Can’t wait to read about (and see, hopefully) your Viking food!
Here’s a Viking story for you: we’d just arrived in the UK in October. After finding a house, buying a car, and settling in, we were excited to start exploring things.
Pre-internet days, so I don’t remember how, but we learned about this big Viking festival in York, the Jorvik Viking Festival. We were so excited, we took the day off for the opening (I’m fairly sure it opened on a weekday, like a Friday, hence taking the day off).
We were in the extreme south end of Northamptonshire, so it was a bit of a haul over to York, but we got a good early start.
Bouncing along A (and some B) roads, because we were too stupid to take the direct route (“We want to see the countryside!”), we finally arrived, and it was freezing cold and spitting snow.
We drove to where the opening ceremonies were to be, along the river…nothing. Just a normal workday, with people milling about.
We walked up and down along the riverside, was just about to find the tourist information center…er centre to ask, when way off, we heard a distant shout.
We looked…and looked some more…and sure enough, we spied a low boat-like thing, hull sticking way up, and three or four strangely-dressed beardy fellows rowing away unenthusiastically. It was barely creeping forward.
Finally…finally…it reached a landing point, near where we were standing, and sure enough, here were our “vikings” - if one was under 60yo, it was hard to tell.
There were a couple of lazy shouts…”Rarrr…rarrr…we’ve come to raid ya and all that sort of thing…,” and they climbed out, tied off the boat…and walked off down the street to get something to eat at a cafe, wooly shirts, clanking helmets and all.
That was it! 3+ hour drive, freezing our bits off, bitten by the snow, all to see the four laziest Vikings ever.
