The aftermath (Saturday)
In the morning, a large number of very disgruntled fighters left the hall. I was sorry to see them go because I thought that while the fair may have been washed out, the lists were still there, and we could still use them. Also, I had wanted to fight many of those who left. As the Stones said, you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need.
We ended up with an interesting mix of first-timers (like Bronwen and myself), and more experienced campaigners. We were all there either because we didn't want to give up on the idea just yet.
Then Laurent and Susanne appeared and gave us the news that the tournament was still on, and would be held on the Sunday. We could do some training fights in the lists that day to prepare, and Laurent set about making lists for the categories to be fought, and profights to be made.
There was a team of French profighters who had come along only for the profights, and so Little Melanie (the one German fighter who stayed) and I were given the option of making a profight match with one of the French guys. Sam, who was there for his first profight, like me, agreed to make a matchup, which was brilliant. There was about a 10kg weight difference (me being the heavier), and, as it turned out, a good deal of training and technique difference (him being the better prepared). We both agreed, though, that it was the experience that counted more.
It rained for some of the day, and we armoured up in the hall and slushed our way down to the fairground where the lists still stood. I think between Bronwen, Euan, Melanie and I, we had a bit of a round robin of sword and shield, but by the the time Gaultier and Julie, the Belgian fighters, arrived with their longswords, we'd had enough of sliding around, so we left them to it and went back up to dry off.
It was still warm and humid, so it was just like being back home in the summer. The only difference was the effect on my own internal clock. You see, when we left, I was in winter-mode. Sun rises late and sets early, so when the sun sets, you know it will be a couple of hours until bedtime. In Nommern, the sun rose early and set very late. It was an adjustment I simply was not able to make, so we ended up going to bed well after midnight every night while we were there, and waking quite early. Tiring? Possibly. But I have yet to be so stimulated by the sheer variety of languages and people, and trying to understand and communicate kept me going until my brain just hit the off switch and my eyes closed by themselves.
Thanks to Jacob Pothecary for these photos:
The tournament (Sunday)
I had decided before leaving that profight and buhurt were the priority for this tournament, so when Laurent asked which singles categories I wanted to fight in, I said, "just put me in where it is easiest to make up an even number" and so, for my sins, I ended up in longsword, which is not my best weapon. Not that I'm complaining. I do believe that a good fighter should be able to use all of the weapons available, and not simply stick to specialisations of one or the other.
Bronwen went for sword and shield, longsword and buhurt, which was a good choice for her.
Tala went straight for the horses, having decided that she was going to find a way to get a Haflinger and bring it back home with us. Failing that, she was going to ride one of them.
We armoured up and again slushed our way to the lists in our home-made leather fighting shoes.
Sword and shield category was first, and Bronwen fell into the one hole in the field on her way to her first fight, which was against Gaulthier, I think. What no-one noticed (because she was wearing a very fine Rogue Squadron surcoat over her gear) was that the fall had displaced Bronwen's right pauldron, and it was sitting too far back, exposing her shoulder. So when she took a hit on the shoulder, there was no nifty spring steel to catch the blow.
At this point, I have to mention the immense amount of grit this woman showed, getting up and continuing through the fights. She was in pain, battling to lift her sword arm, and also feeling the heat (since the sun had decided to come out), but where a lesser person would have given up and withdrawn, she did not. And for that reason, I am incredibly proud to call her my teammate.
Bronwen went on to get a medal for placing in the women's scores. Men and women fought together, but the eventual scores were divided.
In the longsword, we had five, but Bronwen decided to give her shoulder a rest so that she could fight in the buhurt, and so withdrew from that category, leaving us with four. We had a round robin, and I used Laurent's Albion. I think the combination of the superior blade and Josh's armouring tweaks helped to improve my fighting so that I was able to at least give my opponents a bit of a fight. Jacob hits like a sledgehammer, and he got me right on the one place were there was a small gap (ironically he had pointed this gap out to me beforehand), giving me one hell of a mousie on the bicep. He got some good shots in, but I took the fight. He was also battling with his armour, and had fought in the sword and shield, so it wasn't such a terrible loss for him. Julie was quick and sneaky with her hits, and she fought very well. That went to three rounds, and she took the fight, deservedly. Gaulthier was not only fast but also came on very strong, barging in and pommel-striking quite a lot. He took that fight in two rounds. I was able to avoid some of his strikes, but eventually, he got tired of stuffing about and just came in and hammered me.
