It's the End... But The Moment Has Been Prepared For...

The Maiden's Tower at Leeds Castle, built by King Henry VIII of England to house the Ladies in Waiting of Catherine of Aragon.  Next used in 2013 as part of a monster p*** up when Darlene retired.

Time passes.  It is the one thing you can be sure of...  Nothing lasts forever, even Bruce Forsyth will eventually at some point stop, and that I find a tremendous comfort, don't you?  So from the balmy sun drenched days of jousting at Castle Hedingham, the Knights of Royal England, and yours truly, sauntered on down the M25 and M20 and back into Kent for a week of jousting at Leeds Castle.  It was actually six days of jousting, of which I was to commentate and host the first three days, and then Roland Bearne was to tackle the final three days.  My lovely son James was still in tow and keen for more involvement in the shows.  We arrived at Leeds Castle on the 28th May to weather far removed from that we had experienced at Hedingham.  It was cold, grey and there was a devilish wind whipping across the tilt yard.  We got a smallish turn out for the first show, but they were at least enthusiastic, however shortly after our lunch break the heavens opened and the rain it didst fall mainly downwards and violently sideways.  It bucketed down and in the end Jeremy (from Knights of Royal England) was forced to cancel the second show as it was just too dangerous and slippery for the horses in the yard.  James and I drove back to my sister Cathy's place in Stockbury and settled down for the evening.

The following morning the weather looked a little more promising as we made our way into the Castle.  WRONG!  It began raining again, James and I got soaked before we even started the show.  Halfway through the first show Frank (one of the Knights) had his horse slip underneath him, nearly throw him and then crash through the middle of the tilt.  Following this show the rain fell even more heavily and once more the second show had to be pulled for safety reasons.  Finally, on the third day we managed to get through both shows, yes we all got soaked again and frozen to the marrow, but hell, this is English summertime, what were you expecting?  Of course as soon as James and I packed up and left Leeds and Roland turned up to commentate, the sun broke through, birds sang, cherubim and seraphim did burst forth into song and, yes, dammit all, even Bruce Forsyth was silenced for five minutes.  Yes, the lucky swines roasted for the final three days.  But I wasn't jealous - I just sat in a darkened room sticking pins in a wax effigy of Michael Fish and cackling quietly to myself.

I was back at Leeds Castle by myself on the evening of Friday 31st May for the retirement and farewell party for Darlene Cavill.  Darlene has worked at Leeds Castle in various guises for the previous 26 years, and it was she who first booked me as Henry VIII in 2005 - and did much to help the fledgling Good King Hal business to survive those early years.  It was through her encouragement that my "Henry's Horrid History" shows developed and she also gave me the chance to be Father Christmas at Leeds for eight years!  And I still remember with such pride it was she who asked me to be narrator at the Leeds Castle Junior Prom concert in 2006 alongside the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, Carl Davis and the beautiful soprano Kathryn Rudge, and all in front of about 6,000 people.  Wonderful.  Through Darlene, and her initial assistant Helen Pomorski (nee Budd) and later Becky Lander, I made a lot of friends, had tremendous fun and learnt a lot about my trade and performances.  On the evening it was so nice to see so many old friends from my years at Leeds, but particularly the lady I think who summed up the early years of fun at the Castle - the lovely Jeanne Beaton.  I simply adore this woman, and I am so sad she has been unwell in recent years.  I have so missed her presence at Leeds but it was great to see her and her husband Malcolm at the party on Friday.  Wonderful.  The finale of the evening was a video made by Darlene's son, the very talented Doug Bolton who had made a pop video of the Dolly Parton song "9 to 5" with various different Leeds Castle employees (myself included) miming along to the song.  You can catch it on You Tube if you click on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ig0Zfippy8 .  You have been warned!

I was back in Somerset by the end of the weekend and got myself ready for heading back to being Henry VIII in schools again.  My first show back was today (Wednesday) with an eighth return visit to West Pennard School near Glastonbury.  The sun had been shining all week, but then I have always seemed to have visited West Pennard in bright sunshine!  It was good to see Tony Wheat the year 4 teacher who books me each year and as ever it was marvellous to see the wonderful Ian Gouge the original booker of Good King Hal all those years ago.  It was a nice group, about 30 children and all wonderful fun and good listeners.  In fact I can honestly say I don't think I have ever had a duff group at West Pennard, and this lot were no different.  After a fun morning we then launched into the afternoon, which was very hot in the hall, but marvellously entertaining.  The joust was very loud and popular and ended with that rarest of things - a win for the Gentlemen.  Our score goes to:

GENTLEMEN 18 - 24 LADIES

Can they catch them?  Who knows!  Who cares?  Stay tuned for more vagueness and indecision.  Or maybe not?  Pass the Merlot...

