Hi Nairalanders,
I have missed you guys. I was off running around for my wedding. which happened on 20th August.
I was so engrossed that I couldn't send an iv here... my bad. Apologies pls.
Pictures from both trad and Church wedding would come shortly.
Meanwhile let's cruise with My World (Hubby) in his blog as he brings to bare our honeymoon experiences.

www.pristinerambles..com

Honeymoon. Trip by a newly married couple to an awesome fantasia filled with beautiful things to buy and to eat, smiling faces and probably rice served in a banana leave that costs a fortune to put together? Wrong! That’s a fad. I hate fads. I am however a collector of experiences; I could even call myself a connoisseur of experiences of some sort, and on that basis, I can tell you on good authority that the places that often put smiles on people’s faces the most, that etches unforgettable memories deep in their subconscious seldom cost an arm and a leg. Anyway, that is beside the point.
August 20th was a very memorable day for me, and will always be one in years to come; on that day, I concretized my life changing decision to be joined in holy matrimony to the love of my life, my Princess Miracle. By the way, she calls me her World; I think that makes my head swell a lil bit. Prior to that day, we had decided that we were going to defy the conventional thing; the expected honeymoon to Wonderland. Two days after our wedding, we watched as the faces of our families and loved ones turned from disbelief, then outrage after we gave them the news; that we were not going to have our honeymoon at the usual places, but deep in the distant pockets of the society in sub-rural Niger state.
Nevertheless, they could do nothing about it; it was our life and our decision after all. So the next day, we checked out of our hotel room and our journey to Niger State began. The journey was uneventful to me personally, probably because I am sort of a veteran of travels having been to twenty-nine states out of the thirty-six states that make up Nigeria; but not so for my wife. She glowed with excitement at every turn of the journey. The only two outstanding things in this journey were that my wife didn’t vomit as was almost her usual travel routine, and that we both didn’t sleep much as we used to! Perhaps, our bodies had held a meeting to respect themselves considering the change we had undergone.
We got to Minna by 9pm; don’t ask me why we got there that late, but you can ask the bad roads. You can blame the incessant potholes on this road that nearly reduced our driver into a Mata Hari dancer performing an Ndebele tribal dance. We were met by Professor Adebayo, our host, who came to pick us up in his Landrover. Then the real journey began. It was on that road I figured out why he had to come in a Landrover.
Our destination was Kangongalo, in Wushishi Local Government. We plied the Minna Zungeru road, which was smooth up to a point, but interrupted with potholes the sizes of craters. Then at some point, we turned off from the expressway into a dirt road. You would be forgiven if you thought that with that, the worst was over. Far from it; it was to get worse. From bad road, to dirt road, to trails, and finally no road! We had to muscle our way through ditches, sand clogs, and swamps. My respect for the Landrover quadrupled that night; any other car would have been stuck.
We eventually got into Kangangalo in the wee hours of the morning; 1:23 am to be precise. We were met by the Miangwa and some other villagers with whom our Professor host had interacted with early on. We were then led to a palatial suit with all manner of dynamic security systems in place, from bodily to extra-bodily security; from dogs to mosquito net which had made a journey from Minna because of us, as well as the special door held in place by secret threads and woods. Awesome right? Well, we didn’t even wait to find out; we just succumbed to sleep and tiredness!
The very next morning, we were up by 9:12 am. Our first waking moment was greeted with sweet wafts of the aroma of freshly prepared tuwo. There were three different bowls, filled to the brim. We had no clue how our special door had been breached or when, but it was closed as securely as we had left it. The only culprits we could see were the three bowls of tuwo with soups which had sizable portions of all manner of obstacles. That was enough to take my wife’s mind off the issue of the breaching. By the time we were done with our morning ritual and got out, everywhere was almost desserted. It was till evening that we were to discover why.

Www.pristinerambles..com