This past Labor Day weekend was pretty much picture perfect. The weather cooperated fully, and the crowds, while present, weren't oppressive.
The fun started Saturday with the Maryland Renaissance Festival, a yearly tradition for the past 33 years in Crownsville, MD. The premise, as you walked through the front gates, was you entered a town in Tudor England decked out in celebration of a visit by the court of Henry VIII. The pinestraw and woodchip strewn paths meandered through the shire as you passed the shops of smiths, tanners, potters, and the like. To get you into the spirit of the event, all merchants, the royal court, entertainers, and many of the crowd were in period dress and addressed you in period vernacular. Being a guy, I was drawn to the few armorers and their wares of chain and plate - and swords; some were period and some were definitely fantasy (Klingon bat'leths were very rare in Henry VIII's court). One armorer in particular was definitely on my must see list. One of these days I'll commission some pieces for Andrea (you'll have to ask her). This year we picked up a stylized dolphin print (think Navy) from Allen Ye Printmaker. We've gotten replica nautical prints from him in the past.
Ale was available to slake your thirst, as were more modern descendants of the brewer's art (I had Blue Moon). The traditional sustenance at the fair, however, was the Henry VIII staple, the turkey leg. Folks strolled down the paths with turkey leg in hand, punctuating their conversation or pointing out items of interest by stabbing it at the air. Meanwhile, little kids would swing theirs around like edible maces, parental admonishments of "Don't play with your food," predictably, falling on deaf ears. "Aww, Mom, it's a turkey leg!"
Entertainment included real elephant rides (possible anachronism), stage shows, strolling bards and minstrels, and of course, a demonstration of period martial arts including the joust. The musical shows were great, but humorously, the dialogue of some comedy shows weren't kid friendly. A friend of ours who caught one of the acts with her youngsters found herself waiting uncomfortably for her oldest to ask, "Mommy, what's a pimp?" Suddenly, over the din of the crowd, I heard bagpipes. I love bagpipes. Now really, as a Filipino, I have no cultural or ethnic reason to love bagpipes, but I do. After listening to a few numbers of the stage band with the bagpiper, I, predictably, bought a CD (definite anachronism).
We also caught one of the tournaments at the list. Pennants were flying, trumpets sounded, and the royal court was seated at the head of the field. Knights in full armor rode out to the respective cheers of their sections. Mounted combat and accuracy with the spear were demonstrated. My mind wandered off, contemplating a time when proficiency in this skill set could establish the prestige of your house, ensure your survival, or at least cause the blue-eyed, freckle-faced, red headed maiden to swoon. The contests continued on until the Mac Daddy of them all, the joust.
At a signal, riders spurred horses to a full gallop, and the thundering staccato of hoof beats grew louder and louder as the two knights converged. Lances were lowered, dust filled the air. You could feel the knights brace for the shock as the distance closed. Then - contact! Lance impacted steel and wood splinters flew. I knew it was 2009 - I was sporting Ray Bans, Nikes, and a cell phone at my hip - but sitting in the bleachers watching the scene, I could easily have been a spectator in some 16th century township. After a few seconds of visual cacophony we saw our knight was still on his mount - the illusion was complete. Huzzah!
