Two sceptics, one pair of elf ears, and the best (accidental) day at Loxwood Joust.
Sitting on the train from Victoria, my best friend Clara and I looked over at each other. We were both wearing a single elf ear, having shared one pair instead of thinking to bring two. Still, half an elf is better than no elf at all.
We were going, as a joke, to a Renaissance Faire in Oxfordshire – one of the hundreds of medieval festivals that pop up across the UK every summer.
We’d been talking about it for about a year: “oh, how funny would it be, could you possibly imagine?” Well, imagine I could. I sent Clara a link to a festival happening in August, only an hour away from London. Tickets were £30. We bought them.
I should add we weren’t just in elf ears, but in full Renaissance garb on the hottest day of the year. It was objectively terrible weather for medieval attire. As we went running for the train, our feet sweated in our leather boots, we tripped over floor-length skirts and pushed the long-sleeves of our tunic-shaped tops up our arms to dig the tickets out of our bags.
But this Renaissance Faire was, unironically, one of the best days of my life. Part of the humour of attending was the fact that we, slightly judgementally, thought it would be a bit weird, niche and maybe a bit awkward. I’m hugely into theatre and all things camp, so I don’t know why I didn’t think I’d fit in. Instead, the crowd was overwhelmingly young, social, fully dressed up and without a phone in sight. It was entirely outdoors and had no shortage of activities like welding, jousting and archery.
So, let’s get into it: what can you expect at the Renaissance Faire? I was specifically at the Loxwood Joust but I’m sure a good many Faires will have similar traits, and hopefully by the end you’ll be sufficiently enticed to spend that £30.
We walked into warlocks, knights and maidens galore. I have to say, I was slightly disappointed that quite a few Faire-goers were not in costume. Surely that’s the best bit? Not as much as a single elf ear? Shameful!
We entered through a forest where tables were set up with activities. Should the fancy take you, you could learn calligraphy or leather making. This is also where we picked up our first mead spritz. Similar to an Aperol spritz, this version uses one of the world’s oldest alcohols, which is created by fermenting honey with water. Drink in hand, I was ready to tackle the main section of the Faire.
Venturing on, we reached the clearing where the eagerly-awaited joust was about to take place. There were birds of prey and merchants offering goods and services such as swords, suits of armour, and portable cups made from animal horns, alongside other little trinkets. I stopped off here to buy a fan because I honestly didn’t think I could stand the heat much longer. We had already altered our outfits to shed some layers, tied tunics around bags, hitched up our long skirts and both of us had gone barefoot.
If you have any interest in sports, you won’t be at a loss for activities to do at the Renaissance Faire. You could try your hand at archery – or better yet, crossbow. If you are feeling brave, you could even learn how to wield a sword. There were jesters, a plague doctor and a man wheeling around a child in a cart labelled ‘for sale’ – hopefully in jest. There was also a full-blown medieval banquet for an additional cost.
What we didn’t realise at the time, and later kicked ourselves for, was that there were numerous quests we could have completed to win medals and eventually meet the Queen of Loxwood. All around were hidden riddles, witches, ghouls and posters you had to find by following clues. Missing this cemented our decision to return next year.
A personal highlight was walking past a pen filled with men and women in full suits of armour – like, the whole shebang. Some of these men were about 6’6”, each of them with an axe in hand. The aim of the game they were playing was essentially to hit each other on the head as hard as possible and knock their opponents to the floor. This took place in the main arena and continued until only one person was left standing. It was brutal. I’ve never seen anything like it – full suits of armour, axes to faces. I appreciated the gender equality here, with men and women pitted against each other, but I wouldn’t have fancied my chances against Mr 6’6”.
Then on to the main event: the joust. Like most modern people, I had never been to a joust before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. My boring side questioned the health and safety breaches that two people hitting each other off horseback would entail. It turns out they have a storyline that integrates with the quests. The ruling champions of Loxwood (played by a number of talented actors) were made to battle against two intruders, eventually winning the hand of the Queen.
We were both wildly invested; up in arms, cheering, swearing, fully committed. The skill of the joust and the actor’s performances were honestly impressive. The characters were all incredibly dishy too, like they’d walked straight out of a Hollywood set. We couldn’t believe how much fun we were having.
So, I was a sceptic – sue me! People can change. If Loxwood sells you on the idea, in July, the Tewkesbury Medieval Festival recreates the 1471 Battle of Tewkesbury in what’s now one of the largest medieval gatherings in Europe, complete with mass battle re-enactments and hundreds of costumed participants. Later in the season, Warwick Castle’s Medieval Festival brings jousting, falconry displays and staged combat into the dramatic setting of the castle grounds, while Kentwell Hall’s Tudor weekends offer a slightly different kind of immersion, with hundreds of historical interpreters living and working as if it were the 16th century.
On the way home we looked at each other again – sweaty, exhausted, slightly feral – and without saying anything, we both knew we’d be back. Next time, we’ll show up with proper footwear, more water to soak up the mead and a detailed quest strategy.
And definitely two sets of elf ears.