Whoever is Holding Spring Hostage, Can You Release It? Please!

Spring last year - you remember?  Sunny and warm.  Dry.  No wind.  Ring any bells?

With winter showing no sign of abating for the time being, we plod on through what must be the longest season in the history of humanity.  According to my records winter started on June 6th 2012 and is still going.  So that's global warming that is...  Climate change?  Yeah, that as well.  All I know is that I have icicles on all of my exposed areas and permafrost in my codpiece.

My latest Henry shenanigans saw me last Saturday (the 16th) bowling up at BBC Somerset in Taunton for an appearance on the Emma Britton Show.  This was a bit different to my previous appearances as it wasn't as just one of her panel commenting on certain news items.  This time I was to be interviewed as one of her "Somerset Lives" series.  I was following in the footsteps of Michael Eavis and Tara Newley, so in my own warped little mind I was hugely famous for a day.  I got to Taunton early and had a nice wander round the shops - it is a fine town for shopping, but as I was virtually skint it was more a case of pressing my face against the glass and looking longingly in at the goodies inside until I was chased off by irate shop girls.  I walked up to the BBC studio in Park Street and was greeted by Emma with a big hug, which was nice. I sat in the Green Room sipping tea and receiving messages of good luck from various friends around the globe who would be tuning in, including Amanda and James in Essex, and Shelley and Sir Owen in Maidstone.  And then I was on!  It was a nice relaxed interview, lasting about half an hour and lots of laughs.  If you got a chance to hear it I hope you enjoyed it and if you didn't........ what the HELL were you doing???  Emma successfully grilled me about all aspects of my life and I did my best to answer the questions and be entertaining, so hopefully that worked!

On the Sunday I popped over to Barrington Court to see Matthew Applegate and drink more tea.  We had a nice relaxed chat and I offered some ideas to him for various Henry walkabouts over the summer, should it ever decide to put in an appearance, and the possibility of a one day "Tudor Festival" - watch this space for more...

Monday I was back on the road, driving up to Essex ready for a Henry Day at a new school for me - Woodham Ley Junior in Benfleet near Southend.  As I drove into the car park, the lady who had just driven in in front of me saw me parking and shouted "You MUST be Henry!" which I took as a compliment.  What a lovely school!  It was a fabulous day - great fun.  A nice group of about 60 children, mixed across years 3, 4 and 5.  I did my opening bellow ass Henry to the group and one little girl immediately dissolved into tears and threw herself at her nearest teacher, before being lead sobbing from the room.  And that was the last I saw of her for the day.  I hope I haven't damaged her permanently.  The rest were a really lively group, ready to laugh and join in with everything.  After lunch we had more fun and nonsense and ended up with a joust that was absolutely deafening.  Inevitably the ladies romped to an easy victory that now moves our score on to:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 20 LADIES

This is like England v San Marino.  Or England v Wales at rugby if you follow my drift.  I can almost declare this contest over already.  Come on Gents!

I had an evening with Amanda and James, my lovely son watching old Doctor Who episodes with him - yes, I am truly slowly turning him into an anorak.  The next day I drove down to Kent to spend the day with my lovely Shelley, before heading back to Somerset that night.  It was a nice little trip but over too soon.

And so the Easter Holidays are virtually upon us.  You can tell this by looking out the window and seeing elderly people being mauled in the streets by muderous gangs of rabid starving Polar Bears.  When IS spring going to start?  It must be soon.  Even Carol Kirkwood has disappeared from BBC Breakfast.  She's probably frozen in her dressing room.  My next Henry appearances are next weekend when jousting returns (ice storms permitting) at Knebworth House in Hertfordshire, and then I shall be back at Bourne Hall Museum in Epsom after that for a day of Henry's Horrid History on April 3rd.  Book early to avoid frost bite.

So, Did I Miss Anything?

And then Kate Winslet turned into an anteater... as you do.

So where has naughty old Good King Hal been this last week or so?  No blog?  Surely not!  Well despite not much Henry-ing going on, I have been a busy boy.  My final Henry appearance before the week of half term was an evening appearance down at Saunton Golf Club near Braunton in Devon.  I had been booked to appear for a Rotary Club.  Now they were a very nice group, especially the chap who had booked me, however he dropped something of a bombshell the week before the show.  It was a black tie event and they expected me to turn up for the dinner in full DJ and bow tie.  Now I don't even own a normal tie, let alone and bow tie and DJ. When I explained this over the phone to the nice man he said "well don't worry, just wear a normal suit".  A suit?  Me?  I used to wear suits and ties when I was working down at Skandia in Southampton, but since I left the "ranks of shuffling graveyard people", to quote early Marillion, I needed a suit and tie about as much as a vegetarian needs a George Foreman Grill.  I considered looking at buying or renting a suit, but most circus tents were unavailable and to be honest there just wasn't enough material in the world to make one.  In the end it was decided (by me) that I would turn up in my usual Worzel Gummidge gear and then slip into my Henry costume for the meal, do my show, then get changed and clear off.  Which is what I did.

