WITH an almighty roar, a war-painted Viking swings an axe above his head and a shield maiden takes the ultimate test of courage – shattering an arrow with her neck.
Meanwhile, several people are preparing to march across hot coals to show their allegiance to Odin and the Norse gods.
Stewart WilliamsWhile some Valhalla attendees used Vinted and the internet to get costumes, other raiders have hand-made them[/caption]
Stewart WilliamsA fireshow leads the way to the symbolic burning, and offerings are placed into the miniature version of a Viking longboat[/caption]
Stewart WilliamsFire dancers the Ravens of Ragnorrock[/caption]
But in their daily life, these warriors are actually income recovery specialists from Eastleigh, Hants, and a medical researcher from Cheshire.
For the weekend they have shed the shackles of normal life to become Viking warriors.
Medical researcher Andy Thurstan, 48, told The Sun: “I saw the festival online and thought it looked like great fun. One thing led to another and suddenly I’m here in full Viking dress wearing proper Icelandic sheep’s wool around my neck.
“It’s a nice escape from normal life, and despite the reputation of Northmen, everyone is really friendly.”
Welcome to the UK’s largest Viking festival, Valhalla, now in its fifth year, which attracts 5,000 people to Drummer Down Farm in Basingstoke, Hants, for a weekend of boozing, fight training and connecting with the old Norse gods.
Andy and pal Ken Hurley, 42, a caterer from Cheshire, have driven down for the 72-hour event, which offers everything from fierce battle reenactments to willow weaving.
The pair amble off to get themselves some mead, with wooden axes attached to their backs and swords strapped to their hips.
‘The bones are from a KFC we had a few weeks ago’
While some attendees used Vinted and the internet to get costumes, other raiders have made them by hand.
Among the latter camp are Simon Jones and Helen Jones, both 54, who have upped the ante for their third year at the historical extravaganza.
Among the latter camp are Simon Jones and Helen Jones, both 54, who have upped the ante for their third year at the historical extravaganza.
Simon, from Bath, said: “We’ve made our costumes. Some of the bones Helen is wearing are from a KFC we had a few weeks ago. Can’t waste anything!
“Coming here is such a great experience. As a kid I used to go to Durdle Door Beach to make massive fires and cook meat.
“Here we can do that again with the loveliest people.
“Plus I can wave my axe when I want more ale during the feast.”
On Friday, the Vikings were welcomed with a special ceremony in the woodlands where all the different Norse gods blessed the festival.
As the chanting started and the drums began to beat, the wind picked up suddenly and a Northman dropped to one knee to propose.
Gareth Van De Merwe, 42, created a special axe with a wolf-shaped ring attached for Sarah Paul, 37, from Horncastle, Lincs.
As the onlookers cheer, she shouts out “Yes”, causing horns to be blown and shields banged.
Stewart WilliamsAt night, nearly 1,000 flock to a mead hall fit for a jarl — a Norse chief — to tear into platters of meat, cheese and bread while downing ale and mead[/caption]
Stewart WilliamsChay Pratt, 33, from Clacton with Bran the Raven from Falconry UK[/caption]
At night, nearly 1,000 flock to a mead hall fit for a jarl — a Norse chieftain — to tear into platters of meat, cheese and bread while downing ale and mead.
Looking forward to the evening’s festivities are sisters Debbie Burns, 34, and Vicki Hayes, 36, who are wearing hand-made feather headdresses that make them look like ancient priestesses.
Mental health worker Debbie, from Battle, East Sussex, told The Sun: “This is my first time at the festival in this little fantasy world and I’m loving it.
“We’ve had our runes read and every single stall we’ve been to is really passionate about the craft they are showcasing or teaching.
“It’s a weekend where you can just lose yourself.”
Support worker Vicki has met up with a friend she made here last year, Portuguese bar worker Adriana Ribeiro, 35.
She said: “It’s so lovely that you make friends that you can meet up with year after year and it never feels like any time has passed.”
Just behind the ladies, a queue is forming for the archery lessons.
To the right, screams ring out as wannabe Vikings hurl an axe at a target with all the strength they can muster. Many miss the target, and those that hit it struggle to throw it hard enough for it to stay embedded.
But the main attraction for many who have flown or driven to the event is the firewalking session, which trains participants to place their bare feet on hot coals.
John Young, 56, is a fifth-generation Northumbria farmer who discovered firewalking at a low point in his life — and claims it helped him heal.
Now, as an instructor, he brings the skill to other people to help them overcome their fears.
Before being able to walk the burning embers, those taking part are taught how to break an arrow by just stepping forward.
The bolt is placed tip first into the participant’s neck, the end held in place with a wooden board. The warrior then takes two breaths and on the third steps forward causing the arrow to shatter.
‘It’s a chance to let go of the modern world’
Income recovery specialist Chrissie Blomley, 35, from Eastleigh, said: “I didn’t think I’d be able to do it.
“But I told myself ‘f*** it’ and stepped forward.
“Valhalla has been the best day out I’ve ever been on. It’s so refreshing to see people being themselves. I’ve made friends for life today.”
Fellow arrow-breaker Lee Byrne, 52, from Gosport, Hants, said: “You can feel the pressure from the tip of the arrow in your neck, but snapping it feels amazing when you take that step forward.”
Once the bolt has been shattered, it is time to trot over the glowing coals — and many people who walked the fire claimed they barely felt the heat.
For those who aren’t ready to put their life — or their feet — on the line, they can watch others show off in the battle re-enactments which take place in the main arena.
Stewart WilliamsSupport worker Vicki, pictured right, has met up with a friend she made last year, Portuguese bar worker Adriana Ribeiro, pictured centre.[/caption]
Stewart WilliamsOlivia Gregson, 28, Plymouth[/caption]
Stewart WilliamsReflecting on the weekend, Tarmac specialist Kyle Lette, 33, pictured left, tells The Sun: ‘I’ve never felt more relaxed than when I’m here’[/caption]
As two rival clans face up to each other, crowds can be heard whooping and hollering as they bay for blood.
In this case, it’s a tiny cut to Kevin McPhail’s cheek suffered mid-battle. Leading Clan Magnus, the 35-year-old Northern Irish fighter and his team are putting on a show for the baying spectators.
They use a mix of axes, swords and pikes to recreate what a real battle would look like.
The clan even has an archer in the form of photocopier repair man Paul Sykes, 62, who is part of Peterborough’s Wodens Hearth re- enactment group.
Also performing is James Parrish, 48, a tree surgeon from Lincs, but instead of taking part in the fake battle he is helping out with the firedancing by jumping though a flaming hoop.
During the day, though, he’s teaching archery to Viking hopefuls with his son Brandon, 18, and welder Lee Hammond, 62, from Lincs. Those after something more spiritual are catered for as well with hand-fasting — a pagan wedding ritual — and naming ceremonies.
And to close? What else but a Viking boat burning.
A fireshow leads the way to the symbolic torching, and offerings are placed into the miniature version of a Viking longboat before it is set ablaze.
Reflecting on the weekend, Tarmac specialist Kyle Lette, 33, from Ipswich, tells The Sun: “I’ve never felt more relaxed than when I’m here.
“It’s a beautiful place and a chance to let go of the modern world.
“The second I step into Valhalla, my head clears. And I’ve not checked my phone once!”
Next year’s Valhalla Festival will take place from July 24-26.
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