“Merriment At The Medieval Faire”

FROM THE GEAUGA COUNTY MAPLE LEAF

c. 2006 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(7-06)




One of the great benefits of living in Geauga is our proximity to other interesting venues across The Northcoast. With a metropolitan neighbor like Cleveland situated nearby, we are able to enjoy many colorful attractions, easily. In the opposite geographical direction, one may travel east to discover a wealth of off-the-beaten-path destinations. Most notable in summer months is The Great Lakes Medieval Faire. Until recently, I had not visited this unusual celebration. But encouragement from a friend changed my weekend plans. A search on the Internet revealed pertinent details about this unique happening:

“Come Live the Legend! Weekends July 8th through to August 13th, 2006. We're open 10am - 7pm, rain or shine! The Great Lakes Medieval Faire is a shaded, 13th century family fun theme park filled with fine continuous entertainment, juried crafts and artisans, rides and interactive games, and foods fit for a King. Step back in time to an age of romance and chivalry, where brave knights battle on the open jousting field for the favor of the Queen, fair damsels, and the roaring crowd! Experience the variety of entertainment: marvel at magicians and fire-eaters, gasp with dynamic swordplay, and guffaw at marvelous jesters. Enjoy succulent period delicacies, washed down with ice-cold ale or fresh lemonade. And between shows, browse through one of Ohio's largest open-air juried Artisan and Craft markets, displaying hand-made crafts such as jewelery, leather goods, and clothing from across North America. Our village marketplace boasts over 100 of the country's finest artisans and craftfolks as they create and sell their wares - jewelry, customing, candles, clothing, baskets, boots, silks, swords, toys, pottery, stained glass, trinkets, and more! The Great Lakes Medieval Faire is located 7 miles South of I-90 on State Route 534.”


Our voyage to The Realm of Avaloch transpired in mid-July. It was an experience well worth examining in print. The saga begins on a wet, Sunday afternoon …

* * * * * * * * *

Entering the Faire was undeniably strange. I felt as if we had embarked on a time-warp adventure. All around, there were signs of yonder days. A troupe of performers played bagpipes and traditional drums. Mystic ladies read Tarot Cards. The Pickle Queen sold her delicacies from an emerald throne. Human-powered carnival rides thrilled the children. Fairies and Knights were everywhere.
Eventually, we were approached by a tall fellow in a black overshirt, leggings, and leather boots. With one hand on the butt of his sword, he bowed carefully. His gray hair spilled in a gentle arc, catching the sunlight. “Good day to you, gentle people! I am Squire Ffolkes. Where do ye hail from?”
My friend giggled. “Good day! I am Maid Lizabeth. A purveyor of pink.”
I bowed in response to the Squire. “Good day, friend. I am Rodney, Lord of… uhmm…The Park of Trailers!”
He was puzzled. “Trailers? What manner of living is this? You talk in riddles!”
I tried to sound convincing. “In this place, the homes may move from one spot to another! Simply when we wish it to be so!”
The Squire laughed out loud. “You are not a Lord, sir! You must be a sorcerer to make such things happen! Tis magic of which you speak!”
Liz interrupted. “He jests with you, kind sir. Rodney not a Lord. He is a scribe – one who writes on parchment for a living.” She prodded me with an elbow.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed. “Tis true, I am not a Lord. But in my village, we gather to watch chariot races, while feasting on rinds of pork, and fine sausages, imported from Vienna…”
This time, Liz was not so gentle. I felt a kick to my ankle! Then, she shouted with irritation. “I pray thee… hold thy tongue!”
My observations continued. “And I ride a wheeled horse, proudly, on The King’s Road…”
She stamped her foot on mine. “Hold, I command you! Hold!!”
Ffolkes was amused. “Ho, ho, now I see! You meant to entertain me with this story of magic houses and different customs. Well done, Master Rodney!”
“Forgive my foolish tale,” I said, limping with embarrassment.
Liz smoothed her layered gown. “So… ahem! Will you bid us welcome to this fine encampment?”
“We have traveled from Geauga, a district not far in miles from this wood,” I continued. “Our hope is to find refreshment. And merriment!”
Squire Ffolkes gestured with his hand. “Indeed! Be ye welcome here!” He turned toward an exhibit of olden music. “Bard Nathan! Play for our guests from Geauga! Play for them, now!”
A scruffy minstrel appeared, toting his plectrum cheerfully. He looked careworn, in a suit of burlap rags. Yet his voice was strong and clear. After a chug of ale, he tipped his cap, and began to sing:

“Ohhhhhh…Sailor Sam was a burly man,
But Lucy was his match,
He looked her over with a grin,
And said ‘You’re quite a catch!’
But Lucy wanted none of him,
She did not like the sea,
And when he kissed this fairest miss,
She slapped him on the cheek!

Sooo… Drink till dawn, be merry,
Dee-Di, Dee-Di, Dee-Oh,
Give up the fight,
And grab a pint,
This pub’s become your home!

Ohhhhhh… Miss Wendy was so pretty,
She made the lads go red,
But none of them could get her hand,
She long refused to wed,
But when she met The Vintner,
It seems she changed her mind,
She married quick, her manly pick,
And grew fat on his wine!

Sooo… Drink till dawn, be merry!
Dee-Di, Dee-Di, Dee-Oh,
Give up the fight,
And grab a pint,
This pub’s become your home!

Ohhhhhh… Nigel was a soldier,
Who conquered foreign lands,
But what he sought, could not be bought,
By marching with the band,
He loved a lass from Edinburgh,
They call her Lonely Lill,
But she depends on all his friends,
To keep the glasses filled!


Sooo… Drink till dawn, be merry!
Dee-Di Dee-Di Dee-Oh.
Give up the fight,
And grab a pint,
This pub’s… become… YOUR HOME!!”

After the Bard finished his tune, a jousting match commenced. It was a grand display of living history. A throng of revelers soon gathered to watch. The performance was amazingly realistic. I marveled at the violent impact of their poles. Each blow seemed certain to knock a rider out of his saddle! But, it didn’t happen. Could the armor they wore really be so sturdy? I pondered silently as the game concluded.
Our day of yore ended with a treat of Irish Guinness. As the sun grew lower over our heads, we vowed to return. Our escape from the 21st Century had been memorable. Now, it was time to rejoin the mainstream of current humanity!

RDI

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