A Year in the Life . . .

A warmer field in Dorset

Wareham - Late May Bank Holiday : 1999

The Saxon festival at Wareham is a regular Regia event Wareham is a pretty little place with appealing pubs and picturesque cottages lining the streets quite unassuming at first impressions. Hardly the place to host a hoard of rampaging Vikings and Saxons. But regardless of this, the big thing for me, was that it was my first ever "real" Regia event (drum rolls please!!!)

So, still being limited to one night's absence from Carole and the screaming (and later, to be discovered, hungry) Owen, I arrived on the Sunday morning. Catching Paul's eye through the fence, I managed to find my way INTO the encampment and the 20th century campsite, where I could change into more appropriate gear. On my way I passed other members of our group packing up - who were under similar curfews from their respective other halves! Kevin and Liz (and their baby, Finn) were there at the Wic (the authentic campsite) so I was not alone. I had little time to relax, as that morning's training session was about to begin. As I had and still do intend to be able to use my sword as soon as possible, I leapt into the organised fray, and died hideously time and time again. Well - to do myself some credit - I didn't die that often, but I died more than I'd like!

The layout of the arena was sprawling. There was one large 20th century - style trading tent stuck all alone in one part of the field, and on the same side was the authentic section. This was cramped in comparison and could have done with spreading itself about a bit. The other two sides of the quadrangular arena were dotted about with food tents. It isn't as bad as it sounds on paper, but the layout could have been better in my opinion. Shortly after I came off the field, I was swiftly approached by a gentleman (whose name I have forgotten) and asked whether I would like to help row the longship they had moored on the river which passed through the village. Being new, I quickly accepted and joined the other applicants on the dray horse carriage which took us ploddingly to town free of charge. They did try and suggest that we (and other Regia society members) pay for this speedy form of transport, but they got no money from us in the end.

The boat was situated by two (remember that, TWO) pubs! And after the (assumedly) new Regia member was told to put a cloak over his 20th century clothes, we rowed away and vast speeds. There isn't a lot you can say about rowing, except it was hard work (I'm sure I was the only one rowing really hard), unless something goes wrong. Well something did not dramatically, but the commander's friend ( I do remember his name, but I shall avoid embarrassing him too much. He knows who he is) took command - I think he had done it before, but I'm not sure. At a particularly nasty bend, he realised his limitations as we almost ran aground. Cue lots of reversing (yes you can reverse a longship) and sheepish looks. We did return eventually and received lots of second looks from tourists who were walking along side the river and after negotiating a ratbag who took our mooring position the main event was about to begin. So no refreshments!!!

I forget the format of the show, but it revolved around locals offering money to avoid being ransacked by the Vikings (one of whom was me). A pittance would be offered to us, we would reject it, fight and fall back. They would then throw a bag full of bones at us, as payment instead. We would take this as an insult and attack. But disaster struck, as my shield strap came undone moments before the attack began, so until the initial clash was finished, I swapped my two handed spear with Paul's single hander. In the majority of battles, there is always an "initial" clash, where all we do is make lots of noise and "ham" it up. This was easily achieved, and once completed, I re-threaded by strap and took up my two-hander again. In the end, it was a bloodbath and we were on the wrong end. The enemy out manoeuvred us, by flanking our shield wall on both sides. We were disorganised and our morale dissipated But all in all, it was rather good fun! A bit like battle practise, but a lot shorter. After the public were invited onto the field, and questions were asked and, with an assumed air of authority, answered by yours truly, I left the field to do a serious bit of shopping. I shan't bore you with the details of my shopping spree, but in the end, I put an order in for a made-to-measure helmet (cost £150).

Originally it was to have been of a Viking (spectacle) design, but as my character was ultimately Saxon, and all of my other kit was Saxon, and of later age, I changed my mind and vouched for a standard nasal helm. This helmet, I can use in practically all of Regia's events, and made a lot more (financial) sense. My time at Wareham was over far too quickly, and I look forward to being there for the duration, next year - perhaps with the family - and perhaps in a tent (or B&B for Carole and Owen?)