Since I told you all about the bad bits of my weekend yesterday, today I thought I'd tell you about the good stuff.

I love car trips. Car trips are all about the stupid jokes and I think we laughed about dumb things the whole trip.

Friday night we sat out on the balcony of an old pub for dinner. It was gorgeous in the warm evening with a breeze blowing around us. After dinner we walked the bride back to where she was staying and had some drinks then wandered home. We felt like a snack but the only place open was the local pizza parlour. Pizza was a bit more snack than we wanted. Then we walked past a private party/bbq at the back of one of the pubs. Next thing, one of our friends had ducked in looking for food. I went after her and a drunken old man insisted we help ourselves to chocolate and carrot cake. So, of course, we had to be polite. Then we took some for the guys (who were hiding behind a tree watching).

The next morning I went for a run with my friend, Simon. We'd been planning it for ages but he thought I'd back out and I'd thought he would. And everyone else thought we both would. But, ha, we went running. Well, okay, there was more walking and talking than running but we did it.

The wedding was being held on a rock on the outskirts of town so we ran out there and then home via a bush track.

By the time we got to the rock, I was so regretting not taking a bottle of water with me. Running in the country is different to the city. There are no water fountains. And it was very hot. Hard to believe that a few hours earlier I'd woken up and put on all my clothes because I was so cold. Damn regional Victoria and it's extremes of weather.

A few kilometres later, we passed some houses with an outside tap and debated helping ourselves to a drink. We figured the worst that could happen was someone coming out and yelling at us compared with rapidly impending dehydration. By that stage my quads were so tight I could barely bend down to drink.

Next up was the steepest hill ever. We decided to run to the top. Halfway up, Simon yelled at me to keep running. I told him I hadn't stopped... I was just running so slow it looked that way.

We walked though town via the local pub for a glass of water then back to the caravan park. When we got to the caravan park, we had to jog back to our van. As if. It was a race to the finish. Except the van was empty and realised the others were up at the tent were the boys were sleeping instead. So it was another sprint. They heard us coming and held up a sarong as the finish line. I thought my legs were going to be worn to smoking stumps but kept pushing myself and we crossed the line at the exact same time.

We worked out we did approx 6-8 kms on our run. Not bad when you consider I walked for another two hours later that night! Hopefully I worked off some of the wedding eating.

For lunch we had a bbq. We hit the town for snags and other necessities. I got a pirate hat. It is a damn cool hat. When I get a photo, I'll post it.

The wedding ceremony was lovely. As I said above, it was on a rock. Tim and I got stuck behind some rellos and couldn't see much but that was okay -- it meant our silliness went unnoticed. It also meant we could suck on VBs and cigs (there's a lot to be said for non-church weddings).

The reception was lovely too. It was in an old covent - a gorgeous old building. We started with drinks and nibblies in the garden. The food hit of the night was these potato, fetta and rosemary things wrapped in filo. We also got a magnificent antipasto platter. Plus wines from a local winery. Delish. Then we moved inside for dinner.

You know something, despite all the things I'd been fuming about, I think I managed to be graceful and charming even after sampling much of the local wine. Once I'd have gotten pissed and mouthed off with all my complaints but I've learnt that achieves little except for making me look bad. I guess that's being a grown up.