On Thursday, we returned from the Red Lion Challenge in Luxembourg. It was really good to return home, although Luxembourg has found a little place in the softest bit of my heart, right next to Poland. Our travels, despite being balanced on the knife edge of the Gods' favour, were logistically drama-free, largely due to five people: Josh prepared all of the armour and weapons, Bronwen made a mission to ensure that all of our documents were in order with the Belgian Consulate, and followed up time and again so that we received our passports on time; Dion made sure that all of the letters of permission were done so that we could get out and back into the country with Tala without intercession from the authorities; Laurent did and redid paperwork enough times to satisfy the bureaucrats at the consulate, and then some more; finally, Susanne (Laurent's beautiful and multitalented wife) got us from the airport and made sure that we used every trip we took to see something of their culture and have another new experience. She drove us all over the countryside with a smile and a ready list of perfect ideas, and more importantly, she was our friend from the second we met. I couldn't have asked for a better host for our first experience of Luxembourg. And now that I've finished gushing, here's the trip in a nutshell:
The packing
We had 30kg each for armour, weapons, garb and banners. We also managed to fit a couple of packs of biltong and some ciders into one of the armour bags. As it was, were riding low, and I was glad that Tala only had some clothes and no armour for herself.
We took over seven swords (two of our own and five for sale), two banners, two complete armours and some basic tools and clothes.
The journey (Wed/Thurs)
We travelled for 15 hours going there, and just about 24 hours coming back (we had a long layover in Istanbul). I think Turkish Airlines, which we used for the whole trip, was the most friendly, easy-going airline. They had really good food (vegetarian for me), and their vibe was casual but very efficient. We decided on the way back that we would use Turkish Air as our preferred flight service because not only did they offer a good fare (thanks to Paola and Sarah at KalTravel in Hillcrest for making the arrangements), but everything just worked. Tala got some great loot from them, as well. There were colouring books, a stuffed bear, a Rubik's cube, inflatable bath toys, and a digital watch.
It was admittedly exhausting, and I hate having swollen ankles, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been, and we also had the comfort of the Diners Club card lounge to take the edge off. That came in particularly handy when we had our return trip layover and needed somewhere to wait. Thanks, Mom and the friendly staff at the Diners lounge in Ataturk.
For the record, I did a bit of looking around while we were there, and could find no evident signs of damage from the bombings or attempted coup, in neither the physical state of the airport, nor in the general atmosphere of the place. I expected it to be a bit more tense, perhaps with armed guards and other security obviously present, but it was relaxed and almost festive instead.
The flood (Friday)
When we arrived at Luxembourg, Susanne was there. We played a quick game of tetris with our luggage and her car before hitting the road and driving to their place in Bissen, stopping off at Larochette to see the old castle there. We met the kitties, saw Susanne's artworks, which she modestly calls "beads" (I rolled my eyes when I realised the magnitude of that understatement!), and then set off for Nommern.
There, we stayed on the Thursday night with a couple of Scots and (if memory serves) some Belgians. On Friday morning, the bulk of the fighters arrived, and the traders began to set up their tents and stalls with a variety of medieval goods. We did some shopping and saw the big WW2 military museum in and the massive castle at Vianden.
When we returned, the parade for the medeival festival had already begun, and passed us as we parked at the hall. There was a large group of young men and women, dressed in medieval garb, with a few very pretty Haflinger ponies, and two strawberry roan Ardennaise draughts pulling a cart with more medieval folk.
Susanne, Tala and I made our way down to the field to see the progress the traders had made, and to see the horse show. It was a humidly warm afternoon, and when the first drops fell, no-one really paid any attention. We all carried on. Tala joined a herd of Luxemborgish (I think) children who played at swordfighting with sticks in the rain. The draught horses and the cart made it under the cover next to the main pavilion just as the storm got serious. So everyone crowded under some shelter.
Tala was in the main tent, waiting for the horse show and listening to the choir. I was in the cocktail tent, just because that was where I happened to end up. I found a Luxembourger and a couples of Scots there, too, and we had two innocent bystanders and their dog, looking more and more like they just wanted to go home.
Twenty minutes into the thick of the storm, the wind picked up properly, and started shaking the tent about, so we all got up and grabbed those parts of the structure that were threatening to fly away. Ten minutes after that, we realised that it wasn't a squall, and it was doing some damage to the tent. Water collected in pockets on the roof, which could have split the fabric if we hadn't pushed it off regularly. As it was, we saw a long rip in one place the next day.
