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Descriptive Essay On The Renaissance

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Every year for as long as I can remember, my family has come together one weekend and frequented the Texas Renaissance Festival. Thus, even though I have just about the world’s worst sense of direction, by this point in my existence I can easily navigate the large, open-air park with its winding roads for each “country” and its hundreds of small shops. This year, like most every year, the park held thousands of people, a number that only grew as the day went on, with families and large groups of friends cycling in and out of its crowded gates. With the multitudes of people chatting amongst themselves, the hundreds of individual vendors yelling their catchy chants to sell their wares, and the powerful smells of all the food, the Renaissance Festival can almost be an overwhelming experience. Closest to the entrance and thus first on my family and my to-do list is a small concert venue in the “Spain” section of the festival. My family and I sat on the small, worn stone benches and listened to the band Saxon Moon, which performs Anglo-Saxon and Celtic styled music on various instruments. They’re energetic and their sound is quite unique, so although their music may not be the Top 40 Hits, it’s enjoyable. Over the years, my mum has purchased quite a few of their CDs, so I had heard many of the songs before- making the experience a nostalgic one. Next up, and arguably most importantly, we had to find food. The culinary options at the Renaissance Festival are numerous and all delicious, so I struggled in making a decision. I ultimately settled on Fish ‘n Chips from England and stole a few pieces of “Bloomin’ Onion”- a large, fried onion opened up like a flower- from my dad. Luckily there were several hours of walking on the horizon to compensate for all the fried food! After our hunger was sufficiently sated and we stuffed ourselves, we were left to wander around the park. Excitingly, for the first time in my 18 years of attending the Renaissance Festival, I convinced my mum to allow me to get a henna tattoo. I chose a small moon and star symbol and laid out my wrist on the pile of oriental-style pillows on the artist’s bench. The henna refused to dry properly, so I was forced to walk around the festival most of

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