Medival Times

A number of years ago we decided a weekend away in Toronto would be the perfect family getaway. We got a suite in heart downtown and pulled out all the stops. Dinner at fancy restaurants, shopping, swimming, with the crown jewel of the trip being an evening at Medieval Times. I am sure that most of you have at least heard of this event, but for those who haven’t, it is an evening that takes place in the 15th century Spain. We, as Lords of the Realm, eat a meal (without any utensils) and watch as our favorite knights at first perform games while atop their steads and then as the story progresses an ultimate battle of jousting and swordplay. It was jaw dropping, eye-popping, slam on your butt stunning and that was just how I reacted when the ticket teller told me how much the admission was for 5 adults. We paid what in real terms equaled our car payment for that month and made our way into one other lineup. There seemed to be lineups for everything. As we shuffled forward, we were assigned which knight we would be cheering for, ours, it turned out was the Red Knight. We all had a cape draped over us, a goofy hat placed on our heads and a picture was snapped standing beside the Queen.(felt strangely like I was graduating again). It was there when my picture was taken with the comely Queen that she turned and addressed me as, “m’lord”. I smiled over at my wife who simply wore an expression on her face that said, “Don’t get used to it”. Before I knew it, the cape whisked off and I was propelled in to the antechamber, where we encountered more lineups. It was good to see that their attention to accuracy and detail was well illustrated with 15th century Spain having draught beer. However, the kids were more thankful that 15th century Spain had Cherry Pepsi.

We were all led into the dining hall and arena area. It was quite the sight, smoke drifting over the floor and lights flashing and music blaring. As we settled in for the show we were introduced to our Serf and Wench and we were told to treat them as our slaves for the evening. I especially enjoyed booming out a, “Wench!! More ale!!” Glancing at my wife, I discovered that same don’t-get-used-to-it expression on her face. Turning to her Serf, she said somewhat sultry, “Slave, bring me my wine.” He blubbered something and ran off to grant ‘m’lady’ her wish. I tried the same look she gave me but she trumped that with a “I could get used to this” expression.

Food was dropped of at our bench as we listened to the introductions of the knights, and we were encouraged to cheer them loudly and often. Our main dish of ribs and half a chicken were presented and all of us tore into it with hands pulling and teeth gnashing. It is quite difficult to cheer on command when you have a mouthful of food. Looking at my son, he did look the part with a drumstick in one hand and a rib in the other, his face smeared with food as he cheered madly for our knight as he raced around the arena on his agile Arabian. Unfortunately, our son eats that way at any regular restaurant. I won’t go into the whole story but it was really an event an incredible night of adventure.

We had heard earlier in the day that among the seven other Medieval Times throughout North America at least one person dies as a result of the show. I just assume they are talking about the knights and not the heart attack victims at the ticket booths. The sparks really do fly as the metal meets metal, one miscalculation and you can easily see how people could get hurt. But as with everything, the evening had to end at some time. Alas, our knight didn’t make it all the way through, he was stab through the stomach and was eliminated in the rounds of competition. It was the other one who made it through the knight (sorry, I couldn’t help myself).

On the drive home one of our daughters thought it would be great to have a Medieval Times in Kingston, unfortunately all this did was bring up talk of consumer base and how our urban demographics would not lend itself to supporting such a tourist blah, blah, blah. Can you imagine how long a two and a half hour drive can be when talking urban geography? Here I was stuck in the middle and I was the one who opted out of high school geography and took Latin instead. It was finally resolved that if we utilized only one knight and instead of a plush arena, we would use the downtown core. We could just arm one of our “local colorful characters” from downtown, give them an empty gift wrapping tube left over from Christmas. Hail him, Sir Wackalot (please don’t take that the wrong way) and let him loose downtown. It may not be the real thing, but it sure would be a lot of fun to watch from a sidewalk patio.