Never Mind the Blizzards.

Good King Hal reckons this is the way forward at Leeds Castle next Christmas... That and a 4x4, a team of huskies, thermal underwear and a hot elf or two...

I hope you're all sitting comfortably as this is a long story. We start back last year - December 7th to be precise. I was just back from Chard, pleased with the idea that I had a clear day or two before I was due over at Leeds Castle for my first Santa-ing of the season. I got in and was presented with a phone message from St Saviour's School on the Isle of Wight asking if I was still coming tomorrow morning for their banquet. Huh? I had been contacted by someone from a school on the Isle of Wight about possibly visiting them on this date about two months ago, but nothing had been confirmed and I didn't even have the name or address of the school. I took the phone number from the message and called the lady in question. I explained quietly and rationally that I in no way could make it to the Island the following day, apologised and ended the call. The lady seemed OK, if a little upset. About five minutes later she called back, virtually hysterical, telling me all the children were coming in in full costume, there were caterers doing a banquet and was there anyway I could just "pop over" for an hour or so. Call me old Mr Softy if you wish, but I soon found myself phoning Wight Link ferries and booking a ticket for the following day. I drove down, thinking to myself it would be an easy day - turn up, shout a bit, eat a banquet, pose for some photos, then go home. But life is never that easy, is it? I was due to get the 10.55am ferry, but due to being stuck at a level crossing for what seemed like a lifetime I managed to drive into Lymington harbour just in time to see my ferry steaming out into the Solent. Arse. I therefore popped into the ferry office and picked up my tickets to be told I now had a 45 minute wait for the next one. Oh joy.

I got back in my car to see that I had three missed calls on my mobile, all from the same number. I called it, it was the school. A very snotty sounding lady demanded to know where I was as I was supposed to be at the school at 10am. I told her as politely as I could that as far as I was aware I was only due at the school at 11.30am, I had just missed my ferry, and if she spoke to me like that again, I would turn the car round and drive straight home. The next ferry finally arrived, I was soon on my way. The school was only about two miles from the terminal the other end, so I was soon there, but there was nowhere to park. The only space stated it was for "AXIS ONLY". I assumed this was for Taxis who's T had fallen off, and nothing to do with German WWII forces. Daring to stand up to irate cabbies and Hitler's forces, I parked in the spot and was soon inside the school. Everyone was in the main hall, and I mean EVERYONE. Teachers, kids, dinner ladies, the lot. From the smallest to the largest. But there didn't seem to be a table or chair for me. I enquired where I was supposed to go. Apparently all the food had already been served, but there was none left, and I was now expected to do a one hour talk to the kids. Well I started and I tried, I really did. But the room was packed to the rafters with some really very excitable very young children who honestly could not have cared less if I was there or not. I played some music, posed for loads of photos and was then on my way. My main thought on getting home was that was 12 hours of my life I will never get back.

Off to Kent. This was to be my fifth year of being Santa for Leeds Castle and this year, rather than freezing my baubles off out in the old tennis pavilion turned into a grotto, I was instead in the much warmer and central Dog Collar Museum - which had been cunningly disguised as a grotto. I have often wondered about the Dog Collar Museum - who actually thought of it in the first place? Did someone just wake up one morning and think "blimey, Leeds Castle is one of the most beautiful castles in the whole of Britain, but it appears to be lacking something.... I know - a Dog Collar Museum!" I know down this neck of the woods there is a "Barometer World" which takes some beating, but I think the whole idea of a Dog Collar Museum runs it a close second.