The tent walls came loose from their fastenings and flapped rain everywhere, so we stacked haybales along the edge on which the wind was pushing. We carried on doing this until we had built up a decently-sized wall, and could focus on holding the actual hard structure down.
In the mean time, I had run across and brought Tala back with e. She was unimpressed with the rain, having expected rather to see some horses. She was soaking wet and cold, so I sat her in the middle of the tent with blankets and a haybale, and although she wasn't happy with the thunder and lightning and rain, she managed well enough.
We got hail. It was roughly the size of golf balls at some points, and the size of gobstoppers the rest of the time. The tent only leaked slightly, but the ground was soaked as the rain seeped across it in sheets.
I thought we might be there all night. I have experienced protracted storms like that at home, where I live, and the realisation that the big weather has set in for the night is always accompanied by a sinking feeling, for me at least.
But after a while, the rain lessened and slackened off enough to allow for movement.
Some of the traders' tents had collapsed, ruining their stock. Others had managed to some some things, fishing them out of the water as they floated past. The lady whose tent we had occupied was devastated, but grateful for our help. I found out later that the is named Chantal, and she is the aunt of one of the Luxembourg fighters.
When we finally decided that it was good to walk back to the hall, we discovered that a lot of the fields where the horses were kept were under water, and further up the road, a manhole cover hovered open as stormwater gushed out of it, into the street.
We took our shoes off at one point and waded down the road in knee-high water to where the hall was. I was told that the water was waist-high in other places in Nommern, and there was a neighbouring town where the cars were washed down the streets and into the fields below the town. basements and ground floor buildings were flooded.
Bronwen was sitting in the hall with some last minute sewing, when she noticed water streaming in through the doorway, so she and the other fighters who had arrived started rescuing the armour, packing it onto the camp beds which had been put out.
When we arrived back, they had already pushed the worst of it back out of the hall, but the whole floor was wet, and fighters mopped the floors with a mixture of emotions.
The word came in that the tournament was cancelled, and we shook our heads. How could it happen?
We also heard that people who had tried to leave could not get out. Laurent had been inspecting a bridge when it washed away in front of him, and other exiits from the town of Nommern were also under water.
One older resident told me the next day that it was the worst flood in Luxembourg in 300 years, although I didn't have the chance to verify the claim.
The firefighters arrived to make sure that we were all okay before moving on through the town, and it occurred to me that in a country with around 500 000 citizens, it might be easier for a leadership to inspire that kind of willingness to do one's duty, not as a reaction to callouts, but as a proactive exercise. Just to check on everyone in the town to see that no-one needed help.
They gave us blankets, and Bronwen and Jacob unpacked and set up the rest of the camp beds for the traders who were stuck with us for the night.
It became quite festive, and the stallholders who did the most brisk trade, even before the fair was due to begin, were those who sold mead.
The next post will cover the rest of the trip...
The packing
We had 30kg each for armour, weapons, garb and banners. We also managed to fit a couple of packs of biltong and some ciders into one of the armour bags. As it was, were riding low, and I was glad that Tala only had some clothes and no armour for herself.
We took over seven swords (two of our own and five for sale), two banners, two complete armours and some basic tools and clothes.
The journey (Wed/Thurs)
We travelled for 15 hours going there, and just about 24 hours coming back (we had a long layover in Istanbul). I think Turkish Airlines, which we used for the whole trip, was the most friendly, easy-going airline. They had really good food (vegetarian for me), and their vibe was casual but very efficient. We decided on the way back that we would use Turkish Air as our preferred flight service because not only did they offer a good fare (thanks to Paola and Sarah at KalTravel in Hillcrest for making the arrangements), but everything just worked. Tala got some great loot from them, as well. There were colouring books, a stuffed bear, a Rubik's cube, inflatable bath toys, and a digital watch.
It was admittedly exhausting, and I hate having swollen ankles, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been, and we also had the comfort of the Diners Club card lounge to take the edge off. That came in particularly handy when we had our return trip layover and needed somewhere to wait. Thanks, Mom and the friendly staff at the Diners lounge in Ataturk.
For the record, I did a bit of looking around while we were there, and could find no evident signs of damage from the bombings or attempted coup, in neither the physical state of the airport, nor in the general atmosphere of the place. I expected it to be a bit more tense, perhaps with armed guards and other security obviously present, but it was relaxed and almost festive instead.
The flood (Friday)
When we arrived at Luxembourg, Susanne was there. We played a quick game of tetris with our luggage and her car before hitting the road and driving to their place in Bissen, stopping off at Larochette to see the old castle there. We met the kitties, saw Susanne's artworks, which she modestly calls "beads" (I rolled my eyes when I realised the magnitude of that understatement!), and then set off for Nommern.
