by Clare, a first timer
Just thought it would be nice to put stylus to tablet, to tell all of you potential joinees just what a first Vicus event is like. I first met Ash, Madoc and the Vicus at Chester in June. At this point I was a MOP (member of the public) and was fascinated by the stuff they were doing - though I must admit it was the weapons which really drew me. I had a long chat with Ash and decided I would join 'Ash's Army of fighting warrior women'.
I have always been interested the Roman era and this was going to allow me the chance to indulge that fantasy, authentically of course. As they do Iron Age too, I decided to be schizophrenic - both gladiatrix and Iron Age fighting woman. I was duly signed into the private members forum and was told that the next event was Ivybridge, Devon.
Hmm…. What kit to get first of all? I found a good material shop and got some pure wool for a cloak and then hotfooted it to Ikea for the natural pure linen (only £3.50/metre). I then did a bit of trading with Ash - some wool for a cloak in swap for a leather bag - Madoc would make me a shield for the day and Ash would sort out a belt and some shoes. I went on the Net and got 2 dragon brooches to pin my tunic and a penannular brooch for my cloak. The rest of my stuff I could borrow until I got my own.
Ticking off the days, I arrived on the campsite at about five on the Wednesday and set up tent next to Brutus (Tim) and his lovely family (his youngest is about 2 so we cater for all ages! - though she isn't allowed a spear yet ;o) That evening I was introduced to the Vicus camp fire. What a lovely time I had round the flickering flames - we sat in the firelight, drank beer and chatted until the wee small hours, just as they would have done two thousand years ago. I felt time slowing down, the rat-race becoming just a dream, reality was here with a great set of friends, the woodsmoke and the fragrant, dewy grass.
On my way back later to my tent, I looked up at the sky and saw a myriad of stars, far more than I see at home because of the light pollution. The Plough was sitting low on the horizon - I had never seen it before and the Milky Way ran its cloudy pale band across the sky. I felt more in touch with nature than I had ever been. So this was what it was like to be a Briton………
The next two days were spent making kit - shoes and belt, painting my shield, sewing my tunic, a reccy out to Paignton to find some palm leaves for the victorious gladiators on Saturday and Sunday. Oh and very importantly spear training with Madoc and Jamie (watch him he is sinster - Latin for left handed)
Each night there were more round the campfire as more turned up during the day. Beer and wine flowed, friendships were made and reforged from the last meet. Saturday dawned, the day of the show. We had to rally at half eight in kit - at last a chance to be an Iron Age woman.
I donned my linen tunic, belt and my lovely lovely leather shoes. The grass was wet and so they too got wet and began to mould around my feet - the weather was glorious, I felt free and happy and very comfortable in all my natural materials. I headed for Vince's campfire and a cup of tea! Tink (our chairman) then talked us through the running order for the day - some of the guys (and one gal) are Romans as the Group do Roman as well as Iron Age. This allows us to do battles between the two.
Lorraine was to be Boudicca and us Britons were to be thrown into the Arena by the centurions, ready to face a Roman battle line. OH YES this is what I had come for. I tell you there is nothing like charging towards a drawn up line of fully armed Roman soldiers (my God they look good), screaming, spear pointed right at them! We clashed and fought according to the Groups rules (if the opponent touches you between shoulder and knee and above the elbow then you are dead). This allowed for some really exciting free fighting, while Tink on the microphone did the commentary. Once most of the Brits had been despatched, Boudicca was led off in under guard to get kitted up for single combat later as a gladiatrix.
The rest of us went back to the authentic tented camp which is the Vicus (meaning village - these villages tended to spring up around the Roman forts and consisted of locals trading their wares, wives and sweethearts of the soldiers - you get the picture!) Here we joined the non fighters, such as Penny and Bryony, our Roman ladies, Louise, Dai the blacksmith, the Wyre family, Syreeta and her tablet weaving…. I sat by the campfire again and did more sewing (in modern life I HATE sewing with a vengeance and yet in the Vicus setting I love it - strange but true!) Members of the public wandered around camp asking questions, being shown how to do crafts, admiring the armour on show.
Then it was time for the Gladiators. Tink lent us some really authentic kit and so the pairs who were fighting had authentic weapons and armour - a retiarius (Lorraine as Boudicca so I guess she would be called a retiaria), a secutor (nicknamed Mr Blobby - you will see why when you see the helmet!) and various others. Blood bags provided the gore when throats were slit and our brave lads and lasses gave a great show. ( I am hoping to be one next time)
Once the show was over, we went back to camp again and soon the public left. Ah now that is the time things really come alive. A ceilidh was held in the beer tent in the evening - great fun had by one and all and then it was back to the campfire for a last evening together - songs, stories and the ever present beer and wine. Sunday was more of the same and the day went far too quickly. The public went home and I felt very deflated. Everyone was milling around not wanting to go. In the end a load of us decided to stay one last night, not wanting it all to end. No one had been in modern clothes since Saturday morning and no one had changed even now. So once again we sat in the timeless firelight and drank in the companionship which had been forged.
I am going to leave it there as I don't want to move from that image It will be replayed each time we meet May that be soon Thank you for reading my diary and I hope I will meet you too by the fire
Clare