Just like the Chinese have a year of a snake, rat and other critters, the year 2009 is with us, The Normans, known as „The Year Of The Page“. Although, if we were to be correct, we shouldn’t refer to them as pages, because this year they became „trebuchet shooters“. Exactly – a big Year of Trebuchet Shooters. Nevertheless, the word page is so ingrained in us that all of us prefer to use it. So: The Year Of The Page. Basically, there isn’t even a reason to write about the knights, as they, just like every year, rode horses, did some competitions, did some duels and here and there fought with their swords. But the pages, my goodness, they carried weapons, fought swords, threw hammers, started fires, ran, carried helmets, shot the trebuchet and half of them even had a French text. I think that it is completely appropriate to mention their names for their glory and remembrance. Here they are:
Valer a.k.a. Valer, Matias a.k.a. Matus, Jacques and Jacques a.k.a. Miro and Milos or the Rabits, under the leadership of a reknowned herald, Sir Godfrey de Charny.
We started this season in a traditional manner, where two days before the premier our trebuchet wasn’t finished, etc., so we slept little and worked a lot. We improved what we could, mainly we kept tweaking the trebuchet. The guys, together with Gaston and Jaro Matejka, always quietly, when I wasn’t watching, added rocks until the baskets were overflowing. Finally, the trebuchet shot about 70 meters. If it only didn’t rain all the time. We packed, loaded the truck and drove to Sedan, all in rain.
In Sedan we managed to build our camp during sunny weather but then, as dictated by tradition, it rained, even though as if by some higher direction of fate, every day at 3 p.m., just as we were starting a performance, it got nicer for a while. But the second month, it was sunny all the time. That was a vacation! Everything, at least what was important was done, the performance was up and running and we had time for trips, flea markets and sports activities.
Carine arranged for us to have keys to a canoe club, so we were on the water every day. We even represented Slovakia in international matches of Kayak-polo but not very well. The French beat us like little children.
Every vacation must end at some point and we are back home again – oh well. But it was a good year.