I grew up in sight of Avalon so hate to be a wet blanket, but Arthur was a 5th Century Romano-British Christian and the Celtic stuff – if it ever existed in that corner of England – was long since gone.

Sounds like some sort of genital disease. Or a chocolate bar.

Holemaster; Maybe this is why the weather is so miserable in Ireland… we’ve pissed the Gods off through our lack of appreciation!

Granny; You could always shout lewd comments and hold up score cards out of ten?

*Trying desperately to get the image of a young horned Grandad out of my head*

Fat Sparrow; Given that life was definitely more hard-core in those days, it’s an extremely tame and girlie book, but still mildly entertaining nonetheless I reckon.
You raise a good point about shaggable neighbours. Two naggins of cider usually takes care of that problem.

And remember that any “community” back in the day consisted of about 100 to 1,000 people. Take a look at your neighbors; any of them shag-able? Mine aren’t. I’ll pass.