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HISTORICALFENCING.ORG
KEN'S EUROPEAN TOUR '04

The thing about wanting to change the world is that you can't just be against some nebulous Establishment; you have to be for something, to have some sort of base from which to draw your fundamental principles.

For me, it's martial arts in general, and fencing in particular. Studying ancient disciplines not only teaches us that with great power comes great responsibility and gives us a model for our social behavior—grace, equinamity, and justice—it also teaches us that, irregardless of the crass materialism of the twenty-first century, certain things will always be true.

—Ken

Stage 1: I flew out to Edinburgh to hang out with Paul (Maestro Paul Macdonald) for a week or so. Being insane, I had to climb Arthur's Seat, a middling-sized mountain in Holyrood Park in the middle of the city. Did I mention I'm afraid of heights? This is the view up the mountain. I felt like Petrarch climbing the thing.

Ruined chapel on the side of Arthur's Seat.

It's about a sixty-degree angle and quite a long ways down.

And a long way to the top!

'Course, the view from up there is incredible!

Someone told me there was an off-license, but all I found was this stupid marker.

Of course, I might have just Photoshopped myself into the picture...

Going back down, I got a closer look at St. Anthony's chapel. Very Gothic (in the romantic, not the architectual, sense).

The yet-to-be-completed Scottish Parliament building. Paul says that the cutouts look like toilets. I agree.

Amanda's old flat, 57 St. Leonard's Hill.

Henderson's, in the New Town. Amanda told me to check it out for vegan/vegetarian fare.

Personally, I prefer Piemaker! The view is across Southbridge to where a fire took out a chunk of the Old Town. When we read about it on the news, Amanda and I were afraid that the whole bloody city had burned down, but it was just a piece about the size of a third of a New York city block. Still a tragedy. You can replace a Wal-Mart, but you can't replace a medieval stone building. They'll probably replace it with some modern crap with toilet seats on it.

Closer view of the ruined part. You can see it wasn't that big an area.

Paul at work in his workshop. His landlord makes the BEST wine! (Or were it brown sauce. . .?)

The pub, after Dawn Duellists' Society practice, Wednesday night before we left for Italy. The large bloke with the beard in the back is me mate Phil. On the right in red is Kieran. We had a tremendous longsword bout.

"Hey, Paul, let's look dumb in a picture."

Kieran, me, and Paul.

Me and Paul in the airport Thursday morning, photo taken by some tourist. Paul is SO much prettier than I am!

The hotel we stayed at in Verbania, on Lago Maggiore, near Switzerland. The place reminded me of those hotels in the Catskills. (Think Dirty Dancing.) On the right is the hotel itself. On the left is the college where we were supposed to have classes, but didn't, because the weather was so nice outside. Behind the college is a courtyard, and if you could see through the college and 100 yards to the left, you'd see the gym.

Paul, Cameron (that's him behind Paul; he's one of Paul's students and he's from Australia), Bob Brooks, Maestro James Loriega, and I took a walk around Verbania Thursday before the meeting started on Friday. This is the church of Madonna di Campania. Always check out the churches in Italy.

The church's portal.

Inside one of the the church's side chapels. I thought this was interesting, since it was a medieval Madonna and child within Mannerist frescos.

Another one of the Church's excellent frescos. I don't recognize the event, but it seems to be a priest blessing soldiers.

Lago Maggiore, with the Alps behind.

The campanille (bell tower) of another church in town, viewed from the piazza. I love the windy medieval streets, but there's no pavement and the Italians drive like maniacs!

Sunset over the Alps, from Paul's room.

It was a terrific view.

Friday was individual classes with the masters; I took a sidesword (early rapier) class from M. Sinclair, knife defense with Bob Brooks from M. Loriega, and Savate street self-defense from M. Cosimo Bruno. Not only did Cosimo kick my ass (i.e., taking turns kicking each other in the jimmy), he did it in Italian. My Italian and my guard both got very good very quickly.

Maestri Macdonald and Jeannette Acosta-Martinez prepare to teach Saturday's class on smallsword vs. backsword.

Maestri Mario Magni, Andrea Lupo-Sinclair, Paul Macdonald, and Jeannette Acosta-Martinez.

Paul and Jeannette demonstrating smallsword vs. backsword (in reality, they said, you don't engage blades, but it's a cool photo).

Stop-hit to the hand. Or maybe an attack with opposition. I can't really tell, since the picture isn't moving, and all fencing actions take place in time. This is why you can't just "look at the pictures" in a historical treatise.

Demonstration bout, smallsword vs. backsword.

Ditto.

Jeannette about to lay the smackdown on Paul. Or vice versa.

Close-combat with longsword class: Maestro Mario Magni demonstrates a basic takedown.

(I snuck away from the longsword class to take a picture of Maestro Ramon Martinez teaching Spanish rapier.)

The students are rapt.

Maestro Andrea Lupo Sinclair and friend.

It was a beautiful place to have class!

Andrea demonstrates close-combat techniques with Mario.

Mario demonstrates having his arm twisted behind his back.

Another takedown.

This was the salle on fourth floor of the college. We didn't use it, but it was gorgeous. You could see the Alps through the windows.

Andrea and Natasha go through I.33

I.33 is very challenging! Natasha is very good at it, though.

Fightin' Bob Brooks of the Hotspur School of Defense.

Me taking a picture of Vivio taking a picture and sticking his tongue out. Much like Johnny Cash, Vivio's the Man In Black. I also owe him one for retrieving mine and Paul's fencing bags after British Airways lost 'em in Heathrow.

Ramon and Jeannette coming back to the hotel from the gym for dinner. (This is the opposite side of the hotel from the first picture.)

I just like this picture.

Me, Bob, and Paul in kilts for the formal Saturday night banquet... me in my black New York utilikilt. I had to do much Photoshop on this one to make it visible.

"You're a very strange man, Ken."

I love this photo, too! You can't see, but Cameron's also wearing a kilt.

Tutti i ragazzi! This is Bob and Cameron (all the way at the right) with the Florence FISAS salle (Mario, who's from Spain, Iacobo, Christobal, and I didn't get the name of the Nigel Tufnel-looking fellow). I'm going to visit them and drink all their wine.

The masters' table.

The FISAS torta!

All the masters received chalices of Murano glass. They were gorgeous. (This is also a really good picture of Ramon and Jeannette.)

Jeannette cuts the cake.

If Jesus could see what's beneath the frame of the picture, he'd be cryin'.

The last leg of mine and Paul's journey back to Edinbugh was on this tiny Dash turboprop. It was COOL.

Thanks to Paul and Katie, Tales and the rest of the Buca Boyz, Bob, Phil, Gareth, Andrea, Natasha, Cosimo, Vivio, and all of FISAS for a great trip!

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