The best photographs from this wedding were taken at ten o’clock at night, indoors, in a hotel corridor.
I want to lead with that, because Niamh and Gary married at Hodson Bay Hotel on the last Sunday in October, which was also the night the clocks went back. Sunset was around half four. By the time the plates were cleared it had been dark for hours. On paper that is a photographer’s problem. In practice it turned out to be the thing that made the day work.
We filmed this wedding as well as photographing it, and it is the first film we have published. Four minutes, the whole day, sound and all:
Everything below is the same day in stills.

A Long Morning
The morning started downstairs in the hotel spa and stretched out. Hair and makeup for a full bridal party takes as long as it takes, and the advantage of a venue where everything is under one roof is that nobody spends that time watching a clock or checking directions.

Sage green for the bridesmaids, which turned out to be the right call against the autumn colour that ran through the rest of the day: burnt orange, deep red, brass. Nothing in this wedding was accidental.

Gary was in burgundy velvet, and spent a good while sitting in a quiet corner reading his vows back to himself. His groomsmen were in black. That contrast does a lot of work in group photographs, and it is worth thinking about when you are choosing suits: if everyone wears the same thing, the eye has nowhere to go.

That corridor behind them is the one I mentioned. Hold that thought.


The Arch
Every wedding has one decision that sets the tone. Here it was the ceremony arch: a full horseshoe of autumn maple, oak and berry, mounted over the top of the aisle rather than behind the couple.

Mounting it at the entrance instead of the altar is the smart part. An arch behind a couple has to compete with them for the whole ceremony. An arch at the back of the room frames every single photograph taken from behind the guests, and then gets out of the way. If you are dressing a hotel function room and want one thing that transforms it, this is the thing.

Both parents walked her in, which I always like photographing, and the room was lit with pillar candles and lanterns down either side of a white aisle runner.



The Sun Lounge, and Why Group Photos Were Painless
Here is the practical reason to book this venue, and it is not glamorous: Hodson Bay has a long sun lounge glazed on three sides, looking out towards Lough Ree.

It was late October in the Irish midlands. It was not a day for standing on a lawn. But a room with glass on three sides is effectively an outdoor location with a roof: soft light from every direction, no squinting, no wind in anyone’s hair, and no wet grass under anyone’s heels.

We got through the full family list in about twenty-five minutes, including several groups I would normally budget an hour for. Nobody had to be marshalled anywhere. Guests came in with drinks in their hands from the reception next door, got photographed, and went straight back.
If you are choosing between venues and one of them has a room like this, weigh it heavily. It is the difference between group photographs being a chore your guests endure and a thing that happens while they are having a nice time.
Dinner


A second, smaller arch went over the cake in the window bay, which is the kind of detail that only makes sense once you see the room: it gives the cake table a frame in a space that would otherwise be a flat wall of curtain.


Speeches ran long and nobody minded. Niamh gave one of her own, which more brides should, and it was the best of the night.
Ten O’Clock, in a Corridor
By the time we got to couple portraits it was two hours after dark and the band was already set up. At most venues that would be the end of it: you take what you can get in the car park, or you have already done them at four and moved on.

The glass corridor runs most of the length of the hotel: white panelling, tall sash windows down one side, brass lanterns hanging at intervals the whole way. It has depth, it has symmetry, and the lanterns give warm pools of light every few metres. At ten at night, with black windows either side, it reads as intimate rather than empty.

Twenty minutes, no coats, no car, no waiting on weather. This is the argument for indoor portrait spaces that I find hardest to make in advance and easiest to make afterwards.
We did step outside for two frames, because the tree beside the hotel was still holding gold and the hotel lights were catching it.


The Band


Planning a Wedding at Hodson Bay Hotel
That is the day. Here is the practical side, for anyone weighing the venue up rather than just looking at the photographs.
The Midlands Argument
Hodson Bay sits a few minutes outside Athlone, which is close enough to the centre of Ireland that it barely matters where your guests are coming from. Dublin, Galway, Limerick and the border counties are all roughly the same drive. For a wedding pulling people from opposite ends of the country, that is not a small thing: everyone arrives within the same half hour rather than trickling in across an afternoon.
There are enough bedrooms on site that the evening does not end with a taxi rank, and a spa for the day before.
Build the Day Around the Rooms, Not the Sun
The genuine constraint of a late October date is that the day is short. The clocks went back the night before this wedding; sunset was around half four, and dinner started in the dark.
At a garden venue that would have cost real photographs. Here it cost nothing, because Hodson Bay’s two strongest photographic spaces are both interiors that look the same at any hour. Plan accordingly and the whole anxiety disappears: put group photographs in the sun lounge whenever the drinks reception happens, and take couple portraits in the corridor whenever there is a gap, even if that gap turns out to be after the main course.
The upside of an autumn date is real, too. The colour was still in the trees, the room was candlelit from five o’clock, and the evening looked like evening from six rather than from half ten.
One Arch, Well Placed
Hotel ceremony rooms are the hardest spaces to dress well, because they start out neutral and most decoration just adds clutter. The single most effective thing at this wedding was one large arch at the back of the aisle rather than behind the couple. It framed every wide photograph of the ceremony and then stayed out of the way for the close ones.
If your budget for florals has to go on one item, put it there.
The Frame Worth Booking It For
Two, at opposite ends of the day: the ceremony room shot from the back of the room through that ring of autumn leaves, and the couple alone in the lantern-lit corridor at ten at night. Neither of them needed weather, and neither of them needed daylight.
The Lake Is an Option, Not a Dependency
On a dry day with a longer evening, the grounds add a completely different set of photographs. The hotel sits directly on Lough Ree and promotes its lakeside backdrops and grounds as part of the wedding setting. The shore, terrace and open western sky are there if the light and timeline suit them; this October wedding is proof that the gallery does not depend on using them.
Athlone is a short drive away, so the castle, the Shannon and the streets around the Left Bank are also possible if a couple specifically wants a town portrait. I would treat that as an optional trip agreed in advance, not something to squeeze into an already busy drinks reception.
Thinking About Hodson Bay?
If you are looking at venues in the midlands and want somewhere that takes the travel problem off the table for a scattered guest list, this one is worth the drive to see. And if you are being talked out of an autumn date because of the light, this wedding is the counterargument.
There is more on the county in the Westmeath wedding photography guide.
Have a look at wedding photography packages, or at the photo and film bundles if you want the day held both ways. Or just get in touch and tell me about it.