Norwich in the South East? Norfolk in chance.

Jane Seymour, bursting into tears when the blindfold falls off and she finally see's her new husband...

So with the dust barely settling on the Holy Family School in Benfleet, his Royal Sagaciousness was up at the crack of dawn and out of the front door of Amanda's house and on the road to Norfolk.  I had mentioned to some friends that I was in the South East for the week for shows in Benfleet, Norwich and Wickford, for which my friends had snorted and said, since when was Norwich in the South East?  Well, when you live in Somerset, everything to the east of London appears to be the South East.  Sort of... Depends on which way you face and where you start from.  Oh shut up.  I don't care.  I knew what I meant.  And anyway, it wasn't even in Norwich, I was returning to Martham on the outskirts of Great Yarmouth.  Yes, Great Yarmouth, or how I still refer to it - AAARGH!!!  Not my favourite place on Earth.  I am not a big fan of seaside resorts, and let me tell you, Great Yarmouth is THE last resort.  Anyway, it doesn't matter as I was in Martham, which is a lovely little area and nothing to do with Great Yarmouth at all.  Norfolk has this reputation for having a population full of people dressed in smocks throwing turnips at old ladies that they think are witches, to paraphrase Charlie Brooker, but the children and staff at Martham are always really on the ball, and this year was no different.  It was a big group as ever, well over 100 children, but we had a fantastic time, great response and loads of laughs from all the children and staff.  It's a long drive to Martham, but days like this make it worth it.  The jousting was deafening, unsurprising considering the size of the group, and ended in a massively important win for the Ladies!  And so the score clicks over to:

GENTLEMEN 7.5 - 8.5 LADIES

So the ladies strike back after a good recent series of wins for the gentlemen.  

I got home to Amanda's place and had lots of cuddles from my lovely son, James.  Always makes the day worthwhile when that happens.  The following day, the Thursday, luckily I was much closer to Amanda's place with a return visit to Wickford School in Essex.  Wickford is a lovely school, and is always a delight to come along to. Yet another warm welcome and yet another group of fabulous kids.  All the teachers were great fun as usual, except for one very dour Welsh male teacher who spent the entire day with his arms folded, a resigned look upon his face somewhere between pain and utter disinterest.  This was a challenge, and so during the afternoon stocks session when my shows get incredibly silly, I kept haranguing him and dragging him into my routines.  But I'll give the old leek muncher his due, he resolutely refused to raise a smile for the entire day.  I was for once, defeated. Diolch yn fawr, as they say in some of the more refined sheep shearing parlours in upper Gwent.  I prefer O leiaf yn ceisio gwenu, rydych yn ddiflas git Cymru.  But please yourself I say.

Another fabulous jousting tournament in the afternoon culminated in a stunningly easy win for the ladies, again!  This is much more like last year!  Our score goes on to:

GENTLEMEN 7.5 - 9.5 LADIES

So daylight once more splits the two teams.  And this is our score as we moved into the half term period of this scholastic year.  Any thoughts of an evening of rest was soon scuppered as I was asked to go along with Amanda and James and see their latest rehearsal for the play they are appearing in - Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol".  James is playing the street urchin that Scrooge encourages to go and buy the big turkey for the Cratchitt family at the end of the play.  He has learnt his lines brilliantly, and just needs to slow down his delivery a bit and he will be a big star.  Amanda is playing an old hag who pilfers Scrooge's belongings after he has died.  I refuse to mention the words "type" and "casting" at this juncture as I rather like my cobblers where they are at the moment.  All in all, the play itself looks like it is going to be a stunner, and speaking of stunners, so is the lady playing the Ghost of Christmas Past.  I must go to the first performance and sit in the front row.

Half term saw James and I head down to Wales for a few days in the pouring wind and rain that appeared to be Newcastle Emlyn and my parents house.  To be honest some of the weather forecasts we got at the start of the week were a tad biblical, but the plague of locusts and boils did miss us on the whole and we had a lovely few days away.

Next stop for the King - an appearance at Hampton Court Palace on Monday doing a corporate event for BP.  My first Hampton Court show - I can't wait!  Watch this space for more.

The Parable of the Yo-Yo-ing Henry VIII

Good King Hal trying valiantly to out-stare a Triffid.