The drive down was much further than I expected, but was relatively easy.  I was warmly welcomed by all the Rotarians, got changed and then came out for the meal.  The food itself was lovely and then after several speeches it was me.  Not wishing to blow my own trumpet but I tore them up and went down a storm.  Loads of laughs and even a round of applause for one new gag I threw in about the recent discovery of Richard III's remains in a Leicester car park.  The gag was basically, if someone came into my office and said they'd found a Richard III in the car park I'd say, what do you expect, we are in Leicester after all.  Ba-doom-tish!  A big round of applause at the end and I was off, but with more than twice my agreed fee as they had enjoyed my show so much.  How very nice of them.

On the Saturday I drove to Tidworth in Wiltshire and the Royal Tank Regiment Family day.  I met up with my lovely Shelley, Sir Owen of Leeds Castle, Shelley's mum and my lovely son James who they'd picked up in Kent when Amanda brought him down.  Shelley's eldest son, Jamie is currently serving in the Royal Tank Regiment.  It was a fun day for all the family - tanks to clamber over, weapons to look at, soldiers to chat to and with the added fun for the kids of a roller coaster, dodgem cars, and various side stalls including shooting range and candy floss.  The food plus all this entertainment was completely free and James and Owen had a right old time of it, checking out the impressive vehicles and leaping all over them, then driving the dodgems until I imagine the national grid began to run out of electricity.  At the end of an exhausting day Shelley, Owen and Shelley's Mum headed back to Kent, while James and I struck out down to Somerset.

The following day James and I headed off to Newcastle Emlyn and a visit to my parents.  The weather was nice and my folks were pleased to see us, however for the first day James wasn't too well with a bad stomach, but he soon recovered.  We had some nice days out, including a visit to Aberaeron which is an absolutely delightful little seaside town.  Then on another day we went into Carmarthen and took James to see the movie "Wreck It Ralph" which he absolutely loved.  I then drove James back to Essex, then had a brief stop at Kent to see Shelley before shooting back to Somerset.

I was back on the 23rd for a visit to Bridport to see Justin Currie in concert at the Electric Palace Theatre.  I had bought two tickets in the hope of going along with Shelley, but she couldn't get a baby sitter for Sir Owen and sadly was stuck in Kent.  I had a spare ticket so I offered it to a few friends and ended up visiting the show with my friend Jill Beed who luckily lives about 20 yards from the front door of the Electric Palace. Her husband Mark cooked us a lovely meal before we went, so I was spoilt rotten.  As for the show?  Stunning.  If you ever get a chance to see Justin Currie live - go for it.  His song writing skills are such that he makes it look sickeningly easy and anyone who has ever had a bash at writing songs (myself included) will know just what a tortured experience it can be.  He kept the entire audience spell bound for nearly two hours, just himself and his guitar (and occasionally on piano) and I am already in the queue for the next tour.  Please check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuiy3_hjhkI for a clip from Saturday night of Justin performing "Always the Last to Know" which was brilliant and even brought a tear to the old King's eye.

Back to being Henry now that half term has gone.  Tuesday (my birthday) sees me back at St Mary's School at South Woodham Ferrers in Essex.  Watch this space for more.

A Tudor King Doing a Very Passable Impression of a Yo-Yo

And to be honest, this was a major sticking point.  Geddit?

Another week, and another seven days of travel, travails, excitement, ups, downs and lots of miming to appalling records.  But enough about that for now. More later!  We spin the clock back a full week though, to the previous Friday when I was due to make an appearance at a brand new school for me - St Mark's Junior School in Salisbury in Wiltshire.  The weather was a bit rough on the journey down, but the arrival and welcome was warm and genuine.  The motif for St Mark's School is the Venetian lion, hence the name St Mark's I guess, but it gives the whole place a slightly cosmopolitan air.  Well it was a great day with the kids in a lovely school, with much fun had by all.  The day finished with the inevitable joust and the inevitable win for the ladies.  Our score slowly clicks over to:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 14 LADIES

The drive back was OK but unmemorable.

