous. Perfect for some midday entertainment. We started on the cliffs high above the beach and slowly made our way downwards. Once we reached sea level I started wondering as to whether or not I should actually send the poor girl into the water. It really, really was a bit dangerous. But being the girl that Anzelle is, in she went. I remember warning her that no matter what, if the water rushed up and smashed into her, she had to try and remain calm and look sexy. Wishful thinking. As the first wave struck her with proper brute force she screamed for her life. ‘Get the hell out of there,’ I shouted. Fat chance that was going to happen. ‘Boom!’ Another wave. And another. And another. And so the time passed with Anzelle and Rob getting pounded left, right and centre. The sealife wasn’t being overly helpful either, cutting into their feet and generally making life quite difficult. But they survived and now they have the photos to prove it. Good, brave work chaps. I’m really proud of you guys. I was tough saying goodbye to them, but into the car we jumped and headed for destination PE for Charles and Riana’s wedding…

Travel through Wellington and over the slightly scary Bainskloof Pass and you finally reach a place known simply as Tweede Tol. It’s not that far out of Cape Town but once you get there, you do feel somewhat deep in the mountains. It was here that I shot Nicci and Brendan’s wedding back in 2008. This time though, I had Helen and the kids in tow for a spot of camping as well. We arrived just before dark, put up the tents and then I went off with the kids to refresh my memory of the area. As we climbed across the river bed I realised that I must have completely lost the plot at Nicci and Brendan’s wedding. I suddenly remembered carting all 120 people or so down and into the river for the big group shot. It’s not the easiest of walks in high heels and how some of those guests made it I will never know. Exuberance is a wonderful thing. We took it easy on Friday night, had a braai, everyone froze and it was off to bed early. On Saturday morning we were all up bright and early, did another scout around with Nicci and Brendan and then off we went. To say that the water in those mountains is cold is an understatement and I must say, I quite enjoyed watching Nix and Bren shivering their butts off. But hey, it was their idea to do the waterfall/river thing, not mine so there you go. As the sun said its evening goodbye, Bren made a cracker of an ostrich potjie and your favourite SA Idol and mine, Mr Mark Haze and his good wife arrived for a spot of good old-fashioned conversation around the fire. Nicci and Brendan, I think we need to make this an annual event – even if next time you decide not to jump off a flipping waterfall. But then knowing you guys you’ll probably ride off the edge on mountain bikes next time. I give up.

Hmmmm okay. I arrive to shoot Jody and Karl’s wedding at Groenvlei and everything is hunky-dory. The bridesmaids are marvy, the bestmen are cool, Karl is relaxed and joking, Jody is calm and collected. Lovely stuff. I pop a meatball into my mouth and start shooting. It’s all good. It looks like it might rain, but I reckon there’s only a 50/50 chance so I’m not overly phased. The first hour passes by without a hitch. Then my world comes tumbling down because in marches 1 x half-pint human being called Olivia – Jody and Karl’s little girl. Now Livvy is like all kids – very cute and hugely unpredictable. Which is bloody scary when you’re trying to shoot a wedding. She hasn’t been in the room for more than I don’t know, 30 seconds, when she cracks me this big smile before popping a hotdog into her mouth. We hit it off straight away. I looooove Livvy. She walks around the room telling us how old she is and muttering the sort of things that nobody really understands (except for mom of course). I just keep on saying: ‘REEEEAAALLY,’ to her as she passes on by, shaking her head in agreement. We’re good mates by now. So off I go to the ceremony area, shoot guests arriving, say hello to the Minister and just sort of enjoy the moment. Then its wedding time. Jody arrives, Karl is chuffed and the two of them stand up at the front and laugh and smile a heck of a lot. Next thing it’s ring time and who should decide that it’s time to make a guest appearance? Why Livvy of course. So Jody and Karl pick her up and I’m bobbing and weaving like a flipping boxer in trouble as I try to get the all-important shots. But Livvy really doesn’t care. And so onto the First Kiss. I’m hitting the shutter button like a man possessed as dear Livvy pokes her head right into my shot. I’m going through severe angst at this stage and Livvy, well, she’s just enjoying the moment with mom and dad. And so, for the first time ever in my career I didn’t quite get that First Kiss as I’d have wanted to. Well I did, but if the truth be told, it is a little blurred. But then that’s married life for you I suppose – sometimes it’s crystal clear, sometimes it’s a bit blurred and oh yes, sometimes kids do get in the way. But that’s what makes it such a fun and sometimes scary ride! And I reckon when we all look back on it one day we wouldn’t change it for the world. Here are some of Jody and Karl’s photos. And Livvy, thanks buddy!

