A lovely day for some brutal hacking.

The traditional medieval re-enactment day is one of those activities that I have always wanted to experience. However any such experience in Australia is somewhat marred by the gum tree surrounds, the stifling heat and the cries of "en guarde mate!" However to go to a medieval re-enactment at a real 12th century castle, in sunny but cool weather and accosted with accents more authentic than Mel Gibson's Braveheart makes what might be seen by some as Monty Python-esque actually loads of fun.

With the arrival of Spring all the hibernating castles (disappointingly described in our previous post) re-opened their gates to us and our National Trust membership cards. At long last we could flaunt our free entry privileges to the various aristocratic monuments in the Aberdeen area without the annoyance of being told to go away and come back when the weather was nicer. Now at last it was our time to boldly face the past and buy some souvenirs. Thus one sunny Saturday we were off to the castles once more. Complete with stinking peasants, armoured knights, damsels in (and out of) distress and one persistently obnoxious leper, the Drum Castle medieval day was an experienced not to be missed for the Doris household.
Upon arrival, the family scattered to the various tents and pavilions inhabited by hose-legged men with various felt head coverings or long-dressed ladies, each offering morsels of authentically cooked food or bits of war kit to put on. Natasha and I immediately stood around the sword smith's tent looking for opportunities to swing a variety of nasty looking weapons around, while Callum decided that his fun would be had by flirting with the young damsels at the ring toss game. Grace managed (of course) to run into people that she knew from work/Church and spent much of the day trying to get me away from the weapons in order to show my face and be sociable.

Later in the afternoon the mock battles began, ostensibly over some slight to the "Lord of the Castle" by a knight in the employ of some enemy baron. After being shoved before the "Lord's" court and having the appropriate epithets of "murderous dog" hurled at him, the guilty knight was tried and sentenced to death, only to have the trial interrupted by a tall armoured man sounding rather English charging in with his band of "knights" to challenge the verdict by right of combat. Of course all agreed and proceeded to the roped off battle ground shouting various iterations of the you-will-die-like-dogs" curse. In the ensuing swordfights (the winners of which had obviously been agreed upon ahead of time) the English baron and his men were defeated by the local lord (this is Scotland after all) and all invaders were mock dispatched with blade against chain-mailed throat.
While all this was going on, I noticed a lone archer shooting arrows at wheat sack targets, and thinking that he was waiting to demonstrate his long-bow to eager fans of all things medieval I meandered up to see him. Little did I know that this dentally challenged re-creationist from Dundee was quite happy to just twang away on his own, his council flat not allowing him opportunities to shoot arrows much. After giving me the rundown on longbow archery he admitted that he mostly came to these events because it was the only chance he got to practice. Amidst his garb was a great looking helmet that he admitted was an old bomb shelter warden's that he rubbed the paint off of. While his colleagues with the swords scoffed at this kind of costume shortcut, the helmet looked good enough to fool the unwary and only cost "a fiver" to boot.

After a day of belligerent battles, trying on various helmets, the purchase of a few garden plants and getting Natasha put into "the stocks" for the crime of not making her bed, we finally trudged wearily home with cardboard shields and half empty water bottles safely packed away. It is days like this that make us sigh and think, "gee we love Scotland".