Vikings

We went to York for the Vikings. Well no, we went to York cause neither Susanne nor I had been before. But then we found out about the Viking festival. So we wanted Vikings. At least I wanted Vikings. A lot. And there were Vikings all right. The first thing we walked into were hoards of Vikings training for battle. The problem was that, as we have later discovered, a big part of them were… Polish. The taxi driver who took us back to the hostel on Saturday night told us that each year there were loads of Norwegians coming for the festival, towing their long boats and all. So, in spite of the fact that on Saturday the ‘Vikings afloat’ were nowhere to be seen, on Sunday we’ve set out to find them anyway. Cause, of course, I wanted Norwegians. Unfortunately, the ‘Vikings afloat’ were still missing in action and the warriors swarming all around York were still, well, mostly Polish. That to say that when we went to see the Jorvik reconstruction I was sort of surprised that the sound effects were voices in Old Norse and not in, well, Polish.
I bought my Thor's hammer from a Swedish merchant, so at least there's an ounce of hope that it is more or less authentic and not, well, Polish.