Well the whole few weeks at Leeds being Santa was quite entertaining. Once more we got swamped with snow halfway through the run, with the castle actually closing on the middle Saturday. I was trapped in the castle for a few days unable to get back to my sister's place near Sittingbourne where I was due to stay. Thinking I would only be trapped for a couple of nights I took only a small amount of clothing with me. I was eventually stuck at the castle for nearly a week which necessitated frequent washing and drying of my clothes in the rooms I was staying in each evening. Seeing my grotty socks steaming on the classy rooms radiators was like finding Worzel Gummidge dossing in the Savoy. I was not the only Santa this year, we had Castle employee Alan Cheeseman working in a twin grotto which meant we could take more people in at peak times. Apart from the day times I was also due in the Castle for four evenings meeting children who had been on tours of the place. These were mostly charming as the children were so in awe of being shown round the castle by actors dressed as Panto characters and then to meet Santa in his study at the end and get a present - most were either beside themselves with excitement or gobsmacked into silence. However, one American family arrived. The parents were of the "Yo! Dude!" species normally associated with skateboarding, surfing or the west coast. Their precocious son of about 8 years came in. "What's your name?" I asked. It sounded like he replied "Lost in Chaos". I chuckled a little. Perhaps he was nervous and had mumbled. I asked again. "LOST IN CHAOS!" he roared, and fixed me with a stare as if to say I was some sort of imbecile. "That's nice for you..." I muttered. "And what would you like for Christmas?" I asked. "I already wrote you a Goddam letter two months ago!" He snapped. Bless. His parents smiled and laughed at him being so big and clever, and snapped a few photos. If he carried on like this they could get some pleasant shots of him being throttled and then chucked out the battlement window down into the icy moat 40 feet below. He was the exception though, most of the kids this year were a delight.

It was great to be back at the Castle again and seeing everyone again. A roll call of honour reads thus: Darlene - as ever, brilliantly leading from the front; Becky - her lieutenant, wonderful and ever helpful; Alan - deputy Santa, well played old chap!; Amy, Sarah, Sophie, Becky, Jen, Pippa & Adam - the finest Elves any Santa could wish for; Jeanne Beaton - just the most wonderful human being on Earth; and to all the other staff and volunteers at Leeds Castle, many thanks for making this one of the most pleasant Santa sessions ever.

Christmas Day was spent with my wife Amanda and my son James at their new home in Basildon, and Boxing Day down at my sister's place in Sittingbourne. 2010 came to a rather muted end as, on the 30th December Amanda's lovely Aunt Margaret finally lost her long battle with cancer and passed away. It was not unexpected but still very sad.

I finally got back to Somerset today, the 1st January. It felt like I had been away for a lifetime. My next Henry show is on Wednesday 5th when I am giving a talk for Sherborne Probus Club.

Sleighing Them.

Good King Hal, cunningly disguised as Father Christmas, explains to Silvio Berlusconi's London Ambassador about how some investments may go up, down and even round and round. It's a tough job but someone had to do it.

Christmas is coming,
The goose is getting fat,

Please spend a penny

In the old man's hat. (Nearly).

Yes, December dawns, wet and miserable and that can only mean one thing = less than a month before David Tennant stops being Doctor Who. What am I going to do??? It also means it is time for me to rip off my cod-piece and tights, leap into an enormous red baby-gro, don a beard that makes me look like ZZ Top will in 25 years time and then start distributing presents to the good and great who visit Leeds Castle near Maidstone in Kent. Yes it is my FOURTH year of being Father Christmas at Leeds Castle. For the third time we are in the old Tennis pavilion with it's log walls and thatched roof, and once again Dallas (a man that CAN) has designed a winter wonderland within. From the enlarged waiting room, the children are led by merry elves through a series of small rooms showing scenes of Christmas cheer (Christmas cheer equals penguins, polar bears, reindeer and a light cascade that looks like a waterfall. Trust me, when you see it, it looks fabulous). Also different this year is my room. Gone is the cosy study look and instead I am seated on a large sleigh, with steps leading up to it so the children and parents can join me. I also have one very sad looking reindeer shackled to my sleigh via tinsel who bears more than a slight resemblance to Rio Ferdinand on a bad day. I am also surrounded by Christmas trees festooned with snow. It really looks the business. I was there for the first time on the 5th and 6th December, I am back again on the 13th and then from the 16th to the 23rd inclusive.

Rio Ferdinand, yesterday, just before kick off.

It's great to see the familiar faces of Leeds Castle again - Darlene Cavill, Helen Budd, Jeanne Beaton and everyone else. Even Mark Brattle took time off from flinging his owls around to come and say hello on Sunday. It was steady all through both days and not really too much like the Rorke's Drift effect we suffered last year. Our presents this year are books full of floor puzzles - large ones for older children and small books of puzzles for the younger ones.

I am staying with my sister Cathy and her husband, Julian, again when I am doing the shows at Leeds, and it is fun spending the evening with Cathy strumming guitars and singing badly to each other. We have decided to record a song to unleash upon the world, our first idea is to do a cover version - a hippie psychedelic version of Strawberry Switchblade's "Since Yesterday" from 1983. It will be the greatest thing ever recorded and should completely obliterate Simon Cowell and his evil empire when unleashed on an unsuspecting British audience early next year.

Oh, and Manchester City 2-1 Chelsea. Get in!