The day, show by show

The day opened with The Trusty Steed, and it set the bar high. Medieval England staged with real ambition, magnificent horses at full gallop, daring stunts and, at its heart, a fearless young female warrior out to prove her courage. You feel the ground move when the horses come through.

One of our party, a Yorkshirewoman not given to fuss, watched with her arms folded and then gave her verdict. Well beyond what I expected, she said. That lass leading it could properly ride, a magnificent display of horsemanship.

Next came The Lost Feather, and this is where the day caught in my throat. More than 250 birds take to the air, from owls and eagles to macaws and cranes, inside an arena shaped like a giant nest and scored by the BBC Concert Orchestra. I had expected to watch flight, not to feel it. The birds come low and close, close enough to hear the air move over a wing, and when one passed a few feet above my head the whole stand ducked as one and grinned like children. Spectacular, said another of the group, and nobody argued.

At one point an eagle clearly decided it had better things to do, peeled off to go hunting and never came back for the rest of the show. The crowd laughed. Far from a disappointment, it was the honest heart of the thing. These are not machines running to cue but living creatures with a will of their own, and that small act of defiance made the show's whole point better than any narration could. The birds keep their autonomy. We are guests in their world, not its masters.

From there we walked through Victorian Imaginariums, an immersive hedge maze where larger-than-life characters guide you past curiosities and inventions towards the Professor's Imaginarium, popping up around corners with a story or a flourish. It is the sort of thing children remember for weeks.