Saturday morning had me up bright and relatively early and heading up to Kent to see my lovely Shelley.  I spent a lovely day with her and Sir Owen of Leeds Castle before I headed over to my sister's place at Stockbury near Sittingbourne for my brother-in-law Julian's birthday party.  Shelley sadly couldn't attend as she couldn't get a baby sitter for Owen, however she did insist that I went anyway.  Well, who was I to argue?  The evening was great fun with lots of laughs with Dave and Anne Turner-Maynard, John and Viv Rich, Cath and Julian (of course) and Michelle Coda.  I drank too much and stayed up too late, but by God it was worth it, even the hangover in the morning.

I spent Sunday with Shelley and Owen, and we ended the day by re-visiting the new restaurant in Maidstone: Buddha-Belly.  Sadly, it was a little bit of a disappointment this time around, but Owen got very excited by being able to actually see the chefs hard at work cooking your food on the big flaming stoves.  We wandered back to the car each of us with our own Buddha Belly by this time, but for me there was only a little bit of sitting around, before climbing into the car and driving to Essex.  I spent the evening with my lovely son James, before heading for an early night.

Up at an ungodly hour on the Monday and on the road north up towards East Anglia.  I was heading back to Gorleton near Great Yarmouth and a once in every three years visit to Herman Junior.  I just love the name of this school - Herman Junior.  As I said in my previous blog entry about this place, it sounds like a character from The Munsters.  Again it was a fun day with everyone being welcoming and friendly, and wouldn't you just know it, the Ladies strolled to another easy victory in the Jousting.  So while I was trundling back down the A12 towards Essex, our score slowly changes to:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 15 LADIES

On the Tuesday I was down to Leeds Castle where I had to video a clip of me addressing the camera to advertise the forthcoming Jester Factor - a search for a new jester for Leeds Castle.  So I was all dolled up in my finest Henry gear, lurking in the King's bedchamber in the castle, when in walked a Japanese tourist, he had his back to me.  He slowly turned round and promptly nearly lost his sushi in his pants - so surprised was he to see the King standing in front of him.  Well if you wish to see the results of my video work then please go to You Tube and look at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oGBwLJyaT8 and you might be pleasantly surprised. Or not of course.  That evening it was back up to Essex as yet again the following morning I was up at the crack of you know what for a return drive to Norfolk.

It it's Wednesday it must be Norfolk?  True, here I was up the A14 and A147 heading back to Norwich and this time an eighth annual visit to White Woman Lane School in that lovely city.  This is a cracking school and always a delight to visit, and this year was no different.  Warm welcomes, much laughter about Mr Richmond the teacher wearing a Tudor pantaloons outfit in the same colours that Norwich City wear, so he did have a passing resemblance to a post medieval canary.  And apart from nearly falling asleep during the "Grand Tudor Quiz" everything went swimmingly and by the numbers.  And wouldn't you just know it, the ladies only went and triumphed again in the jousting.  The gents don't stand a chance at the moment and they now fall even further behind with a score of:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 16 LADIES

Sometimes it seems like there is absolutely no stopping them.  The drive back to Essex was fairly awful with sudden unexpected snow falling on the A147 in Norfolk and then a big smash on the A12 south which managed to close the road for a while, which was a bit of a pain.  But I managed to get past it.

Thursday was a day of relative relaxation.  I met up with an old friend of mine and had lunch, and picked up a big load of old cricket books, which pleased me!  All that and the weather was nice, which was splendid.  After another evening with dear James, Friday was due to be something a bit special, and it was.

I was due on this Friday to appear at James' school for a special appearance to kick off their History Week. James and I drove to the school through sunny but very icy lanes and arrived to a warm welcome from all of his teacher's and staff at St Anne Line School.  I was quite nervous about doing this show for James and his mates - it's OK to do shows time after time to anonymous children that you don't know, but suddenly to appear in front of a group of children you know, especially when one of them is your own flesh and blood.  That was a bit different, slightly scary and all the more rewarding when it went well - and it did.  It was a great day with very friendly help from Mrs Slee and Mrs Mulreaney, James' class teacher and his one to one worker, in that order.  Well James thoroughly enjoyed the day, even after I put him in the stocks during the afternoon session.  The only bit he couldn't stand was the noise in the hall during the joust and therefore sat quietly in the office when that was on.  As for the joust it was won - AGAIN, by the ladies.  How are they doing it?

GENTLEMEN 11 - 17 LADIES

What a lead!  Can they possibly be caught?  Keep watching.  The King is delighted to announce that he now has a couple of days off before Monday will involve him getting up very early for a first visit to Dulwich College Junior School in South East London.  Should be fun, then it is on to Southampton, then Hereford, the Devon and then.... Oh God.  It is back to being a yo-yo again, isn't it?

Birchfield, Brides and Books.

