"Will you photograph my wedding too?" the lady stage centre asked excitedly. "Certainly, when will it be?" It transpires she's single but I've block-booked 2012 in her favour.

When Gabby & Gareth first discussed their wedding plans with me I looked them up on Google. This isn't something I'm in the habit of doing with enquiries, I hasten to add - usually I limit any background research to an Interpol check - but considering their professions I was intrigued to learn a little about what they'd done in life. Gabby is a Creative Associate with the Young Vic Theatre and Gareth is an actor/scriptwriter (the latter of which I assume I've proven myself not). I immediately found a wealth of material on Gabby that demonstrated how prolific her work was and spoke a great deal of her personality. In Gareth's case however the first page of results was dominated by a highly successful antipodean drag artist of the same name (though performing as Lilith LaCroix). I must admit that at first I was intrigued and I dare say excited by the notion of a two dress wedding day but I did ultimately discover the Gareth I was looking for (and discovered from a feature on a play he appeared in, working alongside Orlando Bloom, that he's capable of growing a serious bit of moustache). On the eve of the wedding day Gareth turned over the spare room of his caravan for me to catch some sleep before a planned early start. I was intrigued once more, by the strewn contents of his baggage on the opposite side of the room to me.

When I was first told of plans that all the wedding guests would stay in a caravan park but a few minutes walk from where the evening party would take place an immediate and unshakable notion gripped me that I had to document sunrise to bookend this self-contained story. I set my alarm for 5.00am for a 5.30 sunrise and went to bed. At 1.00am I made an executive decision and re-set my alarm for 7.00 then thought better of it and re-set it again, for 8.00. At 5.01am I was awoken by the discordant chorus of a murder of crows, so called because had I been in a fit state to climb trees, I would have. I sensed that maybe the wake-up call was more than mere coincidence so set about my original plan. I was met by thick grey cloud. "This means sunrise won't actually be visible", I said to myself; possibly out loud. Might as well go straight back to bed then. Sunrise photography is not a standard feature of my wedding day coverage though I may be introducing it next year under my Titanium Package.

It seems that Gareth hadn't moved the entire night, still poring over his speech.

A first for me. Introducing the Groom's shoes.

Gabby's bridal preparations were the calmest I've ever come across. Utterly relaxed. Not a care in the world. Here's an example of just how calm she was. The electricity in the chalet had just gone and the mains powered hair tongs were rendered inoperable. She's on the 'phone to the site office explaining the minor hitch. Osmington Holiday Park certainly seems to be fantastically well run though and the staff are certainly some of the friendliest and most helpful I've come across. A small team of electricians and suchlike arrived within a handful of minutes and everything was up and running again.

I suppose if you've bought your bra there is nothing else to worry about. What an unusual juxtaposition of detail shots though. I must have words with myself. I must say I loved the floral arrangements for the wedding, wild flowers all put together by Gabby & Gareth's mums and Tom & Christine.

F.O.B. demonstrates how he plans to simply hold his buttonhole in place for the remainder of the day.

Deciding that stress levels weren't nearly enough to prompt extreme photographic opportunities I decided to hide Gabby's shoes. She said she wanted something light on the feet (I imagine this will be the last time I'm commissioned to photograph a wedding involving a scriptwriter).

"Shoes, back, now".

I enlisted the help of the hair stylist, part of a fantastic little crew of three including make-up, hair and robust interrogation artists from Tahnee's Hair Studio in Weymouth.

Gabby's Auntie Jackie and Uncle Dave shipped their car over from Jersey, decorated it with flowers and drove the bridal party about for the day.

A poignant sign of what Gareth truly is as a person, he'd elected to be delivered up the aisle by his and Gabby's mothers. I was deeply impressed by the gesture and it's something I'd be happy to see at every wedding I go to (without any sudden movements preceding the act however!)

Proud F.O.G. & M.O.G.

Done!

Choral orchestration by the supremely talented Howard.

I can't expressed how touched I am. Back home, my marketing manager probed me about my stick of rock. A little later, having no doubt been processing the means to an end, she declared, "When I'm bigger Daddy I want to learn how to use a computer and how to use a camera and go to weddings and take photographs so I can get a stick of rock!"

Natasha (accompanied by Harry on keyboards). I wish I could have photographed her voice, it was that beautiful. I suppose that's called video :~)

Gabby delivered a fantastic speech. This is only the second time I've witnessed a bride do so. The last one was a Gabby also, interestingly enough.

Danny the Best Man opens his speech with, "Now it's time to destroy Mr. Farr". He shoots...

... and the ball curves straight 'round goal-keeper Gabby and into the back of Gareth's net.

It's at this point in Gareth's speech, where he talks about what Gabby means to him, that I pray that my auto-focus is working as it should as all I can see in the viewfinder is blurred outlines. A grain of sea salt must have blown into my eye.

The speeches were all utterly exceptional. I wish I could publish them but I was too busy taking photographs to transcribe, often too busy cranking up my shutter speeds as I was laughing so much myself, and at times trying to deal with that grain of salt in my eye.

I'm always happy to take photographic requests on the day and Gareth's Mum expressed a desire to have a nice photograph of her two sons, all grown up, suited and booted. I thought to myself, they'll always be her little boys really.