Like I said, longsword is not my weapon of choice, and I haven't really trained with it much this year, but even if I had, that dude just fought really well, and I counted it a valuable experience.
Also, it's not many tournaments abroad where you get mixed fights, I'm told. Apparently, in some countries, men and women even train separately. So, the opportunity to fight everyone under tournament conditions, for me at least, trumps a win.
Profight was next, and my matchup with Sam was the last fight, so I had some time to recover.
I didn't know what to expect, and finding out was really the point of the exercise. I found out that I can take several shield punches to the face without falling down, which is something I was not able to do last year at IMCF. I also discovered that I can last three rounds' worth of shield punches to the face without falling down. So I levelled up. I found out that at the end of the third round, when I thought I was ready to stop, I just had to open my eyes a bit wider and look for the gap, and I could actually punch back with my own shield, but it took three rounds for me to get an idea of what to do, and by that time the fight was over. I found out that for profight, Sam and the rest of the guys from his team were training at least ten hours a week to my three, and that most of that training was sparring. Sam won that fight, I suspect by quite a comfortable margin, but I also won some very valuable experience, and now I know what I have to do to get better.
There is nothing like trying. If you try, if you test yourself, you will find out what you are lacking, and consequently, you are already better for finding out.
The buhurt was last in the day, and it was a 4v3 (first round) with Laurent, Dan and Gaulthier on one side, and two of the Scots (Euan and Scott), Bronwen and I on the other. I felt sorry for the Scots because Bron and I weren't much help, although Bron stayed up longer than I did. She fought hard, took the pounding and then got taken out by Laurent (using my shield, hahaha). I think Dan took me out the first time. I don't even know how. That dude is so strong!
The second round was 3v3, as Bron decided to call it a day. No shame there. We went in and I tried to face off against Gaulthier, seeing that he was the smallest of the three giants, but I was thwarted by Laurent, who came in and pounded me with an axe until I fell against the lists and had to go down.
That was fun! Both rounds. I wish that we could have done more, but everyone else was over the heat. I was also feeling like it was becoming beer o'clock, and then they said one more round of circle of dishonour. Misch asked if I was keen and I said, "Hmmm, no," and he said, "Just try it," so I said , "Okay," and turned around to find it was me versus Laurent, who was quite happy to let me attempt, oh I don't even know what I was trying to do, but after a bit, it became evident that I wasn't going to present much of a challenge, so he kindly tripped me to the ground, thereby ending the fighting.
It was an excellent event. There was battle and some bloodshed, sunburn and lots of water (thanks to the organisers), and we had a really good marshalling team. Julia was consistent and fair as Knight Marshall, and I don't think there was any discrepancies with our counting marshalls. The fights were well-run, and every fighter was checked for safety before they entered the lists.
You can watch videos of the fighting here, thanks to Guillaume Dessommes.
*This is an update: the Scots gave Little Melanie a brilliant nickname, and so she is now henceforth known as Mad Mel.
Here we are, after swapping surcoats. The photo is Mad Mel's origination. She is the one on the right.
The pack-up (Monday)
The fighters left the hall on Monday, after having celebrated a successful end to an adventure. I was a bit sad to have to say goodbye because those of us who had chosen to stick around after the Great Nommern Flood of 2016 had bonded on some level. We had become friends with the French fighters, who in the beginning had stuck to themselves and appeared standoffish. They weren't really. They were a great bunch of people. So were the Belgians, the Germans (Little Mel and Julia), the Luxembourgers and the Scots. We all helped each other out and offered support, shouted encouragement, gave advice, compared styles or techniques, shared food and drink, and joked about the language barrier. What language barrier? Well, by Monday, there was a very thin veil, but no real barrier to speak of.
