Ever since I was a small boy trying in vain to brain my twin brother with a wooden sword, I have been obsessed with knights and armour.
So it was without hesitation I decided, aged 45, to attend Tewkesbury Medieval Festival for the first time, venturing across the border into Gloucestershire armed only with the RingGo app, a notepad and a leaking pen. The pen, today at least, is certainly not mightier than the sword.
The festival is now widely regarded as the largest free medieval gathering of its kind in Europe, commemorating one of the most decisive battles in that most bloody episode of English history, the Wars of the Roses.
As you might expect, the centrepiece is the re-enactment of the Battle of Tewkesbury itself on part of the site of the original battle (still called Bloody Meadow to this day) fought on May 4, 1471.
It was a stunning Yorkist victory which effectively snuffed out the guttering candle of the House of Lancaster forever.
The heir to the throne, Edward of Westminster, Prince of Wales, was slain aged just 17 on the field of battle. Meanwhile, his father, the weak and periodically insane Henry VI, died a short time later in the Tower of London.
His wife, the formidable Margaret of Anjou, a Queen of England, died broken and impoverished. On the plus side, however, the victory did create a period of relative calm and stability before the kingdom once more erupted into a tempest of violence which ended when Richard III was slain at Bosworth 14 years later.
Although I've lived in Worcester for close to two decades, a Northumbrian never forgets his roots and a borderer's life, in the past at least, was shaped by the spectre of violence.
My old high school looked out on Alnwick Castle, home of the mighty House of Percy. We grew up with tales of the rebellious Harry Hotspur whose archers put an arrow through the face of the future King Henry V, disfiguring him for life, before the great northern magnate was slain at the Battle of Shrewsbury in 1403.
As a boy I would always find some way to draw knights cleaving the skulls of their enemies with broadswords, axes, bills and halberds. Read into that what you will.
Once, aged about five, I drew a picture of a knight slaying a lion only for the teacher to scowl at me and ask what knights had to do with an assignment about London Zoo.
"Oh, he's a time travelling knight," I said, swiftly sketching in a Tardis and a bewildered-looking Doctor Who to make it all plausible in a narrative sense.
My arrival in Tewkesbury was not auspicious. I was told the carpark was full, beginning a somewhat stressful detour through the labyrinthine streets of this beautiful but fairly unfamiliar town.
At last, having found a space, I joined a seething mass of humanity rolling like a slow (and by now profusely sweating) tsunami towards the sprawling festival site.
What is astonishing about this festival is that it's free (although there were people with donation buckets collecting - definitely worth a contribution).
Another thing I had not quite appreciated was the sheer scale of it, not just the crowds but the vast number of re-enactors.
This is a breathtaking spectacle - knights in full plate armour clank about. The air is pierced by the shrieks of falcons, the bellowed cries of men-at-arms and the thunder of cannon fire.
Banners showing the great Houses flutter in the breeze from the House of Beaufort's heraldic badge of the portcullis (chief supporters of the Lancastrians) to the white rose of the House York, depicted with the 'sun in splendour', the personal device of the victorious Edward IV.
Of course, any history enthusiast recognises at once the distinctive boar banner of one of the most controversial and divisive figures of the period, Richard Duke of Gloucester (later Richard III).
For any student of armour, the harnesses of the time have been faithfully recreated using the evidence of surviving armour, effigies or other physical representations and documentary sources.
Many men-at-arms wear the traditional sallet and bevor combination of the late Middle Ages. Some wear older styles of amour including bascinets with a mail aventail and great bascinets.
This is a realistic touch since as many armed men would have kept the armour of their forebears from the Hundred Years War, those celebrated veterans who fought at Agincourt in 1415 or perhaps even as far back as Crécy in 1346, both thumping victories for the English over the French.
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Certainly, this level of authenticity shows how far the festival has come since it began in 1983 with a small group of pioneers wearing knitted chainmail sprayed silver.
The entire event is a triumph of hard work, commitment and organisation.
A slight note of caution for dog owners. They will not enjoy the loud bangs. Artillery was an increasing part of late medieval warfare - and this is reflected at the festival.
The sound of cannons and other guns caused another type of explosion amongst the poor dogs. The good news, however, my pen has started working again.
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