I’ll be bakc (photo: Mihai Plămădeală)

If someone had asked me and my friends in the years 1990-2000 when and where we would have liked to live, one of the options would have been the years 1960 – ’70, in California, in full Hippie motion, for walks through San Francisco with flowers in our hair, for Monterey and Woodstock, to see Jefferson Airplaine, Hendrix, Grateful Dead, Santana in concerts, or to watch Genesis in real time, Van Der Graaf, King Crimson, Premiata Forneria Marconi, Pink Floyd & Co. Two or three decades later, the years 1990-2000, with their Historical Reenactment movement, also seem full of poetry and life. Whoever was at the Medieval Festival in Sighișoara from that period had some unique experiences, different from those overseas, happened some time before, but no less than these in terms of feelings. Three days and three nights of uninterrupted show, in which (almost) every participant, musician, actor, stuntman, luminist, sound engineer or spectator stayed within the walls of the fortress to be in the middle of the events. To be honest to the end, I mention that not all editions were as successful, some even disastrous, but the audience was always up to the task. As a person who noticed a lot of what happened then from the stage, I can say that we obviously smoked less than at Woodstock, but drank much more, following the good example of the Middle Ages. The mayor at the time even told me that during the festival the bars in the city sold more coffee and alcohol than the rest of the year. In relation to everything that was beautiful and good in the romantic years of the medieval movement, I agreed with my colleagues from Nomen Est Omen that, one day, we will return to Sighișoara.