And Lo, it came to pass, that in the land that is known as Somerset, there dwelt a man called Good King Hal who didst wear tights and impersonate some old Queen or something. And verily he wouldst travel the country and startle children and teachers alike with stories of times past. And e'en now Good King of the Hal wouldst booketh his appearances so that they wouldst all be in the same area of the land that is known as Eng-Er-Land and he wouldst not have to fanny-eth about on the motorway too much. Well, that was-eth the plan. In the month that is January in the year of our Lord that is 2012, it did come to pass that Good King of the Hal had somewhat nausethed up his bookings and lo it did also come to pass that he would be doing a show in the land that is known as Dorset and then immediately have to driveth unto even like the Button that is known as Jensen, and haul his Tudor bottom all the way over to the land that is known as Norfolk in lesseth time than it taketh the on-line supplier, that is known as Amazon, to getteth a new DVD to you, even with their bargain delivery service. And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth and use of the "F" word. And thou doesn't have to be a mind reader to worketh out what happened next... Here end the lesson.

Yes folks, it was time to get on the road and do some quite obscene amounts of driving. I was heading on the Thursday back to Downlands School at Blandford Camp in Dorset. This was my fourth visit to them, but I only get to go there every two years as I do my show for years 3 and 4 combined. As Blandford Camp is an army base you must sign in through their security post when you first arrive. As it was I arrived at the camp at about 7.30am and presented myself to the security guards. They had not been informed by the school that I was coming but seemed to see this as some sort of fault on my behalf. I was treated with utter contempt by one elderly uniformed creep and with slight disdain by the other hoary old Scottish git. When I asked them what I should do I was told in no uncertain terms to basically bugger off and sit in my car until 8am. This I did, but was then told on returning to the Chuckle Brothers that they had still not managed to get hold of anyone at the school. The elderly uniformed creep had now gone off duty and I was left in the warm tender care of the thistle flavoured one. Eventually word was got to the school and they avowed that I was not a psychotic Al Qaeeda operative with explosives strapped to my codpiece and I was let in.

It was nice to be back at Downlands - the school has been almost completely rebuilt in the two years since I was last there. It looks fantastic! It was a brilliant day as ever at Downlands - lovely kids, great teachers and lots of fun and games. I was warmly welcomed and treated like real Royalty by everyone there, which made up for the rude welcome from the Security Guards. After lunch we had a stunning jousting tournament which was won by a very good Ladies team. The score then stood at:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 15 LADIES

I drove back to Crewkerne and packed a small suitcase and was soon on my way up a rapidly darkening A303 for a trip to Essex. On my arrival I was hugged tightly by my lovely son, always a good welcome.

I was up at 5am on the Friday morning for a two and a bit hours drive up to Martham Junior School near Norwich. My previous two visits to this school had been at the height of summer, so it was a bit of a shock to the nervous system to arrive in temperatures only just above freezing. But the welcome was as warm as the hottest summer day. Martham is a delightful school and it is a real pleasure to go back there every time. It was a biggish group, over 100 children, a mixture of year 5 and 6, and they were fantastic - so full of life and enthusiasm. The noise when they really got going was almost unbelievable and the jousting was of a suitably high standard. At last though it was time for the gents to finally snatch a well deserved victory. So at the end of the week the score is:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 15 LADIES

I drove back to Essex for a couple of days with my lovely son, then this morning it was back to yo-yo-ing up and down the A303 for a return to Somerset and tomorrow morning I am off down to Tiverton in Devon and another visit to Blundell's Prep School. And just to show the yo-yo-ing isn't over, the day after that I have to drive back to Essex for a visit to Wickford School. I really must not organise a week like this again for a while. I don't think my car will forgive me if I do.

Martham Primary, an Essex visit, extreme heat and World Cup Finals.

Anne of Cleeves and Good King Hal being attacked by a triffid, mere nanoseconds before both spontaneously combusting due to the hot sun - but then they shouldn't have touched it.

Martham Primary School has changed it's name at some point in it's recent history. Now when I first started doing my Henry shows there, they were still called West Flegg Middle School. My how things change! The first big change I noticed was the weather when I drove up to Essex from Somerset on the Thursday. What had been warm, but still reasonable weather in Somerset had morphed somewhere along the A303 into a full blow heatwave when I got to Basildon. On turning off the air conditioning in my car and opening the door, the sudden onrush of heat was the equivalent of being slapped in the face with a hot towel. Anyway, it was great to see Amanda and James again. My son is just gorgeous (I know I am biased) and was in a very cuddly mood for most of the weekend, which was perfectly alright with me. We had some fun time together, going to Hylands Park in Chelmsford on the Sunday for instance. There they had a small food market on with one stall specialising in home made sausages. James took great delight in grabbing a tooth pick from the seller and having a try of virtually every sausage they had on display. He was just going back for a second bombing run when I hauled him away! It was also fun watching "Shaun the Sheep" episodes with him on the BBCi player - we were nearly crying with laughter at a couple of the episodes.

