Well, faithful Cow-o-philes. Yesterday morning, as promised, I arose at the rooster’s crow and headed off to Sydney’s National Maritime Museum in search of Vikings. I arrived in plenty of time, not really being sure if Vikings are known for their punctuality. I think it is probably reasonable to suggest that being late for a raid on a Saxon village was poor form.

Indeed, there was already a horde of Vikings in full battle dress battering at the door when I got there. Well, I exaggerate for effect. There were one or two insouciant proto-Vikings hanging around the door with their friends. Aside from the beards and long hair there wasn’t much to indicate they were Vikings. I’ve seen scarier at my local pub. It was a bit anti-climactic I have to say. Before I even got a chance to ask them about their references they were ushered inside by museum staff.

I don’t remember ever being taught about the Vikings’ penchant for bright blue duffel bags in school, but I guess I could have been shooting rubber bands at Chris O’Reilly at the time.

There was a brief interesting moment when one of the Vikings carried in a strange wooden box:

Then it was all over. I’m sorry to say, that’s all that happened. I guess it is feasible that the armed naked dancing went on behind the closed museum doors, but alas, that remains only a speculation. Oh, as I was about to leave, I noticed another Viking unpacking something from his car:

He wasn’t exactly a late Viking, since the other Vikings were all technically early but I got the distinct impression that if there was any pillaging and looting going on inside the museum, he was in for slim pickings.

I did find out that the Viking exhibition starts in November and today’s successful applicants would be featuring for a few weeks. It is my further mission then, loyal readers, to go along once the show has opened and this time bring back proper evidence of Vikings alive and well (and hopefully armed and attired in full ferocity) in the Antipodes.