I adore our children, I am fully immersed in their ups and downs, ins and outs, interests and disinterests and all the things that make their hearts sing. I love our teatime chats and catch ups on the day, hearing all the gossip, peaks and troughs and things that have made them giggle. I research and explore things they could do, join or sign up to based upon their interests - hence taxi-ing them to a suite of eclectic and fabulous after school destinations like fencing, archaeology club, water polo, scouts, guides, band rehearsals/gigs, piano and hockey. But I draw the line at Warhammer. I have tried to be interested, to ask questions and to encourage, but the honest, brutal truth is that I couldn't care less what the answers are. I nod occasionally and say the odd "really?" and "oooo, how fascinating", whilst my mind is putting together the next food shopping list, or, perhaps more frequently, calculating how much it would hurt to stick the fork I'm holding into my eye. Thankfully our son has a wonderful father in Mr Camping Scamping, a far better person than I, the yang to my Warhammer yin, who utterly loves it. Hence, mercifully, enthusiastically and emphatically, all interest in this bonkers orruk filled-world has been well and truly delegated, and I feel not one iota of guilt. It was, therefore, with a huge "hell, no!" that I replied to the question, "Would you like to come with us to Warhammer World?"!
Mr Camping Scamping's Warhammer brainwashing of our son has been meteoric, fully immersive and rather successful as an example of ensuring the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree. In a nutshell, these peas in a pod both love it, are obsessed by it and, consequently, the space that was supposed to be renovated to be an downstairs under-stairs loo is now a repository for all things Warhammer. From twenty-millionty bottles of paint, each an imperceptively different tone of bog green to the next, via a billion and one cups of paintbrushes, each with a specific raison d'etre, to towering stacks of plastic boxes filled with various terrifying mutant inhabitants, each with gloriously repugnant names such as Hobgrots, Troggoths, Gitz, Gobsprakk, Murknob (phnar, phnar!), Gutrippaz, Poxbringer and the utterly delightful, and personal favourite, Sloppity Bilepiper. Frustratingly, a new box of bog dwellers (from the Kruelboyz faction of the Orruk race for those particularly interested in the specific details!) always arrives before the last batch have finished being built and painted. Add in the kit-bashing models that my son and husband love to make in addition to the vintage models of the 1980s that my mother-in-law "helpfully" repatriated to our house, and they really do have a haphazard, half-naked crew of misfits, half builds and weirdos to battle each other with.
In all seriousness, Mr Camping Scamping has been a Warhammerer (?) since he was a child. He loved building the figures way back in the late 1980s, painting them and entering them into competitions. As he got older and growing up got in the way, he lost touch with this part of his youth. It is only since becoming a parent that he has got back into it all, when he had a malleable young mind in the palm of his brainwashing hand! He has therefore been waiting for the perfect moment to take our son on a pilgrimage to the motherland - Warhammer World!
Warhammer World, located in Nottingham, England, has been a haven for fans of the Warhammer Fantasy and Warhammer 40,000 universes since it opened in 1999. This sprawling complex, operated by Games Workshop, offers an immersive experience that combines gaming, artistry, and storytelling. Given the aforementioned robust rebuttal to my husband's invitation, I hand over this part of the story and review to the fabulous and sanity-saving Mr Camping Scamping...
....Welcome, fellow adventurers, to the epicentre of geekdom: Warhammer World. Nestled in the edges of Nottingham, this mecca of miniatures beckons enthusiasts from all corners of the globe, promising a journey into realms where imagination runs wild and adulthood (pfffttt who wants that?) takes a temporary backseat.
Upon Arrival:
Prepare to be greeted by a towering statue of a Space Marine, standing guard as if to say, "Welcome, mortal, to a place where your wallet becomes as empty as the void of space." Take a moment to admire its intricate detail, then proceed past the entrance, where the real adventure awaits.
