STUFF – The first time I visited, they had to drag her off set to be interviewed.
She came stalking into the press-room in full shieldmaiden kit, drawing audible gasps from journalists and causing one post-pubescent blogger to make a face like he’d just shut his Thinkpad on his privates.
On my second visit to Vikings HQ – a sprawling production complex hidden in the Irish countryside – the halls are empty, most of the crew are off shooting on location, so it takes me a few seconds to realise that the unassuming woman I’m holding a door open for is not an intern, or someone from the art department.
Today, she’s dressed in a slouchy sweatshirt and clutching a paper coffee cup. The Viking gods have thrown me an unexpected hallway exclusive with Lagertha. I need to play it cool, not say anything dumb.
“They didn’t make you come in on your day off, did they?”
“No, I had stunt rehearsal this morning. They keep us busy.”
“What’s downtime like for you here? Celtic dancing? Brewing your own Guinness?”
She laughs. “They make enough Guinness around here without my help.”