Anne Boleyn: You are Johnny Vegas and I claim my 400 groats.  Henry VIII:  Anne Boleyn, it is with great regret when I say - you're for the chop.

Snow?  What snow?  Almost as soon as it had come the inclement disgusting white stuff was on it's way out.  And good thing too.  My return visit to Birchfield Junior School in Yeovil was going to be a good one - all my visits there in the past had been equally entertaining.  The main road from Crewkerne to Yeovil is currently being dug up for some reason or other, so I found the early part of the journey involved lots of fannying around in minor country roads.  I arrived at the school under glowering grey skies and loaded my stuff into the hall.  As on my previous visits they have a large "Story Tellers" chair which they bring in, clean down and drape cloth over it to turn into a splendid throne for me.  Smashing.  Well it was, as in every visit I have made to the school, a real rip roaring fun day - a great sparky group of kids and lots of laughs.  The final joust was deafening and ended with ANOTHER win for the lads.  They are really on a roll now and have clawed the scores back to:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 13 LADIES

By the time I had got round to taking my props back out to the car, the rain that had been falling all day was slowly morphing into big fat round snowflakes that plopped down and refused to melt, the utter gits.  It snowed most of that night and for a good part of the following morning.  With a new covering of snow now in place my proposed visit to Riverside School in Hereford was certainly at risk and after a quick call to that school my visit was postponed until the 13th February.

On the Thursday, in the thick snow, I didn't go far aside from popping into the local Waitrose for some bits and pieces.  There was only one couple ahead of me at the checkout, an elderly couple of right old carrot crunchers.  Their stuff went through and they packed it away in various bags.  She pulled out a bulging leather purse, opened it and immediately a torrent of loose change exploded all over the floor.  Mostly coppers.  Her elderly husband and I then took to scrambling on the floor and picking them all up.  We poured the coins back into her purse which she zipped up.  The lady on the till then repeated their total.  "Oh yes" says the old lady, unzips her purse and.... there is a second explosion of loose change all over the floor.  I have to say that by now I was helpless with laughter and incapable of picking the change up this time.  When they had finally left and I got to the checkout girl she explained that they came in every week and ALWAYS did that.  So if you want a good bit of free entertainment folks, get yourselves down to Waitrose in Crewkerne and look out for this couple.

I drove to Kent on the Friday morning and spent some lovely time with Shelley and Owen.  On the Saturday afternoon I went to Essex and had some quality time with my lovely son James.  On the Sunday a group of us went to Detling Showground in Kent to check out the latest Wedding Fair and see if our proposed Tudor Wedding plan was looking good - and it was.  Michelle and I went in costume and got quite a bit of attention.  The cartoon above was done for us by the Artful Doodler - what a clever chap.  And I do look like Johnny Vegas in my picture, no matter what some people say.

Back down to Somerset and I was interviewed today by the lovely Marion Draper from the View From Crewkerne newspaper about my nearly 10 years of being Henry.  We met at Bilby's Cafe in Crewkerne and over a tea cake and pot of tea we put the world to rights.  I should be in next week's issue, so look out for that.  After bidding goodbye to Marion I wandered down to Gresham Books, a big antiquarian book seller at the head of Crewkerne High Street - saw a magnificent book from 1910 called "C B Fry's Who's Who of Cricket" in a leather bound jacket - wow.  I wanted it so much.  Till I saw the price. £125.  Ah, maybe not.  I'll wait till it comes out in paper back.  I'll get my purse out and release a tsunami of coppers.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like The End of the World as We Know It

Father Christmas, with his wages in a small red sack to his right, totally failing to pull the wool over the eyes of Sir Owen of Leeds Castle and the Broomfield Exit.  The Elf on the right has just been pushed through a window into this picture.

They do say you live and learn.  They do.  And now after eight years I find myself being Father Christmas AGAIN down at Leeds Castle.  Eight years of donning the red suit and the white beard, all those ho-ho-ho's and all those happy children.  And also all the unhappy ones, the minuscule little toddlers, heads already stuffed full of advice from parents, advice like "don't talk to strangers", or "don't take sweets from strangers", or even "look out for strange characters".  And then they find themselves in a room which looks like it's been decorated by members of the band Parliament and introduced to a rotund strangers in bright red outfit and a massive beard and ordered to tell this figure their deepest desires and also to accept presents from him.  No wonder so many of them scream and hide behind their parents legs.  And don't forget the embarrassed ones.  Kids who have reached an age of maturity where this sort of demeaning childish outing is now the nadir in their development.  How I love to embarrass the hell out of them.  Or the smart arse kids.  The ones who are "precocious" (i.e. spoilt little shits) and say something rude to Santa and get a guffaw of laughter from the parents when really a vicious elbow in the ribs would be more agreeable.  And speaking of parents, what about the pushy/moody/never-bloody-satisfied parents?  The ones who however long you spend with their child it is never enough, they always want more, or one more photo, and all this time there is a legion of other irate parents outside the grotto, desperate to get in and slake the blood lust of Christmas greed in their children.  It sort of makes you and your Elves feel like gaudily dressed defenders of some tinsel-bedecked Rorkes Drift.  Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but I feel I am reaching the end of the line.  This could be, as they say "it".

