One of York’s most successful clubs in recent times, the University of York Fencing club have a large membership and five sessions a week. Last week Vision duo Helena Horton and Angus Quinn made the trip to the tent to try their hand at the sport.
Helena Horton: After a week of sweating in the Vision office and slaving over essays, I was looking for some form of release, an emotional output. Having a duel to the death with one of my fellow editors seemed like a fantastic idea, though since decapitation is frowned upon on campus, we went to try fencing instead.
Angus Quinn: Having narrowly avoided ending up in a terrifying boxing class, we finally found our way to the surprisingly gentle members of the fencing club. Staggeringly, neither me nor Helena actually had a pair of trainers between us, and consequently wore deck shoes and Doc Martins for the entire hour-long session. This seemed fine, before we were presented with the prospect of a jog, something that caused asthmatic Helena to wheeze and hack like a severely wounded steam train. After a few stretches, some of which pulled muscles I wasn’t entirely aware I posessed, we got underway.
HH: Angus and I were terrified of the prospect of doing an actual sport, seeing as the only exercise we regularly partake in is sharking in Willow. Luckily for us, there was a lot of lunging involved and the En Gaurde position Five, where we were told to dip it low, suited us to the core. The leader of the session was very patient with us, especially as I seem to have no idea where my legs end and my feet begin, and possess all of the grace of Bambi on rollerskates. We got there in the end though, and we prepared to learn how to decapitate (well, poke in the left nipple) one another.
AQ: Since I’d been expecting to be twirling my saber at Helena each hour, the prospect of facing off against actually experienced Fencers wasn’t something I relished and I was immediately rebuked for my inexperience with several short, sharp stabs to my nipples. Fortunately I managed to get my own back, and once I had my arms under control and coordinated, things went quite well, to the point were I felt confident to actually lunge at my opponent and start chasing them across the court like a bonafide fencing aficianado.
HH: After practising with the pros, Angus and I were set on each other. I’d been looking for an excuse to hit him for ages, so this was great. However, he cheated his way to the top by poking me in a place where a woman should never be poked. We had a right laugh and though we didn’t get many fancy moves in, the fencing team were impressed at seeing their knaves blossom into veritable knights. Or they could have been just laughing at how bad we were; we couldn’t tell.
AQ: First things first, I didn’t cheat, Helena was just rubbish. Having dealt with that glaring error, we had an amazing time letting off some steam whacking one another with swords for an hour and the guys running the show were so lovely and patient, considering our complete ineptitude and massive lack of coordination. Assuming we don’t spend the money on tequila and sambuca, we might be tempted to invest in a pair of trainers and come again.