I know I'm getting sentimental here, but I noticed that none of the people who attended that tournament and with whom we camped in the hall (including those who lived nearby) had an attitude of superiority. No-one claimed that space, and so we were all able to talk to each other and just be fighters. I was loathe to leave that atmosphere of camaraderie behind, after making such good connections with these people.
But, we packed up all of our stuff, cleaned up as best we could, played another quick game of tetris, and headed out to Germany to visit Susanne's parents for lunch. I don't remember the town we went to, but we took a walk through the forest and saw Rammstein (the American base, not the band). Susanne's parents were perfect hosts, and we spoke about all kinds of things while we ate pasta and salad. It was a good way to come down from the high of fighting, back into the real world, with gentle, intelligent people.
Also, Susanne's Mom made literally the best cake I have ever tasted. Thanks, Mom.
Before going back to Bissen we also stopped off at an old fort on the top of a hill, giving a breathtaking view of the forested German hills in the area. We shared some really good bubbly and played some cards on the grass, and chilled together.
We only got to Hollenfels castle, our last stop before heading home, around midnight, because we spent some time with Susanne and Laurent, chatting about fighting and other things and making the time count before we had to leave.
The journey home (Tues/Wed)
Tala, the newly-inducted castle critic, was disgusted to find that Castle Hollenfels had been modernised inside to accommodate a youth hostel, and did not contain the requisite broken walls, mysterious tapestries and echoes that we had experienced in the others. Also, it was raining, so we didn't get to explore much on the outside, which was very pretty.
We were ready on time to go to the airport with Susanne and we made our way there without incident. She saw us safely into the terminal and said farewell. What a kind and wonderful person! I feel privileged that she chose to spend her time with us, and I hope that she and her husband will allow us to return the favour some day.
Funny thing: we got into Luxembourg with seven swords without trouble. Getting out with three swords, they asked us for a permit for the weapons. It was perplexing, but I explained patiently, and the security officer who only spoke French also patiently listened and called another security officer to figure it all out. He waved us on and it was all fine. It was an odd incongruency, though, for a country that appears to run like clockwork.
I loved Luxembourg. The roads and little towns were so pretty. The open meadows and forests, free of the threat of encroaching development, seemed idyllic, and although I don't speak French, German or Luxembourgish, people seemed happy with just "moien" (hello) and a grin. Tala noted the very clean streets and the flowers in all the window boxes. Bronwen noted the lack of homeless people. I noted the lack of housing developments in the countryside. It is a tiny country, and you can't hope to accomplish this kind of lifestyle with a population or area the size of South Africa, so it's unfair to compare. Logistically, it is easier to run a smaller country. But it also seems that their attitude towards the responsibility of the individual citizen is one that promotes self-reliance in people, and I hope that one day, as hard as it may be for our government to implement (sort of like a tough love alternative) we will see less reliance on the government for income and more self-reliance from our people. I think that this is one feature which promotes pride in one's country, and accountability to each other.
Our journey back was long and the flight home was full, but it was good to get back, finally, and to be here, in the comfy chair with my lover and my friends and animals.
We brought back a lot of loot from trades and gifts, and we'll go through it and see what to do with it in time. Right now, I need to focus on improving my armour, making a new coat of plates, and a new aventail, since I gave most of my scales away on Sunday.
We have Combat Pit in two weeks, and as Bron and I noted on the way home, the adventure may be over, but now the serious work begins.
The most important piece of knowledge that I have taken away from this experience is that those fighters who want to stuff around once a week for an hour or two will not be sufficiently prepared to compete on the international circuit; they will remain hobbyists, and I do not judge those who enjoy the sport at that level. However, for those of us in South Africa who want to compete in medieval combat as a sport, we will need to up the ante and put in a lot more effort into training, specifically in combat, and augment it with further hours in the gym, running, pushing weights and other forms of fitness.