If it is to be my Lapland "Swan Song", then it was lovely to go out with a visit from my lovely Shelley and her son Sir Owen.  He arrived in his wheelchair unaware of what exactly I was doing at Leeds Castle, and I hoped with the red suit and white beard and with my glasses taken off he might not recognise me.  Nope, not a chance.  As soon as he was wheeled into my presence he looked at me and went "MIKE!"  Rumbled.  But despite what I said at the start, I have lived and learnt this last week or so.  So here goes!

WHAT I HAVE LEARNT THIS WEEK

1. Don't snore next to a lady with an ear infection
2. Never believe anything you read in a Mayan calendar.  End of the world, my arse.
3. Don't have a tea party with people with the norovirus.
4. Don't live in Tovill.
5. Christmas shopping in any town anywhere in Britain in December is NOT fun.
6. Smile at everyone, even the miserable gits.  It doesn't half annoy them.
7. The man with the shovel and the shit filled wheel barrow is NOT the new events manager at Leeds Castle.

Mistletoe Fayre 2012 Pts 1 and 2

Good King Hal adopting the "George Osborne Move" in getting money out of terrified elderly peasants to help support a poor investment banker fallen on hard times and down to his final Porsche and only £12 million to see him through at his hovel in Mustique.

Two days of the Mistletoe Fayre alongside a weekend with my lovely Shelley and the benighted Sir Owen of Leeds Castle and the Broomfield Exit.  What could possibly go wrong?  Well, the weather for a start.  For a few days it had hammered down with rain, and then it continued in much the same way, in enough quantities to make someone like Noah think "shit, where did I put my nail gun?"  However, Shelley made it to Somerset from Kent, and we had also managed to get to Barrington from Crewkerne across some of the dampest, wettest most mud caked roads you have ever seen.  Our cars were soon Somerset two-tone - normal body colour and then caked on layers of mud, cow dung and assorted flattened road kill. 

The Mistletoe Fayre looked as good as ever, the Blackdown Babes had done themselves proud!  Matthew Applegate also looked particularly chipper and happy, which was lovely to see.  Shelley and Owen accompanied me on the first day and we treated ourselves to lots of lovely yummy things like some pork and apple sausages, fresh meat pies, Scotch eggs and even some Cherry Brandy.  All real healthy stuff as you can tell.  Then in the evening, Shelley spoilt me even more, in a way only a woman can do for a man she truly loves.... Yes, we sat and watched "Prometheus" on DVD.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.  I think.

On Sunday, Shelley and Owen decided to make a run for the east ahead of the anticipated rain, and would include a stop off at Tidworth to see Owen's brother Jamie at his barracks.  I went back over to the Mistletoe Fayre and had another fine day, had a few chats with the lovely Rachel Brewer and took great delight in drinking some of her magnificent mulled cider.  Delicious.  Then to add to the fun and games, all the electrics in Barrington Court house fused plunging everyone into darkness.  I was in the old kitchen when it happened first - the lights flickered for a moment and then conked out.  It reminded me somewhat of when you watch movies of the Titanic and the electrics all fail on the doomed liner.  Well, just to keep up with the same sinking feeling I immediately started playing "Abide With Me" and "Rock of Ages" on my recorder.  But as far as I was concerned it was women, children and Tudor despots first, and when the lights had finally all been sorted I thought enough was enough for the weekend, and I made run for it.  So another very successful Mistletoe Fayre and another lovely weekend with Shelley. 

The Never Ending Bumps of Doom...

...but very soon Good King Hal was back to his charming, sociable, cuddly self.  My, how we all laughed.

