What will l remember about this Medieval Mocha? The sinking feel of mud beneath my feet. The smell of wet straw and whiffs of kettle corn around every corner. The sound of bagpipes amongst bustling street crowds. The site of bosoms bouncing above tight leather corsets and men wearing too many feathers. The mocha itself was forgettable as I sipped the hot froth and soaked in my time-travel experience. After a dirty day of fantasy in the medieval sun, I was ready for air conditioning and a long shower. Until next year, my lords and ladies.

The Michigan Renaissance Festival blew away my expectations.  Thank you for giving me a reason to play dress up and to see the world through equal eyes as my 3 year old.