Thank you for following my adventure. I have never claimed to be the best fighter, but I can now claim to be among the most fortunate, having done the Red Lion Survival Challenge and made so many new and awesome friends. There will be more adventures, I know, and I can't wait to have them with you.
In the morning, a large number of very disgruntled fighters left the hall. I was sorry to see them go because I thought that while the fair may have been washed out, the lists were still there, and we could still use them. Also, I had wanted to fight many of those who left. As the Stones said, you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need.
We ended up with an interesting mix of first-timers (like Bronwen and myself), and more experienced campaigners. We were all there either because we didn't want to give up on the idea just yet.Then Laurent and Susanne appeared and gave us the news that the tournament was still on, and would be held on the Sunday. We could do some training fights in the lists that day to prepare, and Laurent set about making lists for the categories to be fought, and profights to be made.
There was a team of French profighters who had come along only for the profights, and so Little Melanie (the one German fighter who stayed) and I were given the option of making a profight match with one of the French guys. Sam, who was there for his first profight, like me, agreed to make a matchup, which was brilliant. There was about a 10kg weight difference (me being the heavier), and, as it turned out, a good deal of training and technique difference (him being the better prepared). We both agreed, though, that it was the experience that counted more.
It rained for some of the day, and we armoured up in the hall and slushed our way down to the fairground where the lists still stood. I think between Bronwen, Euan, Melanie and I, we had a bit of a round robin of sword and shield, but by the the time Gaultier and Julie, the Belgian fighters, arrived with their longswords, we'd had enough of sliding around, so we left them to it and went back up to dry off.
It was still warm and humid, so it was just like being back home in the summer. The only difference was the effect on my own internal clock. You see, when we left, I was in winter-mode. Sun rises late and sets early, so when the sun sets, you know it will be a couple of hours until bedtime. In Nommern, the sun rose early and set very late. It was an adjustment I simply was not able to make, so we ended up going to bed well after midnight every night while we were there, and waking quite early. Tiring? Possibly. But I have yet to be so stimulated by the sheer variety of languages and people, and trying to understand and communicate kept me going until my brain just hit the off switch and my eyes closed by themselves.
Thanks to Jacob Pothecary for these photos:
The tournament (Sunday)
I had decided before leaving that profight and buhurt were the priority for this tournament, so when Laurent asked which singles categories I wanted to fight in, I said, "just put me in where it is easiest to make up an even number" and so, for my sins, I ended up in longsword, which is not my best weapon. Not that I'm complaining. I do believe that a good fighter should be able to use all of the weapons available, and not simply stick to specialisations of one or the other.
Bronwen went for sword and shield, longsword and buhurt, which was a good choice for her.
Tala went straight for the horses, having decided that she was going to find a way to get a Haflinger and bring it back home with us. Failing that, she was going to ride one of them.
We armoured up and again slushed our way to the lists in our home-made leather fighting shoes.
Sword and shield category was first, and Bronwen fell into the one hole in the field on her way to her first fight, which was against Gaulthier, I think. What no-one noticed (because she was wearing a very fine Rogue Squadron surcoat over her gear) was that the fall had displaced Bronwen's right pauldron, and it was sitting too far back, exposing her shoulder. So when she took a hit on the shoulder, there was no nifty spring steel to catch the blow.
At this point, I have to mention the immense amount of grit this woman showed, getting up and continuing through the fights. She was in pain, battling to lift her sword arm, and also feeling the heat (since the sun had decided to come out), but where a lesser person would have given up and withdrawn, she did not. And for that reason, I am incredibly proud to call her my teammate.
Bronwen went on to get a medal for placing in the women's scores. Men and women fought together, but the eventual scores were divided.
