My son Henry regularly dresses as a knight. He spends hours extracting a foam Excalibur from the handle of the blue plastic stepping stool he’s wedged it into. He gets any notion of chivalry that he has from repeated screenings of Disney’s 1963 film The Sword in the Stone, because he’s three, and too young for Mallory or the History of the Kings of Britain.
One of the peculiarities of Britain – the land of castles – is that there are remarkably few child-oriented overnight stays w… (View original article)