With the Blenheim shows out of the way, it was time to head back to Kent and another joust at Leeds Castle.  This time however it was an evening corporate joust for an American based company who were in situ at Leeds Castle all week.  Michelle Coda came along as well and to begin with she, the rest of the jousting team and me spent the early part of the evening hiding in their tent as it was absolutely tipping down with rain.  It poured and poured, the sound deafening on the roof of the tent as we cowered inside.  Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rumbled menacingly, and one or two of us were more than a little worried that we were in an open field, sheltering from a big electrical storm inside a large metal framed tent.  Not the cleverest place to be in that situation.  But the clouds and rain passed by and suddenly light evening sunshine appeared.  We were then introduced to Larry from the American group, their head honcho and a man hell bent on riding into the arena on one of the jousters horses, wearing a helmet and clutching a sword.  And all of this while wearing a pair of shoes that can only be described as BLUE!!!  Well, we did our show OK, but thankfully there was a small group of children from a local youth group to add some atmosphere as there was very little feedback from the American guests hidden in their marquee.  To be honest the show was hard work, simply due to the lack of audience reaction, you suddenly realised just how much this show relied upon audience participation.

I was back at Leeds Castle on Wednesday evening, and with the same American group from the Monday evening joust, for a champagne reception and evening banquet.  I had been paid a deposit by them and they were going to pay the rest on the evening.  I got an email from them the night before asking if I could swap from the Wednesday to the Sunday evening, but I couldn't as I was already booked up.  They then said as I was only appearing on the Wednesday they had decided to drop my fee.  I was not a happy bunny, as I think most people would be.  I arrived at the Castle bristling for a fight, and soon got one.  I was speaking to the lady from Hospitality at Leeds and said I wasn't happy about the way I was being treated by the host company.  Her immediate response was "well, if you want to leave you can go..." at which point I was quite tempted to.  I then said to her I needed to speak to the main organising lady from the American group and struggled to remember her name and ventured the option of Lisa.  The Leeds lady immediately bristled and said, rather snottily that the lady was a representative from a very important client, her name was Laura and suggested I get her name right before I spoke to her,  This was the snotty straw that broke the camels back.  I told the Leeds lady that the American lady should get her f***ing figures right when booking artists.  So I threatened to walk out and leave, but was encouraged by slightly less snotty Leeds lady to stay.  So I did the meet and greet, later paraded the guests down to the banquet hall, and then did a little 10 minutes stand up slot that had them rolling in the aisles with laughter.  I guess I won them over.  At the event I even got to meet Missy Franklin, three gold and one bronze medal winning swimmer from the American team at the 2012 London Olympics.  She had one of her gold medals with her, so I had a chance to hold the medal and get a close up of it - huge, and staggeringly heavy.  And Missy herself was lovely, and quite amazingly tall!  She towered over me! So what had begun as an unpleasant evening, in the end was a very memorable one.

Friday saw myself, Michelle Coda, her daughter Vix and my son James back at Hever Castle for another weekend of jousting.  It was good to see Sir Owen of Leeds Castle there for each and every day, alongside his delightful and yummy mummy, Shelley.  The Friday was amazingly hot and sweaty, with barely a breath of wind to be found.  We were also short of men from the jousting team with Ashley, Bill, Dan, Mungo and Andy all missing for a variety of reasons. So for once the Knight Marshall's at both ends of the arena were ladies - Lady Kim ("the Squeeze of du Barry" as I introduced her!) at the red end, and her daughter Lucy ("Bob") manning the blue end.  It was a pretty good show, despite the stifling heat and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.  We ended up back at Michelle's house in Folkestone eating a lovely take away Chinese and drinking cold beer.  Just what was needed.

Saturday, and all the lads were back for the jousting show (And Sir Owen and Lady Shelley!).  The day began with the horse box arriving at the Castle and, after the real horses had been taken out and tethered, Jeremy went back into the box and produced a pantomime horse, consisting of his son Sam and Sam's mate Alex.

As you can see from the picture attached, it was incredibly realistic.  OK, so not to us, but as the pantomime nag clopped down the back of the horse box it completely freaked out the real horses who backed off and tried to break their tethering to hoof it away.  Michelle's daughter Vix got to have a ride on the pantomime horse's back, much to her delight.  It turned out this was one of many costumes Jeremy had recently purchased from an auction, most of them jokey fancy dress efforts, but we would see a lot more of them later that day.

