Riding through the glen
on May 21 in General by DanRomantic ideas we held in our childhoods are often wrecked on the rocks of adult drudgery. For example: I never developed super powers, I don’t own a pet shop, and Mr T never came to my birthday party. One of the most disappointing interjection of reality I’ve experienced however is Sherwood Forest.
As a boy I was borderline obsessed by the legend of Robin Hood. I used to spend hours in the wood behind my house fashioning bows and arrows from twigs and making quarterstaffs by laboriously cutting off branches with my Dad’s metalworking saws (sorry Dad). Even back then I knew I was never destined for greatness, so I always pretended to be Little John rather than Robin himself – feeling more comfortable with sidekick status than main protagonist.
I also had an old Robin Hood hardback book that I’m guessing was printed in the 1950′s but which I treated with the reverence of an original copy of the doomsday book. What particularly excited me was that it claimed that Robin originated from near where I lived. In fact it is claimed that he is buried about 5 miles away from our house (” I shot an arrow in the air, it fell to earth somewhere near Mirfield, you know, next to the Three Nuns pub”).
As you can imagine then, Sherwood Forrest has always held an attraction for me. I imagined mile after mile of oak and beech trees, casting dappled shadows over roe deer peacefully grazing in the woodland glades. The reality however doesn’t quite live up to the myth. Centuries of the civilization’s encroachment has reduced it to basically three trees and a bush.
Despite this there still exists a glimmer of the romance of my youth within me, and so I am still getting a thrill about the fact that I’m going to be spending the next five days underneath Sherwood’s canopy. Kerry’s parents have very generously invited us to share a lodge at Centerparcs with them, and we are packing to go as I type.
For those of you don’t know, Centerparcs is a sort of Butlins for people who eat couscous. Of course people who don’t know what Centerparcs is probably don’t know what Butlins is either, but that’s not my problem is it. Stupid bloody Americans, expect you to do everything for them.
So, while there may not be many opportunities for us to steal from the rich and give to the poor wile we are there, with any luck we might be able to manage stealing from the upper middle class and giving to the lower middle class.
I’m taking my laptop with me (the alternative would be to spend time talking to my wife and my in-laws in the evenings *shudder*), but I don’t know if I’m going to have internet access. So this could be the last you hear from me for a few days.
I’ll make sure I say hello to Robin for you.
Related posts:
- Halo, Dragon Age, Lego Batman, and men riding pandas
- Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and Under the Red Hood
- Tuppence a bag
- Fathers day
- Salsa lessons are all very well, but what about the Doritos?
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The Sheriff would have it so easy these days…
“I seek Robin of Loxley!”
“Er… I think I just saw him in the Subtropical Swimming Paradise”.
P.S. If Centreparcs Notts is anything like the Thetford one, do NOT eat in the savoury pancake place. Unless you like eating something like an Spanish omelette that’s been sicked up by Aunt Bessie after binging on batter mix and mixed veg.
This is one of the most beautiful photos I have ever seen.
Have fun. And if you see Kevin Costner, zing him with an arrow, would you? Thanks!
Enjoy the river rapids – last time I went I think I was 16 and they were great! Can’t imagine they’d be any less fun now though.
Watch out for a guy in black leather. Sir Guy is a real a-hole. Don’t take his gifts.
Mr. T never came to any of my birthday parties either.
I never forgave him for that.
I watched Robin, Little John, Will Scarlet, and the evil Prince John every day after school (in the 60′s) and I can still sing the theme song (and an adolecently-altered version, too). So which “Little John” were you? The literary one, Errol Flynn’s pal, the old T.V. series version, Kevin Costner’s pal, Cary Elwes’ pal, or the BBC’s version?
I also recall a favorite Warner Bros. cartoon version (Daffy with his dollar-and-a-quarter staff and Porky pig as the giggling Friar Tuck) Thanks for the memories, Dan…hope your trip brings them closer for you.
3 trees and a bush? What a gyp.
Have tons of fun and write back soon!
I heard Robin Hood was really an American.
i’m sorry dan, were you talking? there seems to be a hottie posted here that’s requiring all my attention…
Wow, Dan! You’ve been working out!