Once a Viking

Once a year men and women of Viking descent and lots who would like to be of Viking descent arrive in Sheringham in order to act out their history or their dreams for a day. I am told that among the residents of most seaside town the prevalence of Viking blood (check your own DNA before laughing) is remarkably high.

Certainly those who appear for “Viking Days” seem to have the physique and this year the stamina in poor weather conditions, to at least make a claim that they are tough, hardy men and women.

I must have arrived on site around lunch time because there was a good deal of eating going on – some of that eating was of appropriate food, others were having a quiet gorge round the back of the tent on locally cooked fish and chips.

Nevertheless, despite the fairly constant rain, all those taking part seemed to be of good heart. One or two smile as I brandished the camera and I had to remind them that real Vikings were not supposed to smile – very out of character – especially as far as Christians were concerned. However as I had no hidden gold or silver I was allowed to go on my way unmolested.

There was a bit of tactics practice going on and a fairly comprehensive training routine on how one should attack the heathen British.

In the evening there was a procession and the burning of a Viking longship. More after the style of Up Helly aa and “what we did on our holiday” (if you have seen the film) than an everyday occurrence.

It’s probably one of those wonderful myths – “How did the Vikings dispose of the dead?” – answer they burned their bodies in a longboat. No wonder so many Vikings remained in the UK forced to blend in with the locals, they probably ran out of longships with so many having been torched to honour brave dead warriors.

It might also account for an aspect of the British psyche – the fact that most people enjoy a good bonfire. Clearly there could be a touch of the Viking in us all.

Skol  (authentic Viking war-cry… not the sort out of a bottle!)