For sale at the Renaissance Faire: Ye olde funnel cakes and cheesecake on a stick.
The event is advertised as a chess match with actual people as chess pieces, going head to head on a grassy field. Only, it doesn't look like chess. There are some poorly choreographed sword fights and a guy who leaps into battle with a pair of rubber chickens. The people sitting behind us on the stands are speculating about the real-life occupation of each fighter. "That one's an insurance salesman," they say, "and that one's probably a secretary."
It's worth watching the artists and musical folks, the ones who make lovely clay bowls and wear a phantom-like mask as they play the organ.
Their menagerie contains ducks, pigeons, and a tortoise. Also a kookaburra, trapped in a mesh cage far from its native soil. Across the lane, a patient camel waits to take children on its back and plod with them around a field as their parents wave and snap photos from the side.
The maze is advertised as an Amazing Maze, but the only amazing thing about it is that we actually coughed up an extra couple of bucks to wander through its short, creaky corridors.
The first time he rides on a school bus, he's over 60. Some experiences are too good to pass up on in life.
It's a parade of dignified queens and saucy barmaids, warriors in eclectic armor and non-magical folk who wish they were wizards. Some have sprouted fairy wings; others have clapped aluminum swords to the waistband of their jeans. The ale on offer helps fuel their fantasies.