There, we stayed on the Thursday night with a couple of Scots and (if memory serves) some Belgians. On Friday morning, the bulk of the fighters arrived, and the traders began to set up their tents and stalls with a variety of medieval goods. We did some shopping and saw the big WW2 military museum in and the massive castle at Vianden.
When we returned, the parade for the medeival festival had already begun, and passed us as we parked at the hall. There was a large group of young men and women, dressed in medieval garb, with a few very pretty Haflinger ponies, and two strawberry roan Ardennaise draughts pulling a cart with more medieval folk.
Susanne, Tala and I made our way down to the field to see the progress the traders had made, and to see the horse show. It was a humidly warm afternoon, and when the first drops fell, no-one really paid any attention. We all carried on. Tala joined a herd of Luxemborgish (I think) children who played at swordfighting with sticks in the rain. The draught horses and the cart made it under the cover next to the main pavilion just as the storm got serious. So everyone crowded under some shelter.
Tala was in the main tent, waiting for the horse show and listening to the choir. I was in the cocktail tent, just because that was where I happened to end up. I found a Luxembourger and a couples of Scots there, too, and we had two innocent bystanders and their dog, looking more and more like they just wanted to go home.
Twenty minutes into the thick of the storm, the wind picked up properly, and started shaking the tent about, so we all got up and grabbed those parts of the structure that were threatening to fly away. Ten minutes after that, we realised that it wasn't a squall, and it was doing some damage to the tent. Water collected in pockets on the roof, which could have split the fabric if we hadn't pushed it off regularly. As it was, we saw a long rip in one place the next day.
The tent walls came loose from their fastenings and flapped rain everywhere, so we stacked haybales along the edge on which the wind was pushing. We carried on doing this until we had built up a decently-sized wall, and could focus on holding the actual hard structure down.
In the mean time, I had run across and brought Tala back with e. She was unimpressed with the rain, having expected rather to see some horses. She was soaking wet and cold, so I sat her in the middle of the tent with blankets and a haybale, and although she wasn't happy with the thunder and lightning and rain, she managed well enough.
We got hail. It was roughly the size of golf balls at some points, and the size of gobstoppers the rest of the time. The tent only leaked slightly, but the ground was soaked as the rain seeped across it in sheets.
I thought we might be there all night. I have experienced protracted storms like that at home, where I live, and the realisation that the big weather has set in for the night is always accompanied by a sinking feeling, for me at least.
But after a while, the rain lessened and slackened off enough to allow for movement.
Some of the traders' tents had collapsed, ruining their stock. Others had managed to some some things, fishing them out of the water as they floated past. The lady whose tent we had occupied was devastated, but grateful for our help. I found out later that the is named Chantal, and she is the aunt of one of the Luxembourg fighters.
When we finally decided that it was good to walk back to the hall, we discovered that a lot of the fields where the horses were kept were under water, and further up the road, a manhole cover hovered open as stormwater gushed out of it, into the street.
We took our shoes off at one point and waded down the road in knee-high water to where the hall was. I was told that the water was waist-high in other places in Nommern, and there was a neighbouring town where the cars were washed down the streets and into the fields below the town. basements and ground floor buildings were flooded.
Bronwen was sitting in the hall with some last minute sewing, when she noticed water streaming in through the doorway, so she and the other fighters who had arrived started rescuing the armour, packing it onto the camp beds which had been put out.
When we arrived back, they had already pushed the worst of it back out of the hall, but the whole floor was wet, and fighters mopped the floors with a mixture of emotions.
The word came in that the tournament was cancelled, and we shook our heads. How could it happen?
We also heard that people who had tried to leave could not get out. Laurent had been inspecting a bridge when it washed away in front of him, and other exiits from the town of Nommern were also under water.
One older resident told me the next day that it was the worst flood in Luxembourg in 300 years, although I didn't have the chance to verify the claim.
The firefighters arrived to make sure that we were all okay before moving on through the town, and it occurred to me that in a country with around 500 000 citizens, it might be easier for a leadership to inspire that kind of willingness to do one's duty, not as a reaction to callouts, but as a proactive exercise. Just to check on everyone in the town to see that no-one needed help.
They gave us blankets, and Bronwen and Jacob unpacked and set up the rest of the camp beds for the traders who were stuck with us for the night.
It became quite festive, and the stallholders who did the most brisk trade, even before the fair was due to begin, were those who sold mead.
The next post will cover the rest of the trip...
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