I’ve seen some pretty exceptional places in my time shooting weddings. But I tell you what, you’re going to have to pull out every trick in the book to match a small, sleepy little coastal town called Oubos. Hollywood would battle to conjure up this sort of place. Before I left for Kyle and Elani’s wedding I googled the spot. I found an article which wrote it up big time. Then I took a look at the available photos on the web and quite honestly, I had my doubts. I really thought I was going to have an uphill battle trying to find places to take photos. How wrong I was. Oubos is paradise – with capital letters all the way through. To get there is one heck of a drive from Cape Town, simply because it’s pretty much perched on the end of the earth. I reckon if the good Lord above chose to go on holiday somewhere, this would be it. To get there you need to pass through Knysna (hats off to whoever controls the area – you’re doing an exceptional job of keeping it in a tip-top, terrific state), and then just keep going through arguably the most breath-taking scenery South Africa has to offer. I took 2 days to get to Oubos, but had I taken 2 weeks it would have been too short. Every time I came to a new turn-off I got sidetracked. Forests, rivers, gorges, beaches, lagoons, farm stalls, shops, people, and on and on, and on. Wonderful, exhilarating, soul-uplifting stuff. By the time I eventually hit the dirt road that leads down to Oubos I was well and truly in the zone. And then, when I finally arrived, I couldn’t find the house Kyle and Elani were staying in. So for half an hour I drove up and down the road having to deal with person after person waving at me. Friendly place Oubos. Eeeeeventually I found the house, walked in, introduced myself, met the bridesmaids and best men, and then went down to the beach with Kyle and Elani to scout the area. And through all of this, the rain just kept falling. 24 hours it was still raining. Through Elani getting ready, through the service, and into family photo time. And through family photo time. And when it rains in the Garden Route, it doesn’t rain, it pours. And to compliment the downpour, the sea decided it would be a good idea to present a Spring Tide. So all said and done, it was fairly wet out there. Which, if you’ve ever had the shock and horror of taking on the task of shooting a wedding, basically means catastrophe. But then, as I continually say, my wedding couples ALWAYS come to the party. And this was no different. The troops mustered together, gave it their all and the Battle of Oubos turned into a resounding victory. I’ll never forget Elani turning around at one stage and saying: ‘I think we’re doing a Trash the Dress today as well – bring it on!’ The next morning I left at 5.30am and drove back to Barrydale for Easter lunch with Hellie, the kids and my mom-in-law. I was happy to be home, but very sad to have left perhaps the finest place I’ve ever been to. You can see some of the scenic photos I took with my phone on this trip on Instagram under warrieww.

I’m asked many, many, many times how I get some of the shots that I do. Well, let’s see now. Firstly, there’s always an element of luck – and I mean always. You see, I don’t pose my boys and girls much. I wing it – shooting from the hip, letting things unfold as naturally as I can. Sure, I do have a plan inside my head, but more often than not I don’t stick with the plan. Anyway, it’s far cooler being a pirate, even if you are marching your own well-laid plans down the gangplank and over the edge. Secondly, I let my guys have a big say in what happens when I shoot them. If Bob wants to bungi over the side of a bridge, then I’m so there – I’m just not jumping with him. If Sue wants to cover herself in grease and slide down the passage singing ‘Liefling’ then who am I to argue? But what I will do is find a way to capture it. And thirdly, and most importantly, I do something a little odd. I completely and utterly forget about that instrument in my hand called a camera. Instead, I shoot with a handy little tool called my mouth. And when you do that my friends, you’ll see the difference. Because when you use your mouth, things happen and people around you respond. Add it all together and you end up with one heck of an experience that everyone remembers for a long time to come. And your photographs should, theoretically, ooze personality. That’s the idea anyway. Right, now on to Grant and Monique. So they entered my Valentine’s Day competition and turned up as the winners which means they received a shoot from me and lunch at The Strandloper. Quite handy really. Monique told me she wanted to put on her bikini and prance along the beach in it. I quite liked the idea but thought it might be a slightly better idea if she tore down the beach and through the water in a bit of cozzie and a bit of clothing. So we met up at St James at 8.00am on a Monday morning expecting the place to be deserted. Which it wasn’t – it was packed with people. So off  to ‘Muizzie’s’ we went. This was the way I love to shoot – off-the-cuff, free and easy, just-do-it kind of stuff. Grant was the pillar – looking pretty darned cool while Monique was the bundle of energy that pulled it all together. So I hope you can see their personalities coming through in these photos, because at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about. Thanks chaps, bloody marvy. Let’s do it again – soon!

