I think I can do my promised post on Høstfest tonight, before time and senescence wipe all recollection from my mind. I’m gradually recovering from the rigors of travel, and expect to be fit for duty on Thursday, when I have to drive four hours to Green Bay, for the Midwest Viking Festival on Friday and Saturday.
How was Høstfest 2024? From my point of view (and I think I speak for all the Vikings), it was a smash. Among the highlights were these:
First of all, we were in a new location. Over the years (and a lot of years it’s been in my case) the festival has shoehorned the Viking encampment into any space they could find after the really important exhibitors had been accommodated. But now at last they placed us next to the Log Cabin (used, I understand, for Fur Trapper rendezvouses), right across from the main entrance to the exhibition/entertainment building.
This meant, first of all, that people could find us. The chief complaint we’ve gotten from Viking afficionados over the years is that nobody ever seemed to know where we were. This year we were front and center – and the visitor numbers were correspondingly gratifying.
It also meant that we were in the fresh air, where – strictly speaking – Vikings belong. An American log cabin isn’t so different from a Scandinavian one after all (Swedish immigrants invented them), and the weather was pleasant (sometimes, in fact, pretty darn warm).
Now if you know me at all, you know that I’m not numbered among the Great Outdoorsmen of this world. But even a couch tuber like me could feel the difference, spending four days in God’s sunshine and fresh air, as opposed to four days on concrete under fluorescent lights (often breathing the dust of a horse barn). I was tired at the end, but I didn’t feel as if I’d spent the time confined to a jail cell, as in the past.
I also sold a good number of books. And the local hosts who gave me a bed for four nights were extremely pleasant and congenial.
Each day, at 2:45 p.m., I went to an inside stage to sit on a stool next to a very beautiful woman who interviewed me about my writing and translating, as well as Viking history. I could tell she was in awe of me, but retained my dignity.
I even found a vendor who sold me some Norwegian Kvikk Lunsj candy bars, which are like Kit Kat except really, really good.
I drove home weary in body but quite fizzy in spirit, as Bertie Wooster might have put it. And as usual I stopped for lunch on the way with my friend (and commenter on this blog) Dale Nelson, which is always a pleasure.
I suppose Høstfest 2024 could have gone better for me, but offhand I can’t think how.