The show on the Saturday was great - a fantastic responsive audience and even a nice cooling breeze for us idiots dressed up in costumes.  Very much appreciated.  James and Vix got much more involved in the show this time around and even had a good old bop around the arena at the end when we played "We Will Rock You" by Queen, and Sam and Bill came back on for their traditional victory dance.  The Tudor Roses were in attendance as well on the Saturday, and so after the show it was decided we should all go along to the Kentish Horse pub just up the road from Hever for some dinner and drinks.  We thought the other jousters might be there, but of all of them only young Mungo had shown up.  Sir Owen was terribly upset as he wanted to see Sir William (or "The Bad Guy" as he calls him), but of the others there was not a sign.  Eventually Sir Owen and Lady Shelley had to leave and make their way home.  Barely five minutes after they had gone Jeremy and Kim's Land Rover swept into the pub car park and 12 (YES, TWELVE) jousters leaped out of the interior all dressed in various silly costumes from Jeremy's purchase.  Ashley and Sam were Gorillas, even if Ash's one bore a striking resemblance to Amy Winehouse from behind, Kim and Lady Porlock were rabbits, Jeremy a big pink elephant, Lucy was a turtle, Sir Stepen of Porlock was a Womble (or a Wookiee Womble as James christened him) and there was also penguins, more rabbits and Stephanie was a cross between a Tiger and a Wolf, whatever the hell that is.  It was hysterical fun as you can see from the pictures, but I was quite glad young Sir Owen had gone as he gets so excited when he meets the jousters normally, that to see them in their costumes, arsing about in the pub garden I think he might have completely freaked out.  James was in heaven though and laughed like a drain throughout.

 Sir Stephen of Porlock remembering he's a Wookiee Womble (please note departing rear end of Tiger/Wolf hybrid).

 Sir William of Antioch not completely thrilled at the stifling heat.  Not a happy bunny.

Lady Kim and Sir Jasper as a rabbit and an elephant.  No honestly...

And so we came to Sunday, our final day.  The heat was still on, and sadly the cooling breeze had more or less vanished as well.  But it was another good show, with a very vocal Sir Owen in attendance as ever and a very thrilled audience who took part with great gusto.  After the show another drink at the Kentish Horse seemed like the best idea to get over the rigours of the day.  But it was only one, for then James and I had to climb in the car and begin our long journey back to Somerset.  We got back after about two and a bit hours, then watched a load of the Olympic closing ceremony.  James then went to bed but unfortunately was up about an hour later throwing up everywhere.  So my lovely weekend concluded with me on all fours mopping up five big puddles of vomit.  Not how I expected it to end, to be honest.

And the title of this blog?  Vix's description of the speed bumps as you drive into Hever Castle!  They were the "Never Ending Bumps of Doom"!  Brilliant.

Spice Up Your Life. And Up Yours Too.

Good King Hal and his Mother, at Hever Castle this weekend.  I said, Mum, tell me what you want, what you really, really want.  And she punched me in the Adam's Apple and broke my camera.

So after finishing at Christchurch Mansion in Ipswich, it was back to the jousting cavalcade and back to Hever Castle for the Saturday and Sunday, and then a Monday at Leeds Castle.  At the Hever jousting arena the ground was a lot dryer, but it was still too churned up from the quagmire show a few weeks back, and so we were on the temporary arena down near the lake again.  My son James came along and was dressed as a Herald in borrowed gear from the Knights of Royal England, and he looked absolutely splendid.  Michelle and her daughter Victoria were in attendance as well and so we began our long trek across the grounds of Hever to the jousting field.  When we arrived at where the Knights had set up their horse box and HQ in the corner of the field it was rumoured that we had a "celebrity" in for the show.  It turned out to be Geri Halliwell, formerly Ginger from the Spice Girls, along with her PA and her two daughters.  They had been brought over after having had a personal tour of Hever Castle itself and were sat on chairs provided for them by Hever management which some twit had placed far too close to the edge of the jousting arena.  It was hardly surprising that they first moved back a bit, and then Geri ended up joining me in the Royal Box as I continued my commentary.  Sam of Hever came up with a great joke, when he came to challenge Sir Jasper du Barry he rode up to the tilt and I asked him what he wanted, and he said "I'll tell you what I want, what I really, REALLY want..." and luckily Geri laughed at this.  Later when Sam and Dan engaged in a bit of sub-macho chest barging I commented that it was nice to see the "two become one", which again elicited a minor chuckle from the ex-Spice personage. 

That evening after the show there was my sister Cath's annual barbecue and vast drinking session at her home in Stockbury.  It was good to see all my family there and lots of old friends, including dear old Ian Weston from Portals to the Past, plus Darren and Emma from the Tudor Roses and their kids Johnny and Matty.  Sir Owen of Leeds Castle's lovely mummy Shelley was there also.  So all in all, it was an utterly splendid evening with lots of laughs and the finest of company.

Back at the Castle on the Sunday there was a multitude of Spice Girls related jokes in the show - Sir Stephen of Porlock was dubbed Old Spice, Ashley of Hampshire was Posh Spice and Sir Jasper du Barry even became Fifty Shades of Grey Spice.  And amazingly a copy of Geri Halliwell's autobiography had been delivered to the Castle with a personal dedication inside it from Ginger Spice herself, declaring her undying love for Sir Sam of Hever.  He was delighted with his present and has declared that it is something that he will never part with for the rest of his life.  Both days at Hever were lovely and it was good to see Sir Owen of Leeds there for both shows as ever. 

