Backstroke to Dunster

Good King Hal was feeling slightly less negative this week.  Either that or he has just been shot by a Dalek in the 1960's, which is jolly painful.

And so it was back to Dunster for another visit to a school that I love very much indeed.  That was the plan, but things depended as to how the weather was intending to behave.  The weekend, Saturday aside, had been mostly cataclysmic with deluges of rain and high winds.  Already saturated ground couldn't cope with the extra water, and it had flooded many side and minor roads.  The drive out to Dunster from Taunton is along a main(-ish) road, but I had visions of it being submerged in various places.  I was really in two minds whether to try and get there at all as reports on the radio and TV suggested that parts of the south west were giving passable impressions of the Marianas Trench in the Pacific.  But to be honest, I just sailed through (no pun intended).

Dunster is such a beautiful little town and looked delightful in the watery morning sun when I arrived.  I was as ever so warmly welcomed by everyone at the school, from Mr Hoyland, the head, right through to the cooks and the caretaker.  This was my 9th visit to this school since 2004 and it was just as much fun as ever. I sat and ate with Mr Hoyland in the big dining hall during the lunch break.  He was thoroughly impressed that my lovely son James had decided to become an Arsenal fan.  I suppose it could have been a lot worse - it could have been.... argh...  I can't even bring myself to say it....  A....  Man United fan.  ARGH!  What a horrendous thought.  I really would have to sell him off to a vivisectionist if that happened.  It would be for the best.

The afternoon was a blast and ended with a very closely fought joust which the gents managed to struggle through and win on the very last quoit after being miles behind at one point.  Suddenly the year long competition is closer than it has been for a long time.  Our score is:

GENTLEMEN 7 - 8 LADIES

So back to the car for the long slog back to Crewkerne, but it was again quite easy, even the bottle-neck that is Taunton centre.  Home cooked sweet and sour pork with sticky rice was the order of the evening and helped make a very tired, but comfortable King.  That evening I received this nice message from Mr James the teacher who had booked me at Dunster this year.  It read:

Hi Mike/Good King Hal,

Thanks for a great day!  We had such a good time and the children got so much out of it! They haven't stopped talking about it all afternoon. I am sure it will be the talk of the week!

Thanks again for a super show,
Best wishes,
Paul James

Now that makes doing the job worthwhile!  Off to the Maynard in Exeter next...

Dunster and Dunsterer...

A lonely ancient mottled thing in the gardens of Barrington Court. And behind him is a sun dial.

Cough. Cough - wheeze - splutter. Gad! Will this horrible chesty cough EVER finally clear off? I have no other symptoms of a cold now - not a thing. But this cough... If I try and laugh at anything I end up hacking away as if I am about to barf up a lung. But all that aside I was in good heart for an early morning start and a drive over to Dunster near Minehead. This was the eighth year in a row I had visited this fine school and as ever I was really looking forward to it. The weather was bright and clear first thing and I made good progress even through that perennial bottle neck called Taunton. As I approached Dunster itself the elegant castle perched on it's rocky outcrop above the town was being picked out, spotlight style, by the first rays of the morning sun - it looked beautiful. As I pulled up at the rear entrance to the school I was greeted by three of the teachers I had seen over the previous years. Coming to Dunster is like coming back to an extended family - everyone is so welcoming. I got set up in the hall, got changed and then awaited the children. It was a small group today, just about 25 of them, all year 4's, but impeccably behaved and some of them showing a very good knowledge of the Tudors. Lunch at Dunster was, as ever, a real treat - home made lasagna with crusty bread and a crisp green salad on the side. I sat with the head teacher, Mr Hoyland, and we got on like a house on fire as we always seem to, even if he is an Arsenal fan.

Back in the hall after lunch I had invited the year 3 group to come and watch the jousting as I would be seeing them the following year. This injection of more children and the appearance of several more teachers managed to push the volume level up through the roof and we ended up with a brilliant tournament. Honours again went to a very fine ladies team who galloped away to a deserved victory. Our score is now:

GENTLEMEN 7 - 9 LADIES

Normal service is now resumed.

I drove back in a fairly easy untroubled way and then spent the evening with Matthew Applegate at the Duke of York Pub in Shepton Beauchamp being told various ribald old jokes by Geoff the Builder. Splendid! I shall be going to visit my friend Pete Flanagan today to see how he is getting on recovering from his car accident. Perhaps like Stan Laurel I should bring him hard boiled eggs and walnuts.

Dunster School

A tense moment as Keith Emerson realises his mighty wurlitzer has just fallen apart. Music lovers from around the globe wept with joy, however their happiness was short lived as mere nano-seconds later Carl Palmer launched into a 23 minute drum solo brought only to a finale due to a sudden attack of Tigers.

The long week continued, but today it was time to go to Dunster. This was my 7th visit to this lovely village/school and once again I was warmly greeted by the charming head teacher, Peter Hoyland. The teacher I normally see, Nicola Grey, had a child last year and is now only working at the school in a very part time basis, so it was a new class teacher for this year's group. Her name was Katy Swann and she was lovely! She pre-warned me the group could be a little "lively", but they were pretty good all in all. It was a small group, only about 30 children, but they were excitable, eager to join in and good fun as ever at Dunster. If you are ever in Somerset, you really should go out of your way to visit Dunster. Most visitors to this part of the North Somerset coast tend to head for Minehead, an act I think worthy of committal for treason. Minehead is a typical "knees up Mother Brown", knotted handkerchief on head, fish and chips, "lets all go down the Strand - HAVE A BANANA!", paddling in the surf, plastic bucket and spade, God-awful seaside resort as you can find anywhere. But Dunster, just a few miles inland from this hell hole is a delight. The high hills around the small village are dominated by the grand walls of Dunster Castle, whereas down in the centre all is olde worlde charm, beams, leaded light windows and period detail. Quaint is the ideal word to cover it. I have only ever been to Dunster to work at the school, but I really must get back there sometime as a genuine visitor.

The morning passed at great speed and was loud and entertaining. I had lunch with Mr Hoyland and we discussed his amazing musical taste, and all the great bands he has seen recently and is going to see. Mr H is quite a groovy dude with trips to see Madness and Ocean Colour Scene recently under his belt, and he is off to see Paul Weller at the end of this month. Lucky chap! Mind you, I am off to see Kathryn Tickell soon (who? I hear you cry. Google her!) and I am looking forward to it.

After the musical interlude it was back to Tudor times for a slightly dinner-lady-delayed afternoon session. The jousting was such a closely fought contest in the final, but it was the gents again back on the winning trail as they just squeaked the narrowest of victories. This now makes our score:

GENTLEMEN 7 - 5 LADIES

How much different it would have been if the ladies could have just taken that win today. Amazing. As I left this lovely school today, the sky above was leaden and heavy with cloud. However, the Quantock Hills in the distance were bathed in bright sunshine and looked almost unreal. Villages, hamlets and houses on their green undulating uplands were picked out in natures spotlight and sparkled alluringly. Lovely!

Tomorrow I am back at Manor Court School in Chard for more Tudor nonsense. Read all about it here tomorrow.