Lucy & Jon: Shorthampton Church and The Bell at Charlbury

Lucy and Jon got married in late October, which in Oxfordshire means you plan for rain and are quietly delighted if it holds off. It didn’t, entirely. Nobody minded.

The ceremony was at All Saints, Shorthampton, a tiny church standing on its own in a field outside Charlbury. The party was at The Bell in Charlbury itself. In between there was a red London bus.

The morning

Getting ready happened in a stone cottage with ivy up the walls and the wood burner already going. October weddings have their own look: candles lit in daylight, pumpkins on the side, everyone slightly too warm indoors and slightly too cold outside.

Jon did his own tie, more or less, and then lined up with his groomsmen for the one photograph where everyone stands still. It lasted about four seconds.

Lucy’s hair was a serious piece of work, all copper curls pinned up and left to fall. Her friends spent most of the morning laughing, which is the best sound to work to.

The bus

Instead of cars there was a Routemaster, red, ribboned, and far too big for the lanes it was about to drive down. The plate says RML 2700, which means it has been doing this sort of thing since the sixties, and it still turns heads in a way no hire car manages.

All Saints, Shorthampton

Shorthampton isn’t really a village. It’s a few houses and a church in a field, about two miles west of Charlbury. The oldest parts of All Saints are Norman, there are fifteenth-century paintings on the walls, and the box pews were put in during the eighteenth century and never taken out. It’s small enough that the back row is close enough to hear the vows properly.

Jon waited by the porch. Lucy arrived under a clutch of umbrellas, holding her dress out of the wet grass with the determination of someone who’d paid for it.

Inside, the light was candles and a grey October sky through old glass, which is about as soft as light gets. I don’t add anything to that. I find a corner and keep still.

The congregation included at least one very small guest who watched the whole thing over the top of a box pew with total concentration, as if he’d been told there would be a test afterwards.

Then the vows, the rings, and the moment where the two of them turned to face a room full of their people.

Out into the rain

They came out of the porch together into a fine, sideways sort of drizzle, and the wind caught Lucy’s veil and took it somewhere over her shoulder. Some of my favourite frames of the day are from those few minutes, because nobody was posing for anything. Everyone was just trying to keep dry.

Back on the bus, up the lanes and into Charlbury for the evening at The Bell, where the pub did what pubs do best on a wet Saturday.

If you’re getting married at Shorthampton

It’s tiny: The church is small, so guest numbers matter. The upside is that nobody is ever far from the front, and it feels like a room rather than a venue.

The light is low: There’s not much of it inside, especially in autumn and winter. Candles help, and I work with what’s there rather than flooding the place with flash.

Think about the field: The church sits in grass, and the path is short but uneven. Bring umbrellas, and shoes you won’t mind getting wet.

Plan the transport: The lanes are narrow and parking is limited, so a single vehicle for guests (a bus, if you can find one) is easier than a convoy of cars. Charlbury is only a few minutes away.

If you’re having your reception at The Bell

The Bell has been a pub since the seventeenth century and was recently restored as part of the Daylesford Stays group. It’s all snugs, fires and low ceilings, with a barn and courtyard for larger gatherings. On an October evening it’s hard to think of anywhere better to end up.

There’s more about my work around here on my Cotswolds wedding photographer page, and the Lookbook has what I charge and what’s included.

A church in a field, a red bus in the rain, and a fire waiting at the other end.