The Exhibition Halls:
This part was phenomenal, the photos we have taken just do not do this justice! Step into a world where giants clash, dragons soar, and every orc has a face only a mother could love. The exhibition halls are a visual feast, with dioramas depicting epic battles and heroic deeds. It's like being inside a Warhammer-themed dream, except you're wide awake and wondering if anyone would notice if you tried to pocket that tiny goblin. Marvel at the meticulously crafted terrain, where miniature armies clash in stunningly recreated battlefields. Each display tells a story, whether it's the valiant defenders of the Imperium standing firm against the forces of Chaos or the noble warriors of the Old World locked in mortal combat with hordes of rampaging greenskins. The attention to detail is staggering, from the weather-worn banners fluttering in the breeze to the battle-scarred armour of the combatants.
But it's not just the battles that captivated us; it's the little details that bring the scenes to life. Take a closer look, and you'll find hidden Easter eggs and nods to the rich lore of the Warhammer universes. From subtle references to iconic characters to playful vignettes that inject a touch of humour into the grim darkness of the far future, there's something to discover around every corner. And let's not forget the sheer scale of some of these displays. Whether it's a towering Warlord Titan striding across the battlefield, casting its long shadow over the puny mortals below, or a majestic dragon soaring through the skies, wings outstretched and flames licking at its maw, the sense of awe and wonder is palpable. It's a reminder of the boundless possibilities that await those brave enough to venture into the realms of Warhammer.
Gaming Galore:
But enough gawking at dioramas, it's time to don your strategist hat and prepare for battle. The gaming halls at Warhammer World are a veritable playground for enthusiasts, with tables stretching as far as the eye can see, each one a blank canvas awaiting the brush strokes of epic tales. Choose your army wisely, for here, battles are not merely games—they're sagas waiting to be written. Will you lead the forces of the Imperium, stalwart defenders of humanity, against the encroaching darkness? Or will you unleash the fury of the Orks, laying waste to all who dare stand in your path?
The gaming tables themselves are a sight to behold, with terrain that ranges from desolate wastelands to bustling cityscapes. Each piece meticulously crafted to provide not only a visually stunning backdrop but also strategic opportunities and challenges for players to navigate. And let's not forget the camaraderie that permeates the air, as players swap stories of daring manoeuvres and last-minute victories. It's a community united by a shared passion for table top gaming, where alliances are forged, and rivalries are born amidst the clatter of dice and the rattle of miniatures. So grab your rulebook, muster your troops, and prepare for battle. The gaming halls of Warhammer World await, ready to turn your wildest fantasies into epic tales of heroism and glory.
The Hobby Area:
Feeling artistic? Head to the hobby area, where brushes, paints, and glue await your creative touch. Whether you're a master painter or a hopeless amateur, there's something oddly therapeutic about spending hours meticulously painting tiny warriors while pretending you're not neglecting your adult responsibilities.
Bugman's Bar:
After a day of battling and painting, it was time to refuel at Bugman's Bar, where the ale flows as freely as the tales of epic conquests. Sink into a cosy booth, order a pint (or three if you are sans scamps), chow down on a well-earned burger and regale your companions with stories of heroic triumphs and humiliating defeats. Just be careful not to spill your drink on that freshly painted miniature—it's a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare.
The Warhammer World Store:
No trip to Warhammer World would be complete without a pilgrimage to the store, where shelves groan under the weight of miniatures, rulebooks, and other assorted treasures. It's a paradise for collectors and a financial black hole for everyone else, but hey, who needs money when you have an army of plastic soldiers? We "may" have purchased some more "essential" figures whilst we were there - Shhhhhhhh....just don't tell Mrs Camping Scamping!
My final thoughts are that Warhammer World is a place where grown adults can indulge their inner child, unleash their creativity, and pretend they're not spending their hard-earned cash on toys. It was a place where true father and son bonding happened, where imagination knew no bounds, and laughter was as plentiful as dice rolls. So grab your sword, raise your banner, and join the fray—adventure awaits at Warhammer World! Just remember to bring your sense of humour and leave your judgements at the door.
I told all of this to Mrs Camping Scamping and she said...
All of the above is all well and good, great fun and fabulous father/son bonding time and all that jazz, but when, exactly, am I going to get my under-stairs toilet?
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