Rain is good for being a tourist. The fair weather folk stay home and you have practically the entire place — and the attention of all the staff — to yourself. At least, this has been our experience, more than once. Most recently, last Sunday, when we drove up past Carnation, Washington to the medieval reenactment village of Camlann.
Set in approximately the last year of Edward III’s 50-year reign in England, there are a few buildings and many craftspeople and others to help interpret the way things were. Absent the plague, of course, and the ravages of war…
Here are a few shots of our family, enjoying market day in the middle ages!
We entered through the town gate…
And, doffing our mundane, modern wear, outfitted ourselves appropriately.  Here is one young squire, Master G of Griffinshire.
We proceeded apace to the finest Inn of the village to enjoy a musical moment by the most renowned Sub Tilia. Afterward, the minstrels allowed us to examine and, yea!, even play a bit, having left our own instruments at home.
And a lesson on the Uillean pipes, more complicated than they appear!
At the feast, a young hunter and his cohort wandered in…
The murals in this hall were of the finest quality, as you can see. Any feast-goer would be much entertained by the adornments alone — and the feast would be enhanced by the presence of so many goodly sights.
Wandering off, we saw a magician, Master Payne:
From the other direction, you can see the boys enjoying the show and the buildings behind.
And then they were off to the lists, to view the play Sir Orfeo and enjoy a lesson in swordplay.
As we were listening to music again, Stidkid#2 thought about Life in the Middle Ages…
And then it was time to go. Time to leave, and to remember… the chandler surrounded by children and adults enjoying the warmth of the fire under her cauldron; the fletcher who spent time explaining to a simple woman the intricacies of arrow-making, the difference in the size and shape of arrowheads, and the many things that affect an arrow’s flight; the cidermaker with the huge wheel to crush the apples and the ingenious screw-driven lever to press the juice; the young noblewoman whose archery was finer than many grown men; the lovely pasties the serving woman sold in the square; the players and musicians sharing the love of the arts; the toymaker ; the scribe, whose lovely art decorated the walls of her shop.
All these people, living, teaching — and still learning — between two worlds 700 years apart. They — and their descendents survived the plagues and wars of their time with relative good humor and plenty of enjoyment.  So can, and so will, we.