Anyway, back to Martham! I got up at about 5am on the Friday morning and was on my way by 5.45am. The drive up was relatively easy and most pleasant in the early morning coolness. However by the time I got to the school the heat had set in properly. It was lovely to be back at Martham which is a delightful school. The teachers are lovely and welcoming, the children fun and polite, and all in all it is always a wonderful place to visit and do a presentation. We had a fun morning, particularly with one lad who was dressed up in a home made Henry VIII outfit who I took great delight in calling "Mini-Me" all day! After a lovely lunch of fish and chips, we were back for a fun afternoon, and it was a loud one as well. The stocks were uproarious fun and we finished with another belting Jousting tournament. Yet again, the gents stormed to a great victory. Can they snatch victory from the jaws of defeat? This now makes the scores very interesting:

GENTLEMEN 24 - 27 LADIES

Hmmmmm! Interesting, very interesting... I got everything loaded back into the car, turned on the engine to get the air con going, and was alarmed to see that the outside thermometer reckoned the current temperature to be 35 degrees! Now that is HOT!!! I was so glad of the air con. I got back to Essex relatively easily. We had a lovely weekend together, even spoiling James by taking him for an exciting breakfast at Burger King on the Saturday.

I watched the World Cup Final on the Sunday night as Holland kicked lumps out of the Spanish, and the Spanish then took to leaping around, rolling on the floor, clutching "hurty limbs" and writhing about as if in the middle of electro-convulsive therapy. It made a mockery of good football and just about summed up this crappy World Cup to a tee. Oh, and Nelson Mandela turned up. (Not in Essex you understand). I wonder if F W de Klerk go an invite?

I saw Amanda and James off to work and school this morning, did some tidying up for Amanda, and the washing up (what a nice chap) and then headed for Somerset. The traffic was awful. There had been an incident on the M3 this morning and the motorway had been shut for quite some time. Even though now re-opened there was still a knock-on with cars queuing back onto the M25. I finally got past that, then got held up with loads of tourist traffic at Stonehenge AGAIN (I blame the Pandorica) and then even more tourists driving incredibly slowly in the fast lane and not really overtaking anyone. In the end it took me over 4 hours to get home. And now, despite some early rain and coolness, we now have the heat back. On with the fan...

Martham Primary, Norfolk

It was another up at the crack of dawn start for Henry show number 501.  This was a return visit to Martham Primary School in Norfolk - I have been visiting this school for a while, in fact so long that when I first used to visit it had a different name!  It used to be West Flegg Junior, but due to an amalgamation or two and some re-organisation it has morphed into Martham.  It is a lovely school, large, airy and with some really lovely friendly welcoming teachers.  The children are pretty wonderful and special as well.  The journey up was relatively painless, apart from having to listen to Sarah Kennedy again.  To hear her twittering on about going to the Henley Regatta this weekend was enough to make you want to chew your own foot off.  Well it certainly makes Alex Lester's Best Time of the Day Show before it sound absolutely wonderful, which it usually is anyway.  Even Johnny Walker, sitting in for Terry Wogan, was an improvement.

We had a great morning - so many laughs.  One of the teachers during the morning break thanked me for making the Friday so wonderful and said she couldn't remember laughing until she cried at school before.  Bless her!  It was almost unbearably hot again, but thankfully a slight improvement on the heat at Wandsworth the other day.

The afternoon was loud, wild and fun.  The joust in particular was so loud I was waiting for the roof of the hall to blow off.  It was a very closely fought joust with four fantastic teams battling away.  Eventually, it was a gents team that surged to a close, but deserved victory!  Some of the lovely kids helped me load my stuff into the car and I was on my way.  The journey back was mostly good until I hit the A130 where I was stuck for about 45 minutes in slow moving traffic because of a crash.  But I was soon at Amanda's place in Basildon and cuddling James, until he decided that playing Lego Indiana Jones on the Wii was more fun than me.  Fair enough!

Back to Somerset this weekend.