Dressed to Kill

Last weekend, Schatz and I went to Oerlinghausen near Bielefeld, for a Viking weekend in their Archaeological Open Air Museum. It is a fairly small place, compared to what we know from Denmark, for example, but it takes you from a summer camp of ice age reindeer hunters via a stone age and a bronze age farm building all the way to an early medieval (Saxon) homestead. In addition, there are a number of buildings focusing on various aspects of daily life, such as a bake house, a brewing house, or a pottery. Mainly, visitors find period items in the buildings, and also some explanatory exhibits. In addition, the museum offers quite some workshops on things such as smithing, bow making, stone age bread baking, dyeing with plants, etc.

Last weekend, though, the museum was populated by Vikings, Saxons, Slavs, Merovingians, Ottonians, i.e. representatives of various parts of Europe from about 600 to 1050 AD. People showed crafts, there was a show kitchen informing the audience about period cooking with seasonal ingredients, there was an archery exhibit, some warriors explained early medieval weapons, armoury and warcraft, as well a small period fashion show.

The weather was good, the audience in good numbers despite a 'competing' town party - and as usual, I didn't really get to take any pictures. For those, I would like to refer you to blog entries by Kees and Marion, as well as Marion's Flickr pages.

Schatz had been working on a needle case during the weekend, which was snatched out of his hands by a greedy re-enactress almost before it was finished. Such early medieval needle cases made from bird wing bones (usually goose or swan) have been found all over Scandinavia.

needle box from upper goose wing bone

In this particular model, a piece of fabric inside the bone holds the needles. To get to them, you pull it out of the bottom of the needle case. It is typically hung from a woman's brooches or her belt.

Woman's coat based on Haithabu finds

Ute had just finished her new 2-layer coat based on finds from Haithabu. Most interesting and looking very warm indeed!

Last but not least, the garden of an Oerlinghausen local which has captivated my attention for many years.

backyard railway signal

I'm not sure whether the train ever stops here... but then maybe it's to regulate the slide traffic.

Laurel and Hardy wisely deciding NOT to climb the mountain

This actually is from the same garden. I guess it's better than having it all inside the living room...

Supermarket Daze

Have you ever felt dazzled by a sign? I mean really overwhelmed by the powerful, mind-boggling concept it conveyed? Well, it happened to Schatz and me last Saturday, as we were about to do our weekend shopping.

Seeds for Children just € 2.49 a bucket!

Seeds for Children. And they are even available in two varieties, as flowers or as sprouts! Sometimes you wonder about the geniuses behind such scientific achievements!

One bucket just left of the sign even says it quite unambiguously , this is 'Kindersaatgut' or 'children seeds'. Like carrot seeds or parsley seeds or sunflower seeds. Only for children.

Unfortunately, the buckets are not see-through and so, short of buying one, I can only resort to guesswork about the nature of these seeds. Are they small like koriander seeds or rather more like beans? Or maybe they're even bigger, like winegum bears, just maybe shaped like babies? Or maybe they're sorted into little bags, one for boys, one for girls?

We put various such theories to some friends at a brunch on Sunday but so far noone else has seen these mysterious buckets, let alone opened one and sown some children, and most certainly noone has ever harvested this produce.

So quite a few questions remain open: are these perennial children or for one season only? Do they come in different sizes, i.e. from bonzai to gigantic, like trees? What exactly is the difference between kids grown in bulbs or as sprouts? Do they prefer direct sun or shade, and can you grow them inside on your window sill?

Still rolling all these thoughts around in our minds, we entered a neighbouring discounter, where we suddenly faced a long row of red and green cartons.

Do they know it's still almost 4 months till Christmas?

We really wanted to scream and shout and throw bags of flour through the aisles but we decided to behave and just mutter words of unbelief. And return for a photograph...

Once upon a time, people started baking cookies and Christmas puddings and making Christmas confectionary as late as December. Then in November. About 10 years ago they started selling the stuff in October.

And now, for a couple of years, they have been trying to flog it as early as September. By the time it's Christmas, there will be hardly anything left and customers will long for strawberries...

Not us. None of that for us before the 4th Sunday before Christmas (1st Advent Sunday in Germany) or December 1st, whichever comes first.

But even that is still two and a half months away. Eleven long weeks to look at high-calory, high-sugar, low-fibre Christmas munchies when you really want to see broccoli, zucchini, bell peppers, cucumbers, mushrooms, fish - and maybe some pasta, cheese and wine....

But maybe the good news is that in a few years time they will start selling Christmas sweets on Easter Tuesday, and noone will get fat at Christmas anymore...

Up-nosed and wet in Alphen aan den Rijn

The first weekend in September traditionally marks a major Viking market in Archeon, an archaeological theme park in Alphen a/d Rijn, about 45 minutes from Amsterdam. And after not being able to participate for a couple of years, Schatz and I had decided we'd really have to make it this year.

Easier said than done, as we found out. First I came down with a bad headcold a few days before but then Schatz caught some of the same, too, and so we decided to not go a day early as we had originally planned. But hey, what is a sore throat and some major coughing when you're a hardy Viking! Besides, there are pills and syrups and warm socks and shawls...

And so we packed my trusty longship...

Chests, boxes, pillows, furs, cowhides, tent, blankets - almost ready to go

It's a good thing we bought a roof box some years ago, at least we now fit everything into the car and still are able to use the rear view mirror. If we don't also take the cooking gear, that is.

We are quite experienced these days as far as packing goes but carrying everything downstairs and packing the lot still takes more time than we would like. No pain, no gain - as they say.