Hands up if you like good, old-fashioned, traditional South African food. Bit of a no-brainer really. It’s what makes us, us. Soetpatat, pampoenkoekies, braai, lots of geseligheid – you get my drift. That’s exactly what Niel and Cara had in mind when they planned their wedding to take place in the small Klein Karoo town of Heidelberg. And it worked like a charm. When they first told me of their intention to have their reception at a farm stall, I felt my left eye starting to twitch sporadically. Who on earth has their reception at a farm stall? I thought they’d lost the plot somewhere along the line. But as they spoke, the idea started to appeal to me quite a lot. The idea of potjie pots and a spit roast and roosterkoek and a fine melktert or two does hold an immense amount of ‘lekkerheid’ in it after all. And so the day came and their plan fell very nicely into place. The Doornboom Opstal (who aren’t a restaurant and don’t actually prepare any meals for visitors) served up some of the finest boerekos that I have ever tasted in my life. It was a culinary experience of note (and if anyone had been watching, they would have noticed me sneak 2 extra koeksusters into my mouth as I passed the desert table). Delicious I tell you. As an aside, I can also tell you that I firmly believe that the finest biltong shop in SA is to be found in this quiet old dorp. It’s squeezed in just behind the Engen off the N2. So the next time you’re passing by, get your hard-earned cash ready – it’s well-worth a stop. Anyway, before we digress too much, after the ceremony, we went off to this farm about 5k’s or so on the outskirts of the village where Niel and Cara mingled with some perde. Then I chased the poor girl over some hay bales and farm fences for good measure before ending off with a bit of romantic ‘gefoefeling.’ I had to shoot really, really quickly because the looming rain was looking seriously ominous. It was a case of ‘kiss-kiss, hug-hug, look lovingly this way and that, swing Cara around Niel, careful of the thorns, look pretty for Warrie, don’t twist your ankle, look sexy for Warrie, let’s go, here’s the rain.’ Game over. So for once, I’m now going to break with tradition by showing you more from the couples part of the shoot than I normally do. More like a couples ‘speed shoot’ if you ask me. I hope you enjoy the result.

There probably aren’t a whole bunch of us that have a cow called ‘Ore,’ or a Springbok called ‘Lief-Lief’ roaming around in our gardens. But if you travel towards Velddrif, take a right, then a left, then go straight, head  over a hill, first left, then right and carry on a bit, you’ll end up somewhere in between wherever. And that’s where you’ll find Kleinebegin. It’s here you’ll find all those English terms you studied (or didn’t) at school – like a gaggle of geese, a herd of cows, a flock of sheep and a constellation of stars – all nestled on the banks of the Berg River. This is the land where the term ”n boer maak ‘n plan’ also comes from. And it’s the place Farmer Tracy and her family call home. It’s also where Farmer Tracy and her husband SP allowed us to camp a few weeks back. Our two eldest kids, Gilli and Annie had ballet rehearsals and play rehearsals and, and, and… So we packed the car with our camping equipment, shoved Robbie and a friend into the car, and off we went with my sister Nicky and hubby Nico for a spot of fresh air and braaivleis. Once we arrived, Robbie and his mate fished their lungs out while the ‘big people’ sat around the fire and caught up on life a lot. There was a plenty of Afrikaans also going on which I always like because it gives me a chance to polish my skills flat-out. Then SP arrived and asked if I wouldn’t mind taking a few shots around the farm. That’s a bit like a red flag to a bull. The only problem shooting in a place like this is that you don’t have enough time. It’s a rough, rugged, hot, unforgiving land which is so appealing that you could probably spend a month here without getting all of the shots you wanted. So I walked around (with a beer in hand if I remember correctly) and took a few shots. I asked SP and Tracy if they would mind me bringing a bride over at some stage to do a Trash the Dress on their farm. The answer of course was: ‘geen problem, jy’s welkom eenige tyd.’ So now you know. Any takers? Dankie SP en Tracy, julle’s awesome hoor. Here are a few of the photos…

