I Went to a Full Contact Medieval Jousting Festival, and It Made Me Feel Twelve Again

Nobody actually tells you when you are supposed to stop thinking knights are cool. There is no ceremony, no age you hit. You just wake up one day and apparently you are meant to be more interested in mortgages and decking the garden than swords and castles. I never got that memo, and neither, it turns out, did thousands of other grown adults in a field in West Sussex.

I spend my time revisiting the hobbies I loved as a kid, things like Warhammer, D&D and Tolkien, but this was the first time I went properly hands on with one of them instead of just talking about it. I went to Loxwood Joust, a full contact jousting event built around an entire pretend medieval kingdom, complete with quests. Before any of that though, I had a decision to make in the car park: normal person mode, or full send. Full send meant buying a cloak, wearing boots, accepting a quest from a mysterious witch, and becoming unexpectedly invested in the political future of the kingdom.

Loxwood Joust builds an entire fictional medieval kingdom, not just a jousting display

This is not a historical demonstration where you stand behind a rope and watch people in armor. Loxwood Joust creates an actual fictional medieval kingdom, with kings, queens, knights, jesters, witches, guards and musicians wandering around in costume and staying in character the whole time. As I put it, it is a bit like Disneyland, but with more chain mail and significantly fewer princesses.

Alongside that there is proper jousting, armored combat displays, falconry, archery, axe throwing, medieval music, performers, markets and food stalls, plus activities aimed at kids and dedicated fantasy areas. There is also an immersive roleplaying side to it. A character might tell you the queen needs help, and you can ignore them and go get food, or decide this is apparently your problem now and follow the quest. It has a real life D&D feeling to it, but you absolutely do not have to roleplay if you do not want to.

The jousting itself is a proper show, not a lecture

The jousting is not someone from a historical society explaining how a lance may have been used. It is a proper show, with the crowd picking sides, cheering and booing. There is full contact armored fighting on top of that. So there are basically two modes: turn up in normal clothes, watch the jousting, eat something large involving meat, and say this is actually pretty impressive. Or go full send, buy the cloak, wear the boots, accept a quest from a witch, and end up invested in the fate of the kingdom. Both are completely fine.

It is family friendly, but not just a children's event

Kids get their own activities, crafts and quests, but this is not simply a children's event. There is an ongoing storyline with relationships and rivalries in the kingdom that develop over time, and you can camp there and turn the whole thing into a weekend, which is what I did. Roughly, I would break the day down as about 30 percent medieval festival, 20 percent jousting tournament, 20 percent fantasy festival, 15 percent live action roleplaying, 10 percent drink and market, and 5 percent suddenly wondering whether you need to own a cloak.

It really comes down to five levels of involvement. Level one: turn up, watch, eat, go home. Level two: explore the site, watch performances, talk to the characters. Level three: accept quests and follow the story. Level four: turn up in costume. Level five: you have bought a tent, you are calling strangers "my lord," and your family is starting to worry about you.

Jousting started as military training, not entertainment

Every bit of what happens at Loxwood is recreating something genuinely hundreds of years old. The earliest medieval tournaments were basically military training, somewhere for knights to practice fighting on horseback between wars. Tournaments were effectively mock battles, groups of heavily armored men charging around trying to get slightly better at not dying professionally, which feels like quite an aggressive team building exercise.

Over time it became a sport in its own right, training turning into competition and then spectacle, the version we recognize now: two knights, horses, lances, crowds, heraldry, and eventually a wooden barrier called the tilt separating the horses as they charged. By the late Middle Ages and into the Renaissance, this was not training anymore, it was the elite sport of Europe. Kings competed in it, and nobles spent ridiculous amounts of money on specialized armor for it, armor so specialized that some of it was not actually useful on a real battlefield at all.

Henry II's death in 1559 damaged jousting's reputation, but did not end it

In 1559 something happened that massively damaged jousting's reputation. King Henry II of France was taking part in a tournament in Paris celebrating two royal marriages. On 30 June 1559 he rode against Gabriel de Montgomery, captain of his own Scottish guard. Montgomery's lance struck Henry, shattered, and fragments went through the opening in his helmet and into his right eye, which as sporting injuries go is fairly difficult to walk off. Henry survived for ten days before dying on 10 July 1559.

