Chain mail bikinis, men in tights, leather armor, blades of all types, corsets, faerie wings and myriad other costumes greet thee at the Faire. You enter the gates and leave everything behind. To your left is the king with his queen, wishing all a good day.
Instantly, you are buffeted by vendors of all things from programs to garlands to small wooden blades for young knights and knaves. The smell of turkey legs and corn on the cob fills the air, mingling with the pine surrounding the area.
There is much to be seen and many by whom to be seen. Games of chance and skill await you in the Sherwood Forest portion of the Faire.
There is no single thing to go see: the Faire is a living thing, week to week it changes, and you’re sure to be amazed at the sheer variety of people involved.
Various shops surround you, selling all manner of goods – and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. In addition to beer, they serve wine and mead, a wine made of berries and fruits – its whose identifying characteristic is the use of honey in the brew.
The aforementioned turkey legs are a staple of the Texas Renaissance Festival – slow-smoked and crispy on the outside, juicy within. The corn on the cob is sweet and wonderful with lemon pepper and butter.
Once you’ve finally settled into the atmosphere, feel free to take in the crowd (most of whom are in costume – kilts are a favorite, as are enormous swords) or see a show.
"Cast in Bronze," found in Sherwood Forest, involves a masked music-maker playing a colossal contraption of bells and iron framework. The bell clappers are moved by levers and pulleys and produce a wonderful volume of sound. There are loudspeakers, but only for the accompaniment.
The most amazing part of the show is the amount of practice apparent in the playing of the bells. The mystery figure rarely looks at his work and is usually blinking from behind a winged mask. Be sure to stay for "Carol of the Bells," which was written specifically for bells of this size.
"Tartanic" is also an outstanding act – sweaty guys in kilts playing bagpipes and banging on drums actually draw small crowds wherever they roam, and as a circle forms they stop and dance while playing. They also take the stage for the fireworks show at dusk, playing in time to the spectacle being given behind the arena.
If you can’t make it until dusk, at least see the joust during the day. Also at the arena, this performance is full of energy and crowd-pleasing excitement. Four knights catch thrown rings on their lances in a contest of skill followed by the actual joust. Two men in armor ride into battle for the queen’s delight, shattering lances against shields and breastplates.
Shopping at the Faire is not to be taken lightly – I spent well over $250 in two weekends. If you take a fair maiden, prepare your wallet well.
If you are the fair maiden, you will be a very happy maiden indeed. Small circlets of flowers are sold by roving street vendors and gorgeous outfits are to be found in all varieties: belly dancing garb, gypsy rags, princely robes, kilts and leather all feature prominently. There are drums and blades, helms and boots, flasks and drinking horns.
If you are stout of heart (and of liver), try camping for the Friday night prior and the intervening Saturday night. Bonfires and liquor make an interesting combination, and the crowd can be fairly rowdy. Fire-eaters dance to the sound of drum circles and the chiming bells of a belly dancer or two round out a nice evening. Bring a tent and a shade structure – you need them to stake your grounds. Flags and banners are everywhere, proclaiming allegiances and giving warnings.
Seven hours of Renaissance and medieval living might seem like a lot, but you’ll go back for more – I give thee my word.