11 August 2020

Sherwood

At first I thought that it was just in my imagination but as I proceeded along the forest path I became more and more certain. It was the sound of a mandolin being played with some aplomb. This sweet music mingled with the sounds of the greenwood - cooing wood pigeons, cawing rooks and the rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker.

I was in what remains of Sherwood Forest having plodded in there from Nottinghamshire's smallest town - Market Warsop. Another sub-tropical day in August - it was good to be in the shade of the oaks, the beeches and the ash trees. To my left I thought I saw a young deer leaping almost silently through the shady undergrowth. 

The music was closer now. I knew that there was a junction of forest paths up ahead. The mandolin player began to sing:

Alas my love you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously;
And I have loved you oh so long
Delighting in your company.

And there he was sitting on a log with his eyes closed in a manner that is typical of many traditional folk singers. This gave me chance to observe his strange attire. All greens and browns with pointy felt shoes and a jaunty felt hat with a pheasant's feather at the side - pointing backward.

I was as quiet as a mouse but clearly he sensed my presence and the music ceased immediately. He leapt to his feet, casting aside his mandolin while simultaneously grabbing a staff that had lain at his feet. He brandished it aggressively.
"Who art thou?"
"I beg your pardon?" I grinned.
"Thy name stranger! Thy name?"
I decided to give him my blog name for personal security reasons.
"They call me Yorkshire Pudding!"
"Pudding of Yorkshire! Dost thou know who I am? Dost thou know the band to whom I have sworn my allegiance?"
"Nope! Can't say I do mate!"
"I am Allan-a-Dale - official minstrel to Mr Hood and his Merry Men!"

Allan made one of those piercing whistles using finger and thumb in a clever technique that I have never managed to master. The sound echoed deep into the trees.
In less than thirty seconds, I was surrounded by a gang of similarly attired men. They appeared as if by magic. One of them must have been almost seven feet tall and there was a fat monk in a brown robe. They were joined by a beautiful damsel with golden hair who said her name was Marian - "...spelt with two a's!"

They were keenly interested in my walking boots, my Swiss watch and Japanese camera and in the contents of my "Converse" rucksack. You should have seen their mouths fall open when I showed them my huge banana! I had the impression that none of them had ever seen a banana before.

"Bind him!" said the giant with the big beard. "We shalt taketh this pudding to Robin. Robin shalt decide what shalt become of this strange creature!"

"Strange creature?" I protested but the giant was having none of it. 

He clouted me unceremoniously with his bear-like paw and I was subdued.

Whatever it was that was happening had not been on my radar when I set off from Market Warsop that morning. I felt as if I had entered some kind of time warp. But how the hell was I going to get out of it... back to the future?

19 comments:

  1. Wasn't Robin supposed to be a Yorkshire man?

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    1. Aye good sire. In Loxley by Sheafeld didst Robin dwell.

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  2. Marian with an A. The only other time I've seen it spelt with an O was in the address on the van for an attraction called The Robin Hood Experience - they obviously weren't too bothered about accuracy, or maybe it was their signwriter.

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    1. Thou pedant! Thou scribe! Thine will be done thou nitpicking rapscallion!

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    2. You've changed it. That's the Maid Marian Way.

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  3. Which of these two stories is true? Answers on a postcard.

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  4. You did have a nice walk! I'm looking forward to hearing the next chapter.

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    Replies
    1. It was indeed a nice walk - until I was kidnapped!

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  5. Like Bonnie, I am looking forward to the next chapter, too.
    Yes, Marian with two a's. In German, Marianne is female, Marian is male. Marion is female again. Confusing, I know.

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    1. You crazy German folk are wild with your spelling!

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  6. You should be drinking more water in this heat. Hallucinations are a sign of dehydration.

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  7. So you never got to meet Robin then?

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    1. Yes I did Sue...at least I believe I did.

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  8. Did you go for a pint with Robin and his Merry men in Ye Old Trip To Jerusalem pub? Is it still only a Groat a pint?

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    1. There were no groats in the forest. Just deer, will boars and squirrels.

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  9. "Your huge banana", eyebrows raised. Really good sir. You are too bawdy! No wonder they did bind your hands, for the good of all I should say.

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    Replies
    1. Glad you spotted that Lily. Well, you couldn't miss it.

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