You will sometimes hear that described as the event that killed jousting, but that is not quite true. Jousting was already becoming disconnected from actual warfare, with guns and changing tactics making it obsolete, and tournaments were already becoming more about pageantry than practicing for war. Henry's death did not help, and jousting largely disappeared from the French court afterward, but it did not vanish across Europe the following Tuesday. Tournaments carried on into the 17th century.

By 1839, jousting had become nostalgia and drew a crowd of thousands to Scotland

What happened next is the interesting part for me. Jousting became nostalgia, with people looking back at knights and castles and tournaments in much the same way we do now. That culminated in 1839 in something gloriously ridiculous in Scotland, when a Victorian aristocrat decided Britain needed a massive medieval tournament. A jousting ground was built, aristocrats were dressed as medieval knights, and parades, banquets and proper jousting were organized. Around 100,000 people turned up, with estimates from Historic Environment Scotland going as high as 200,000. And because this was Scotland, the weather also turned up: torrential rain turned the ground into a swamp, tents were destroyed, the banquet was postponed, and thousands of spectators tried to escape through the mud. So apparently, even in 1839, we were perfectly capable of organizing a British outdoor festival.

What you are watching at Loxwood is not a sport that disappeared for 450 years and got suddenly resurrected. It started as genuine military training, became one of the great spectacles of medieval and Renaissance Europe, slowly lost its practical purpose, survived through pageantry and nostalgia, and eventually became the modern reenactment and entertainment version on show here. That makes it more interesting to me, because when two knights charge at each other, they are recreating something Europeans have been obsessed with watching in one form or another for the best part of a thousand years. Having now watched it myself, I understand why.

You do not need a kid or an excuse to enjoy it as an adult

There is always a worry in the back of your head that you will turn up and realize this is for children, or worse, that you will be the only grown adult there looking too excited about a horse. I did not feel like that at all, and that genuinely surprised me. There were adults everywhere completely buying into it, dressed up, cheering for knights, talking to the characters, people who had clearly decided that for the next eight hours this imaginary medieval kingdom was going to be taken extremely seriously.

Somewhere during the day I realized I was not standing there thinking this is all a bit strange, I was thinking it is brilliant. That is the bit I think I miss as I have gotten older. Loxwood was one of those places where for a day, nobody expects you to have grown out of it. You do not need to know medieval history, and you definitely do not need to turn up dressed as a medieval blacksmith. Normal person mode is genuinely enough, and if you want to go further there are immersive characters, quests, markets, live music, full contact fighting and bars, and if you camp the entertainment carries on into the evening. The barrier to entry is basically buy a ticket and be willing to look slightly excited when a horse charges past carrying a knight, and apparently I am very willing to do that.

What a first timer actually needs to know before going

It is fairly accessible for a first timer. There is on-site parking, and bookable shuttle buses were running from Horsham and Guildford, along with accessible toilets, accessible parking and priority viewing areas. It is worth knowing that it takes place in a natural meadow and woodland, so bad weather can make mobility more difficult. On top of the ticket and parking there are optional extras, including workshops, banquets, camping, archery and acting sessions, all charged separately if you want to turn it into a full medieval weekend, though you do not need to.

A full day was more than enough for me. It runs from 10am until 6pm, and I did not come away feeling ripped off. This year it ran across the first three weekends of August at Loxwood Meadow in West Sussex, and it sold out. 2027 tickets are described as coming soon, so the advice is to get on the mailing list rather than assume you can buy one on the day.

My verdict: I would go back, but I want more history mixed in next time

Would I go back? Absolutely. I genuinely had a really good day. The jousting was brilliant, there was loads going on, and I really liked being somewhere where everyone was completely on board with the whole medieval fantasy thing. My one criticism is that I wish there was a little more history and education mixed into it. I think I have probably been spoiled by places like Warwick Castle, where alongside the spectacle you also come away feeling like you have learned something. At Loxwood, the focus is much more on entertainment, immersion and fantasy, and I am exactly the sort of person who would happily stand there reading every single information stand there was.

I went in expecting a jousting event. What I actually got was a day where I was allowed to be 12 years old again. Would I like a bit more proper medieval history next time? Absolutely. Would that stop me going back? Not even slightly.