I met Bruce and Sarah for the very first time exactly two days before their wedding. They’d landed at CT International after a very delayed flight from London (Argus Cycle Tour bicycles being loaded and all) and driven straight through to Buitenverwachting for a quick chat. Sarah sat opposite me and looked concerned. ‘Warren,’ she said. ‘I’m not very good in front of a camera – and I don’t come out all that well in photos either.’ ‘Oh really,’ I thought to myself. Heard that line a few times before. I knew she’d be okay in front of the camera though. My brides always are. So I just told her to trust me and go with it. Nothing more than that. And the rest is definitely history. Sarah came out of the starting blocks in her wedding dress like a legend. She was so relaxed, so dignified and so in control it quite literally took my breath away. Everything I asked of her she went for – no prob. But there’s a second part to this story. I always say to my brides and grooms that I concentrate my efforts more on the bride and kind of stick the groom into the shots as an afterthought (I like the boys to believe that anyway). So all the groom needs to do is look cool, talk to his groomsmen and forget about the camera. It works well for me and it keeps things nice and informal. Well, Bruce seemed to quite like that idea and he did his thing like a pro. By the time the ‘formals’ were over I was chuffed – I really felt that things had gone perfectly. So Bruce and Sarah, thanks chaps. You’re a super couple and it was an absolute delight shooting your wedding. Now, here’s Mr and Miss (sorry, Mrs) ‘I’m not to good in front of the camera’ for you!

I’m going to say two words here, and when I do, one of the groomsmen at Adam and Vania’s wedding (Simon is his name), is going to turn cold with sweat. You see, the thing is, Simon is a big strong fellow. He rides motorbikes and stuff. And let’s be honest here, you don’t want to meet good old Si in a dark alley – especially if he’s feeling grumpy. Because my friends, Simon will rip off your arm in one quick, clean swipe and use it to hit your head over the 7th lamp post to the right of you. So now that I’m miles from Simon I’m feeling quite um, strong. So Si, here are the two words: BOY. BAND. Let me paint you all a picture. Right now, Simon is saying: ‘No! He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t do it. He. Would. Not. Do It.Would he? Would he do it? He wouldn’t, would he? Please tell me he wouldn’t.’ Well now Si (you don’t mind if I call you Si do you?) let’s tell the folk what happened inside that old broken down graffiti-struck house on the beach shall we. The thing is, there I was busy shooting the groomsmen. It was quite tricky and we were all chatting about who to place where when all of a sudden, Si lies down in front of the chaps and says: how’s this for a boy band shot?’ He immediately realized his mistake and tried to jump up, but oh dear - CLICK. And now we have Simon forever immortalized in a dodgy sort of Backstreet Boys meets One Direction pose. Now of course, the question is, do I show it to you, or don’t I? It’s VERY VERY sexy you know. Simon, don’t worry mate, I’m not going to show it – I’d need to hire a bodyguard for the rest of my life if I did. But it was flipping funny at the time. Boy bands aside, what an awesome day this was with a really good bunch of family and friends in the quiet village of Grotto Bay. I’ve been to most places on the West Coast but this was my first visit to Grotto Bay –  what a gem. And fittingly enough, the photos where Vania is pulling a ‘Marry Poppins’ on the rocks is where Adam proposed to her – and now forever known as Engagement Rock. Awesome. And by the way, Simon is cool – wouldn’t hurt a fly. I promise (difficult to type with your fingers crossed).

Relaxed, laid-back and informal. That probably best describes Johan and Juanita’s wedding at Leipzig Country House in Worcester. And why? Because that’s the way Johan and Juanita are. When I arrived in the car park, I climbed out of the car, got smacked in the face by 35-degree heat, turned around, and there was Johan, cool as a cucumber. We had a slow walk around the estate and then off I went to Juanita’s room where the air-con was very, very welcoming. The bridesmaids and myself then went off to find a spot to hang Juanita’s dress so that I could shoot it. Cool, calm, collected. Back to Juanita. No fuss, no rush, just peace. I don’t know about the girls but I started feeling like I was at a spa treatment! In fact, a mid-afternoon snooze crossed my mind more than once. And so it went. From service to reception there was no stress, no strain, no panic. Even when it came to the post-ceremony photos, everyone just tagged along without a care in the world as I blabbered away (and believe me, it was sizzling hot out there in the sun). At 10.30pm when I climbed back into the car to drive all the way back to Cape Town I felt like I’d been on holiday. Well, sort of. Chaps, carry that attitude with you through life and you’ll live to 120 years of age and have 60 grandchildren. Love your style! And one last thing – I’ve discovered the finest brandy tart on the planet. It’s at Leipzig – go there, taste it, die and go to heaven – it’s awesome!