On the Monday morning James and I were back over to Leeds Castle for two shows - both of which were packed out.  Sir Owen of Leeds was inevitably on hand to enjoy the shows, though my parents were due to come along but sadly my Mother didn't feel so well and so they reluctantly had to cancel their visit.  It was good to see Darlene and Becky back at the Castle, and the entire jousting group had a fabulous day.  And not a Spice Girl in sight.  Perhaps we'll get Liam Gallagher next week, or remaining members of B*Witched.  Who can tell...

Muddy Norah!

The near legendary Sir Owen of Leeds Castle and the Broomfield Gate, trying to stay dry with his lovely Mum and a not so lovely Good King Hal.  At Hever this weekend.

You can tell when it is the English summertime.  The heavens open, the rain falls, mostly downwards, though sometimes at high speed sideways, and everyone moans about how miserable they are.  All together now - OH HAPPY DAY!  Well we knew there was going to be far too much rain around as we had a hosepipe ban on.  With various Biblical style floods smiting the country it seemed like a jolly splendid idea to hold a jousting tournament at Hever Castle.

I drove up to my sister Cathy's house near Sittingbourne on the Friday, and with rain hammering on the roof all night prepared myself to head back to Hever Castle for the first time this year.  I drove round to where the jousters had parked their submarine... I mean horse box and was greeted by the lovely Kim, Sir Jasper du Barry's wife.  She looked at my rather pathetic trainers I was wearing and asked me if I had any decent Wellington Boots.  By the time I had walked out to the arena to see Sir Jasper (Jeremy) I could see what she was talking about.  With each squelching step I sank a little further into the waterlogged swamp that was once a jousting tilt yard.  How on Earth they were going to do a show in these conditions was at this moment quite beyond me.  I drove back round to the Astor Wing of Hever Castle where my luxury dressing room (for luxury dressing room please read "disused abandoned kitchen") is situated.  I got changed and was then joined by Michelle Coda and her daughter Vix who were to be my Anne Boleyn and junior herald respectively.  As we sat in the castle waiting to be called the rain simply hammered on the roof, churning up the waters of the moat and frightening away any tourists we could startle with our traditional window game.  But cometh the hour and cometh the Sir William of Antioch, ready to bring us out to meet our beloved public!  We did the usual jokey set up with me addressing the crowds, then we had a special honour as I got to Knight Sam, Jeremy's son, in his new character and costume as Sir Sam of Hever.

We wandered over to the arena and did the show.  It was very very muddy in the arena, a couple of times as we walked in I worried I was going to lose a shoe.  But they have built a new Royal Box for us at Hever and Michelle and I squeezed in there with Kim operating the sound system.  Just to our right was seated Sir Owen of Leeds Castle who you can see above, with his lovely Mummy Shelley, getting very excited and laughing his head off at the antics of Sir William of Antioch and Mungo.

We finished the show and headed back to the Castle only to be accosted by a mad woman with a coach load of Italian teenagers who had only just arrived.  She demanded we put the jousting back on as they had arrived and missed it.  I left her with Jeremy to explain that we had finished the show, the horses were exhausted because of the soggy terrain etc., only to hear her utter the amazing words of "well, that's not good enough".  What can you do with obstinacy and stupidity of that level?

The following day it was much warmer, dryer and generally nice, however it wasn't enough to dry out the jousting yard and, if anything conditions actually seemed worse than the day before.  Some of the horses really just didn't want to take part at all and all of the Knights while fighting on foot kept falling over and sliding all over the place.  But we had a much bigger turn out than on the Saturday, which was fantastic, and the show seemed to go really well, even if I did occasionally keep referring to Sam in his old character name of Sam of Castille and not Sam of Hever.  Naughty Henry.  Sir Owen of Leeds Castle was there again in another fantastic costume and seemed to enjoy himself just as much as the previous visit.

Michelle and I got back to the Castle, got changed and I then began the long slog back to Somerset, but it was a fairly easy run back and by about 7pm I was in Crewkerne and opening a bottle of wine.  Schplendid...

Just a quick question - I have noticed on my Facebook page that far more people read my one or two line postings than these blogs.  Can anyone who reads this via the Facebook page please leave a message after they've read it saying "Done it".  That might get people asking what they're talking about and there is no such thing as bad publicity.  I think.  So let me know if you've actually read this!  Ta.  Back to Hever on Saturday, then I am off down to Sudeley Castle on Sunday.