By the time we hit the motorway north of Hamburg, it was after 2 pm. Still no reason to worry, the weather was good and maybe the weather forecast for Archeon, according to which it started raining there just about this time, was inaccurate. Wishful thinking!

A few minutes later, we half-heartedly listened to the traffic warnings on the radio. 20 km traffic jam somewhere on the A1 near Bremen. Arrrgh! But wait, maybe it was not on 'our side' but in the other direction. The next traffic alert, 15 minutes later, told us otherwise. Although it was 'stop and go' now and only 15 km...

Schatz started checking the maps for possible detours. There was a secondary road parallel to the Autobahn but we all know what happens when traffic jams - everybody takes the detour and that is jammed, too.

So we watched the trucks. They are usually pretty well informed... but not this time. They trucked on, and so did we, and a few kilometers later, traffic jammed. It was stop and go, and then stop and go, and then it stopped again. And, of course, it unjammed a few kilometers before the next offramp, so we got our hopes up again, and then a few minutes later it jammed up again. Of course.

About an hour later than we should have, we reached an Autobahn junction near Bremen. And here we found what we think was the reason for this traffic jam: traffic arrives in two lanes, then a third lane is opened on the left. So far so good. But for construction purposes, the right lane then is closed about 1 km later. I think you can guess what happens... people race to the front, then hit the brakes to get back in line. And this is passed to the back. The odd accident and overheated engine do not help. Sometimes I do wonder about the organizational skills of traffic regulators! Just a little, mind you.

In the meantime, though, we had time to admire the landscape (flat, green, cows) and our co-jammers. One of the trucks looked a bit out of place, though.

Keep on truckin'

Coming up behind it, the truck's cab reminded me of US highways, and lo and behold, it was indeed a US truck. I wonder whether they're allowed to blow US truck horns in Europe...

Once the interesting part was over, i.e. shortly after running free from the traffic jam, we changed drivers. Which gave me the opportunity to try my hand at some pictures - most of which didn't turn out too well until I used the GIMP's artistic improvement features.

Schatz, looking decent again with short hair
(according to his aunt)

By the time we reached Archeon, it was getting dark. Partly because it was way past 20h, and partly because big bad black clouds were pulling in. At the gate, we found out where we were supposed to pitch our tent - but when we got there, the only spot left was so muddy that nobody would even walk across.

Back to Martin, the organiser. On the way, we saw a spot where our tent would fit and the people already 'living' there were okay with it but we still wanted to make sure Martin hadn't planned to put someone else there.

SIGH. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be nice and decent and considerate: by the time we got back from Martin and turned the car and were about to start to set up the tent, it started to rain. Really Rain. And it got darker. No wonder, it was close to 21h by now. What to do? Maybe the rain would stop in 15 minutes time and we could pitch the tent without getting soaked? What if the rain went on, or even got worse? Then it would be even darker...

We went for the sure thing and put the tent up in the pouring rain. My trusty Astra stationwagon's lights lit the ground for us, and at least the rain was not too cold. By the time the tent was up, the ground sheet held a few gallons of water and so did our clothes. What the heck, we pulled the groundsheet out again, shook the water off and started to build our bed of sheep skins.

Around that time, the rain stopped. I still believe that if we had waited with pitching the tent, it would have kept raining for hours... pssst - don't you dare to tell me otherwise!

It was really dark now and with our neighbour's van gone, I thought I'd move my car to use my front lights better. Uh oh. The sounds my poor little diesel engine made when I tried to get it started... it seemed that the battery held enough power to provide us with some light - but not enough to start the engine! I guess 5 years of good use take their toll on those things.

To make a long story (okay, it only took 45 minutes but it felt like hours) short: we got everything into the tent, our neighbours helped us jumpstart the car, we pulled down the front flap without completely closing the tent, put on our dry Viking clothes, had a quick drink, coughed and sneezed some, and fell asleep.

Night view from a wet tent with fancy knotwork

The next two days were filled with showing crafts to the visitors, meeting with friends and acquaintances, not having enough time to talk to everyone or seeing everything. And rain. Always rain. (I guess we used up all the good weather in May, June and July...)

But hey, who cares about rain when you have a good rainproof tent and some sideflaps that will protect you even from sideways rain! We were even able to offer a little hospitality to Danny and Marion who sat with us both days. Thank you both for your very pleasant company! And for watching the tent when Schatz and I went for a little stroll on Sunday.

Marion and Danny hard at work: needlebinding

Like always, taking pictures is the last thing you get around to when you're dressed in period clothes and basically busy explaining and demonstrating. I guess that is one of the main reasons why I have come to like going to events incognito from time to time...

But we got around to taking a few more in our cozy little tent.

Lady Marion of York - hiding in our tent from some evil Sheriff

Lady Danny, aka Sews with Wolves

The pictures are taken with a small digital camera - and as practical as it is for reasons of size and being able to hide it in a historical setting, the quality of the images leaves much to be desired. Still, with a bit of goodwill, you are able to see the rain behind Danny in the above photograph. It was raining 'strings', as they say in German... which is just the stage before raining 'blares'...

A typical Schatz picture:
Danny 'up-nosed' and I wet and miserable and not in the mood for pictures.
Our motto: Nous Maintiendrons!

When the market drew to a close at 17h on Sunday, we packed as quickly as we could and - yes, really! - we got our things into the car as dry as could be after a day filled with rain. And around 2h the next morning, we had even managed to drive all the way back to Northern Germany and unpack most of our stuff, as well.

Conclusion: a good market, good people, good company, good visitors, good organisation by Martin and Rona, a good feast on Saturday night - we will be back.