So today’s million Dollar question is… hands up if you know what the Hora is? Okay, so before everyone rushes off to Google it, I’ll tell you. At a Jewish wedding, when the bride and groom enter the reception, the Hora takes place. This is designed to do two things. Firstly it’s one heck of a celebration. Everyone jumps onto the dance floor and goes completely bananas in celebration of the newly weds. It’s a mixture between hi-impact aerobics, kite-surfing, sky-diving, a rugby scrum, the running of the bulls in Pamplona, disco dancing and driving down a narrow gravel road on the top of a high mountain pass at 200km/h. So in short, it’s somewhat energetic and exhilirating. The second thing it’s designed to do is to seriously maim and/or injure any photographer that doesn’t have their wits about them. So you either need to wear skateboard padding and a helmet, or keep both eyes widely open while you’re shooting. And you most definitely need eyes in the back of your head or you’re a goner. At Natasha and Albert’s wedding chaos ensued with 200 people hitting that dance floor in celebration. It was completely scary and completely awesome all in one big beautiful breath. I got smacked hard twice and my camera took such a knock I thought the lens had shattered. Nice one Nikon, you make cameras that can take a punch I tell you. I saw Albert fly past me on at least 3 different occasions and I thought Natasha would be thrown clear through the roof, but somehow everyone remained in tact (sort of anyway). At one stage I felt like whooping like a cowboy it was all such fun. By the end of the Hora, everyone deserved a good break and the magnificent duo of Dave and Mickey (who own Suikerbossie), rolled out the goods – tables of finely prepared foods (as only they know how to do). What a day, what a reception! I kid you not – it took me two days to get over the stiffness in my legs! Mazel tov you beauties and may you enjoy many, many happy years together. Whoops, one last thing – Robyn Roberts, thank you once again for dressing Natasha so amazingly. Right, that’s it. The end.

I gulped down some water, looked over at Leanne and said: ‘Now listen here, seriously girl, this barbed wire is vicious hey. Touch it and your Rosenwerth dress is going to tear like rice paper.’ I wasn’t joking either. We’d reversed the Land Rover up to the fence, hoping that everyone would be able to climb across it and scramble down its ladder unscathed. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got it’ I heard Luke, one of the groomsmen say. I turned around, and bless his little purple socks, Luke had indeed got it. The chap is a Marine – which helps when one needs to circumnavigate barbed wire. ‘Go people, go, go, go!’ And we all sort of ambled through and onto the battlefield (at this point, let me add that the barbed wire was left in mint condition). ‘Watch out for snakes guys,’ I yelled as the troops stormed across the wide open plains. I turned to my Wingman, the groom, also known Michael ‘The Dupster’ du Plessis. ‘How ya doin’ buddy?’ I said. ‘I’m strong like an ox’ he replied, jumping up onto the old ruin. And so the shooting began. It was fearsome stuff, only for the bravest of the brave, with Leanne and the girls heading up the first assault – climbing through windows, jumping across rubble and attacking with all the sexiness they could muster. Then ‘BOOM’ and it was the turn of the men as they slung jackets over their shoulders and gave it the blue steel stares. Hollywood comes to Hermanus. Mission accomplished we headed back to the reception, where I have to admit, I have never seen so many long legs in one place at one time, ever. I didn’t know where to point the camera. So to prevent myself from going completely insane, I shot the cake. Into the night we went, with great food from La Vierge, and plenty of wine. And as we all know, once the wine makes its way to our toes, we become brilliant dancers. So there was (apparently) brilliant dancing as well if you know what I mean. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – this is the greatest job in the world! And with that, I think it’s time to phone my Wingman ‘The Dupster’ and his gorgeous wife Leanne for a beer and a debriefing.

