Labor Day weekend, Children’s Fantasy Weekend, a basket of sunscreen and hand wipes, four adults (one costumed as lovely wench–me) and three very excited small humans in costumes, crowns and elf ears. That was our merry crew bound for the Pittsburgh Renaissance Festival in West Newton, Pennsylvania, but a forty-minute horsepowerd-coach read SUV) ride from Pittsburgh.
If you’ve never been, imagine a Tudor village tucked into Pennsylvania woods—then sprinkle in bubble-blowing faeries, lords and ladies, knights on horseback and the occasional dragon sighting. Turkey legs, troubadours and horridly delightful British accents.
This was my first visit to the Pittsburgh Ren Faire. I’m a veteran of the Bristol Rennaisance Faire, just north of the Illinois-Wisconsin border. I’d been a Bristol-goer since my misspent youth singing bawdy epic British ballads as I roamed the lanes. And my entire career has been steeped in covering fantasy television and writing novels set in those ancient times.
The Soundtrack of the Shire
Speaking of which, music stitched our day together. We lingered at the feet of the harpist, who turned the noise of the lanes into hush and wonder, enchanting my five-year olde wee one. His small faces upturned, eyes wide–and wanting, more than anything to pluck the strings. (And to her credit, the harpist obliged). Elsewhere, strolling troubadours and drummers kept our feet tapping between staged shows, which ran the gamut from fire-eating jugglers to bawdy (not-too-bawdy) actors to storytellers and assorted buffoons and jesters.
Parade Magic
The Grand Parade is pure pageantry: the King and Queen, bannermen, jesters, guilds, and a river of color drifting through the village. My grandkids waved like they’d trained for court life. After, we trailed a bubble-blowing faerie who transformed an ordinary lane into a shimmering tunnel; the kids chased globes of rainbow light, and for five perfect minutes time paused.
Vendors, Makers, and the Joy of Browsing
We browsed hand-forged wares, leatherwork, candles, and sparkly treasures and fairy wings. The vendors are part of the show—half artisan, half actor—and the grandkiddos learned how chainmail links together and how a carver coaxes a face from wood.
But, “M’Lady, This Looks Like Pittsburgh!”
In a distant glen and down a hillside, we stumbled upon my favorite surprise: a Renaissance-faire-esque mini model of Pittsburgh—a whimsical mash-up of old-world facades and Steel City landmarks. The kids pointed out “castle bridges,” we debated where the Monongahela would flow, and I quietly thrilled at the way the festival winks at my adopted city of Yinzers.
Archery: Hitting the Bullseye (and the Wallet)
Then came archery. “Just one round,” I said. Famous last words.
We all shot—me, my daughter, and the grandkiddos—and yes, dear reader, I hit the target. (Thank you to my High School gym teacher!) Watching the kids draw, aim, release, and then bounce up and down with triumph was worth every dollar. Pro tip: set a budget before the lanes lure you in—archery, axe-throwing, and games of skill (and the all-important tips!) add up faster than a knight can shout “Have at thee!”
About the Food
The food is plentiful and cash only. If you are a vegetarian or keep kosher, dining options were limited (ice cream sandwiches, nachos with cheese). Bottles of water, mead and ales of various varieties are for sale in multiple parts of the shire. You cannot not bring in your own snacks or water bottles! So if your family has dietary restrictions, plan ahead: eat before you go, pack nibbles for the car.
What the Kids Loved Most
- Shooting arrows like woodland heroes. And yes, my grandson with his long-flowing blond locks and (fake) elfin ears much resembled every bit a young Legolas as he aimed (and hit the archery target).
- Bubbles with the faerie
- The harpist
- The parade—waving at royalty never gets old
- Trying on trinkets and choosing one “treasure” each
- Helping me purchase my own jeweled bauble
What I Loved Most
- Sharing the shire with a new generation
- Free Parking!!!
- That quiet harp interlude (I’d bottle it if I could)
- The festival’s balance of local flavor and Tudor whimsy
We left dusty, happy, and slightly glittered, the car full of new stories and a few carefully chosen trinkets. The Pittsburgh Renaissance Festival gave us exactly what we came for: a day where history, fantasy, and family met in the middle of a Pennsylvania wood and decided to dance. First question the littles asked their parents upon returning home? “When can we go back?”
Huzzah, Pittsburgh. We’ll be back. Next season.
