It took three hours to get through the border from Serbia to Hungary.

Three

Fucking

Hours.

We left the hotel at 1pm and drove north in the direction of Budapest.

We had a taxi and luckily for us we had a fixed price to drive us all the way to Budapest.

Don't ask me about the journey, I was catching some much needed ZZzz's as I had been the last of the wedding party to retire, at 3am.

I awoke as we entered the gridlock just outside the border and for the next three and a half hours we crawled forward, slowly and agonizingly.

We could have took the train and on any other day it would have the poorer option, as the journey is a good six hours.

We just lucked out, is all.

I tried to sleep more but could not, thankfully I was able to fall into the world of Deckard as he chased down the escaped Nexus Six replicants via the Ipod Itouch.

When we finally emerged into Hungary the rest of the trip was quite easy.

Arriving in Budapest was an exciting experience.

The city feels like a capital city, the roads are wide and the building old and palatial, even if there is a tad too much graffiti.

We checked in and went out to dinner, the first of many fantastic Hungarian meals....

We checked out of the hotel and met Martin's parents in the lobby.

His mother kissed me on the cheek.

''Thank you for looking after Martin so well..'' she said.

I like his mom, she is a true lady, very feminine and petite. Her youthful beauty still shines through.

''Oh, all I did was get him drunk...that was the easy part!!!'' I laughed

She smiled ''Even I could do that!!''

She had a point.

As a respite from the proceedings that were unfolding around us, after Martin had his first dance with Daniella and the first course had been served, Martin and I stepped out of the hotel for a cigarette.

I don't really smoke as a rule, but I had bought a packet of ten more for him than for me, but as he lit up I did so also.

The tobacco was dragged down into my lungs giving me a momentary high.

''I need to ask you a favour'' I said to him.

''Anything at all'' he replied, blowing smoke into the early evening sky.

'' I would like to ask you to be my witness for the CP in September..''

He looked at me.

''I would be honoured'' he said and placed his hand on my shoulder in an affectionate manner.

Later we are sitting enjoying the soup course of the wedding breakfast – there are four in total. I am seated on the top table, but next to the two nieces of Daniella.

They are both four years old.

Ollie, Martin's brother comes over to me and gestures to the two young girls.

''I know you can't discuss the intricacies of Star Wars or The Matrix, so if you get lonely come and pull up a chair next to us...''

I gesture to my glass of wine.

Serbian wine as it happens.

When I took my first glass I thought it was a little harsh, by the end of the night I would be enjoying it.

Either it gets better the more you drink or the more you drink the lower your standards.

Either theory works.

''Thanks mate'' I say ''But I have all the company I need right here in this glass''

Later still.

I lean into the table where Ollie and Lee are sitting.

Lee is a friend of Martin's, his wife one of the bridesmaids.

''Gentlemen'' I say, pulling out a packet of cigars from the inner pocket of my suit.

''Would you care to retire to the drawing room and partake?''

Both of their eyes light up.

We leave the party behind and head outside to the patio and take our seats under the clear night sky.

One after another we lit up and enjoy the moment.

None of us spoke, we just enjoyed silence.

For the briefest of times we had been comrades in the honour of our mutual friend and brother Martin and his now wife Daniella.

Best man speech aside, it was a very good day.

Heck, it was a beautiful day.

It was the hardest thing I have ever done.

No, really.

And I have had a few challenges.

To give a little context, I am quite a shy person.

Sure, when I am ina group or a one to one I can be life and soul, but tell I have to stand in front of a crowd and I go cold with fear.

I can't do it.

I hate it I loathe it.

When Martin asked me to be his best man, I was over the moon and then the realisation dawned on me that I would have to make a speech.

I mean - I managed to organise not one, but TWO stag nights for him, one in Dublin and one in London and they were both great fun.

I soon discovered that that was the easy part...

The ceremony itself was very good, a little diferent but good.

The hotel lobby had been a temporary aisle with an arch.

As the local band began to play a selection of local tunes, I met Martin as the lobby began to fill with guests.

We both looked quite dapper in our suits, I thought.

It is a local custom apparently to buy a little bit of Rosemary (this money is then given to the newlyweds) and this task was assigned to one of the English contingent, and she did rather well, rather like mugging but with herbs.

At the appointed time Martin and I walked along the aisle - and then waited for the bride at the arch.

As we waited the aisle began to fill with dry ice and....bubbles.

Dry ice from below, bubbles from above.

Riiiiiight.

And then the bride appeared.

She looked quite simply stunning.

An understated white dress with a white corset, her dark hair tied up in Audrey Hepburn style, she glided along, her father the proudest man in the world next to her.

A small cheer when Martin confirmed with a 'Da!!' that he would indeed marry her.

After the signing of the register that was pretty much it.

And inside my stomach began to churn, I began to sweat.

The speeches were to go first - in Serbia they do not have them but Martin had insisted, a little english tradition amongst so many Serbian, and I was to go first.

As we all sat at the top table, I wanted to die.

I wanted to bail, to scream, 'fuck this I am out of here' and just leave.

But I didn't.

Martin is my friend, my buddy and drinking partner, I would never , ever let him down.

I sat there rubbing my hands until I heard the music stop.

And I tried.

I tried to make it as good as I wanted it to be, to be as spontaneous and funny as every other Best man speech is, except mine.

And I know I didn't do a great job of it.

I rushed it and went dry in two places, it was an ordeal, it was painful and afterwards I wanted to cry.

I felt I had let him down, let myself down.

A few people said they had enjoyed it but I didn't believe them, I thought they were just being kind.

I just can't do that kind if thing.

But if Martin asked me again.

I would do it again.

'Cause he's my friend.

Maybe John Inman did the interior decor.

This was my thought when we entered our room at the Park Hotel, Novi Sad.

We had landed earlier that morning in Belgrade, then driven for an hour north through some nice but uninteresting countryside.

Just flat, green fields.

I mean, yawnarama.

As we went through Novi Sad it appeared to be your average eastern European town - lots of concrete, graffiti and many, many different and varied shops and eateries begging for your attention.

We turned into the parking lot of the hotel and it seemed nice enough, save for a two headed mutant horse type sculpture..that was all silver with red eyes..very Terminatoresque, as if Skynet hadn't got it quite right at first and had to rethink there means to infiltrate the surviving humans...

The lobby was grand and opulent, all marble and leather sofas.

We met the bride who was chugging back on a cigarrette, one of many thst day as she put the finishing touches to the ceremony.

We hugged and kissed and I have to say I genuinely like Daniella.

I had worked with her a few years before when she met Martin, and played a small role in them getting together.

Later when Martin and I were sharing a flat she would join us every weekend for cocktails and lasagne.

She makes a darn good lasagne, it has to be said.

She is a very strong minded woman, she knows herself and is nobody's fool.

I like that.

We checked in and went to the room, and this is when we were reminded that we were not in Kansas anymore.

The room was decorated either in a 1970's theme or they had no sense of irony.

I'm guessing the latter.

The bed was red.

Red velvet headboard,red velvet base, red beadspread with red cushions with gold bows.

It was an assualt on the visua senses that we did not need after being up at 4am to travel over.

We consoled ourselves with a club sandwich from room sevice.

It helped.