‘CAN YOU HEAR ME?’ I was about 3 metres away from Cobus and Lizette and their families. I was met by completely blank stares. ‘MOVE CLOSER TOGETHER!’ Still blank stares. In the distance I thought I saw a house fly across the horizon. MOVE! CLOSER! TOGETHER! Blank stares. We were up at Seeberg in the West Coast National Park and to put it mildly, the wind was blowing a bit. Just a touch under hurricane level in all likelihood. ‘Whoops, there goes Oupa, screaming back to Cape Town at 120k’s an hour.’ Just another day in the life of a photographer and his wedding mob in the Fairest Cape. But at this juncture (with Ouma also hurtling off the rock and plummeting 40 metres downwind) let me say that nothing was going to stop us from getting our photos. And so everyone forged ahead regardless and in the end, we beat the wind hands down. BUT, this was all before the ceremony! Which brings me to my  point. Nature can wreak absolute havoc with hair and make-up. So was I very thankful that the ever-faithful and professional Alicia Buckle stuck around to fix up Lizette in the event of any hair and make-up train smashes. What a girl, what a soldier! The good news, is that Alicia is no slouch when it comes to her job and Lizette emerged from the battering completely intact. Mooi so Alicia! And so off we went to The Strandloper where, as usual, warm smiles and welcomes greeted us. Lizette and Cobus are straight-down-the-line, everyday normal nice guys. They wanted a feet-in-the-sand wedding surrounded by family, friends and good old-fashioned West Coast hospitality. And that’s exactly what they got. Breads, jams, fires, seafood, curries, koeksisters and a view of the sea. Lekker goed. Any wedding should always be about creating a day of memories that will last a lifetime. In Lizette and Cobus’ case, I have no doubt that it was mission accomplished. Cheers!

We really do live in an amazing country you know. And we really do have it all. Mountains, koppies, rivers, two oceans, a fat amount of wildlife. We’ve got the cheese route, the wine route, the whale route. We’ve got Joey’s, Durbs, PEEEE. And we invented the word: ‘lekker.’ What more could one ask for? We’re a tourism marketers dream. And in between all of that, sandwiched between Paarl, Franschhoek and Stellenbosch we have Babylonstoren. Nice spot. With a small, intimate garden that spans a mere 8 acres. They grow a few veggies and fruit in the garden as well. 300 different varieties to be precise. If you decide to get married at Babylonstoren like Stef and Faz did, then you can expect to walk about 3 kilometres through the garden as you have your photographs taken in 36 degree heat. It’s lovely. Pick a berry as you go. Spot bees. Go for a saunter around the prickly pear garden. By the time you’ve finished it could well be  past midnight and by then your guests would have buggered off, leaving you with a few half empty bottles of red. But thankfully that didn’t happen to us at Stef and Fazs’ wedding. We got back in time for a delightful sunset, donkeys peeping in at the reception venue windows (yes, you read that correctly), ducks sauntering around like they owned the place, a band doing its thing, and everyone in fine spirits. Out came the food – you guessed it – all homegrown at Babylonstoren. Except of course for the fillet – fillet trees have yet to be invented out in that neck of the woods as yet. And so the evening went along with plenty of wine, song and good cheer. If you haven’t been there yet, you MUST go. I’m really not a very good gardeny kind of person, but ja, interesting and different. And just plain lekker!

If James and Gushelah Shipton were ever to enter one of those TV cooking programs, the result would be a foregone conclusion. I’d put every last sent I had on them to win. In fact, I’d throw the wife, kids, dog, cat and goldfish into the deal as well. They’re THAT good. And better. I don’t hold this viewpoint lightly at all either. I’m very outspoken about the food that venues serve their guests. And if I’m asked by my couples about the quality of the food delivered by venue x, y, or z, I say it straight. Credit where credit is due, but the opposite is also true. Now, when it comes to outside caterers the same holds true. And if ever their was a caterer who will absolutely delight you, it’s Salt & Pepper Caterering. I’ve had the immense privilege of working with them a few times before and I’m always flabbergasted at how these guys put it all together. They’re artists – and they offer a superbly delicious canvass of tastes. Take a look at (just some of) the foods they offer on their website and then look at what you have planned for supper. Then cry. Then book them. Super, super, super. Get hold of James or Gushelah via their website over here: http://www.saltandpeppercatering.co.za