In the longsword, we had five, but Bronwen decided to give her shoulder a rest so that she could fight in the buhurt, and so withdrew from that category, leaving us with four. We had a round robin, and I used Laurent's Albion. I think the combination of the superior blade and Josh's armouring tweaks helped to improve my fighting so that I was able to at least give my opponents a bit of a fight. Jacob hits like a sledgehammer, and he got me right on the one place were there was a small gap (ironically he had pointed this gap out to me beforehand), giving me one hell of a mousie on the bicep. He got some good shots in, but I took the fight. He was also battling with his armour, and had fought in the sword and shield, so it wasn't such a terrible loss for him. Julie was quick and sneaky with her hits, and she fought very well. That went to three rounds, and she took the fight, deservedly. Gaulthier was not only fast but also came on very strong, barging in and pommel-striking quite a lot. He took that fight in two rounds. I was able to avoid some of his strikes, but eventually, he got tired of stuffing about and just came in and hammered me.
Like I said, longsword is not my weapon of choice, and I haven't really trained with it much this year, but even if I had, that dude just fought really well, and I counted it a valuable experience.
Also, it's not many tournaments abroad where you get mixed fights, I'm told. Apparently, in some countries, men and women even train separately. So, the opportunity to fight everyone under tournament conditions, for me at least, trumps a win.
Profight was next, and my matchup with Sam was the last fight, so I had some time to recover.
I didn't know what to expect, and finding out was really the point of the exercise. I found out that I can take several shield punches to the face without falling down, which is something I was not able to do last year at IMCF. I also discovered that I can last three rounds' worth of shield punches to the face without falling down. So I levelled up. I found out that at the end of the third round, when I thought I was ready to stop, I just had to open my eyes a bit wider and look for the gap, and I could actually punch back with my own shield, but it took three rounds for me to get an idea of what to do, and by that time the fight was over. I found out that for profight, Sam and the rest of the guys from his team were training at least ten hours a week to my three, and that most of that training was sparring. Sam won that fight, I suspect by quite a comfortable margin, but I also won some very valuable experience, and now I know what I have to do to get better.
There is nothing like trying. If you try, if you test yourself, you will find out what you are lacking, and consequently, you are already better for finding out.
The buhurt was last in the day, and it was a 4v3 (first round) with Laurent, Dan and Gaulthier on one side, and two of the Scots (Euan and Scott), Bronwen and I on the other. I felt sorry for the Scots because Bron and I weren't much help, although Bron stayed up longer than I did. She fought hard, took the pounding and then got taken out by Laurent (using my shield, hahaha). I think Dan took me out the first time. I don't even know how. That dude is so strong!
That was fun! Both rounds. I wish that we could have done more, but everyone else was over the heat. I was also feeling like it was becoming beer o'clock, and then they said one more round of circle of dishonour. Misch asked if I was keen and I said, "Hmmm, no," and he said, "Just try it," so I said , "Okay," and turned around to find it was me versus Laurent, who was quite happy to let me attempt, oh I don't even know what I was trying to do, but after a bit, it became evident that I wasn't going to present much of a challenge, so he kindly tripped me to the ground, thereby ending the fighting.
It was an excellent event. There was battle and some bloodshed, sunburn and lots of water (thanks to the organisers), and we had a really good marshalling team. Julia was consistent and fair as Knight Marshall, and I don't think there was any discrepancies with our counting marshalls. The fights were well-run, and every fighter was checked for safety before they entered the lists.
You can watch videos of the fighting here, thanks to Guillaume Dessommes.
*This is an update: the Scots gave Little Melanie a brilliant nickname, and so she is now henceforth known as Mad Mel.
Here we are, after swapping surcoats. The photo is Mad Mel's origination. She is the one on the right.
The pack-up (Monday)
The fighters left the hall on Monday, after having celebrated a successful end to an adventure. I was a bit sad to have to say goodbye because those of us who had chosen to stick around after the Great Nommern Flood of 2016 had bonded on some level. We had become friends with the French fighters, who in the beginning had stuck to themselves and appeared standoffish. They weren't really. They were a great bunch of people. So were the Belgians, the Germans (Little Mel and Julia), the Luxembourgers and the Scots. We all helped each other out and offered support, shouted encouragement, gave advice, compared styles or techniques, shared food and drink, and joked about the language barrier. What language barrier? Well, by Monday, there was a very thin veil, but no real barrier to speak of.
I know I'm getting sentimental here, but I noticed that none of the people who attended that tournament and with whom we camped in the hall (including those who lived nearby) had an attitude of superiority. No-one claimed that space, and so we were all able to talk to each other and just be fighters. I was loathe to leave that atmosphere of camaraderie behind, after making such good connections with these people.
But, we packed up all of our stuff, cleaned up as best we could, played another quick game of tetris, and headed out to Germany to visit Susanne's parents for lunch. I don't remember the town we went to, but we took a walk through the forest and saw Rammstein (the American base, not the band). Susanne's parents were perfect hosts, and we spoke about all kinds of things while we ate pasta and salad. It was a good way to come down from the high of fighting, back into the real world, with gentle, intelligent people.
Also, Susanne's Mom made literally the best cake I have ever tasted. Thanks, Mom.
Before going back to Bissen we also stopped off at an old fort on the top of a hill, giving a breathtaking view of the forested German hills in the area. We shared some really good bubbly and played some cards on the grass, and chilled together.
We only got to Hollenfels castle, our last stop before heading home, around midnight, because we spent some time with Susanne and Laurent, chatting about fighting and other things and making the time count before we had to leave.
The journey home (Tues/Wed)
Tala, the newly-inducted castle critic, was disgusted to find that Castle Hollenfels had been modernised inside to accommodate a youth hostel, and did not contain the requisite broken walls, mysterious tapestries and echoes that we had experienced in the others. Also, it was raining, so we didn't get to explore much on the outside, which was very pretty.
We were ready on time to go to the airport with Susanne and we made our way there without incident. She saw us safely into the terminal and said farewell. What a kind and wonderful person! I feel privileged that she chose to spend her time with us, and I hope that she and her husband will allow us to return the favour some day.
Funny thing: we got into Luxembourg with seven swords without trouble. Getting out with three swords, they asked us for a permit for the weapons. It was perplexing, but I explained patiently, and the security officer who only spoke French also patiently listened and called another security officer to figure it all out. He waved us on and it was all fine. It was an odd incongruency, though, for a country that appears to run like clockwork.
I loved Luxembourg. The roads and little towns were so pretty. The open meadows and forests, free of the threat of encroaching development, seemed idyllic, and although I don't speak French, German or Luxembourgish, people seemed happy with just "moien" (hello) and a grin. Tala noted the very clean streets and the flowers in all the window boxes. Bronwen noted the lack of homeless people. I noted the lack of housing developments in the countryside. It is a tiny country, and you can't hope to accomplish this kind of lifestyle with a population or area the size of South Africa, so it's unfair to compare. Logistically, it is easier to run a smaller country. But it also seems that their attitude towards the responsibility of the individual citizen is one that promotes self-reliance in people, and I hope that one day, as hard as it may be for our government to implement (sort of like a tough love alternative) we will see less reliance on the government for income and more self-reliance from our people. I think that this is one feature which promotes pride in one's country, and accountability to each other.
Our journey back was long and the flight home was full, but it was good to get back, finally, and to be here, in the comfy chair with my lover and my friends and animals.
We brought back a lot of loot from trades and gifts, and we'll go through it and see what to do with it in time. Right now, I need to focus on improving my armour, making a new coat of plates, and a new aventail, since I gave most of my scales away on Sunday.
We have Combat Pit in two weeks, and as Bron and I noted on the way home, the adventure may be over, but now the serious work begins.
The most important piece of knowledge that I have taken away from this experience is that those fighters who want to stuff around once a week for an hour or two will not be sufficiently prepared to compete on the international circuit; they will remain hobbyists, and I do not judge those who enjoy the sport at that level. However, for those of us in South Africa who want to compete in medieval combat as a sport, we will need to up the ante and put in a lot more effort into training, specifically in combat, and augment it with further hours in the gym, running, pushing weights and other forms of fitness.
Thank you for following my adventure. I have never claimed to be the best fighter, but I can now claim to be among the most fortunate, having done the Red Lion Survival Challenge and made so many new and awesome friends. There will be more adventures, I know, and I can't wait to have them with you.
