Bathampton!

The Three Degrees about to launch into an eye-watering version of "Whence Will I See Ye Againe, Hey Nonny?"

Do you like the picture above? Taken at the Mistletoe Fayre at Barrington Court last Saturday where you can see me with Diane Collings and Zarrina Bull either side of me in their smashing frocks! Tuesday evening found me back on Pub Quiz territory as my friends from Barrington Court (Rachel Brewer, Anthony, Sarah and another couple we met at the NT quiz last Friday) took on all comers at the monthly quiz at the Phelips Arms in Montacute. We thrashed the lot of them and will be back sometime in the future for another bash at this popular and tricky quiz.

It was back to the schools again today, and on a day of closed schools and much frothing at the mouth by some people about the public sector strikes, I was booked at a school that seemed completely untouched by the industrial action. It was to be a half day at Bathampton Primary School in, surprise surprise, Bathampton on the eastern outskirts of Bath. This is a lovely spot and I arrived in bright early morning sunshine in this small quaint town, with the school tucked away in a quiet lane next to the Kennett and Avon canal, complete with long rows of brightly coloured narrow boats, some of which had early morning smoke rising from their chimneys. Dotted around were gently rolling hills and it all seemed terribly pleasant. The school itself was absolutely lovely. A slowly expanding old Victorian building with various bits being added to it, including a brand new area for the reception classes that I was to open today. I was very warmly welcomed by the head teacher, a very friendly charming man who kept referring to me as a celebrity - I think he needs to get out more! I was with a nice class today, mostly year 3's with a few year 2's thrown in to keep me on my toes. The opening talk was fun, loud and enthusiastically received. Loads of laughs and some fun ad libs as people made surprised unscheduled appearances in the hall. After the mid morning tea break I was then called upon in my "celebrity" status - I had been asked to cut the ribbon on the opening of the new reception class rooms. I was very honoured to be asked to do this and was introduced to the crowd before making my entrance. There was a big group of dignitaries including most of the Governors I would imagine and the local vicar, as well as all of the children from the other classes. I made a quick speech and then cut the ribbon as various cameras flashed away. The children then sang me a song, which was very nice, before I was presented with a thank you card from the reception class and a bottle of wine! I could get used to this celebrity malarkey! After this interlude I was back in the hall with my group for the Tudor quiz before we launched into a very loud and enthusiastic jousting tournament. It was close all the way, but ended with the Gents storming to a well deserved victory. This makes the score:

GENTLEMEN 9 - 10 LADIES

Good stuff. The children then sang me another couple of Tudor songs and one little lad showed his early talent by playing Greensleeves on the piano, and then that was that! I packed away and headed for home while the children got stuck into a Tudor banquet. What a fantastic lovely friendly school! The drive home was pleasant and relatively quick. Tomorrow I am going to be up and early for another return visit to Dean Close Prep School in Cheltenham. Should be fun. But to Bathampton, thank you for a really memorable and pleasant day.

Cwmduad (and that's not a spelling mistake)

Good King Hal playing spot the castle. And failing, obviously.

I had originally been invited out to Cwmduad near Carmarthen in Wales back in September, however the group that had booked me suddenly realised that most of their members and potential audience were still on holiday, so the show was postponed for two months. So on the Friday just gone I drove down to Newcastle Emlyn, where my parents now live, which is only about 10 miles north of Cwmduad. I arrived on Friday at about lunch time and joined my parents, and my sister Susan for a bite to eat at Harrison's Cafe in Newcastle Emlyn - trust me on this, you would be well worth your while seeking this place out. Great food and always a warm welcome. It was great to see my sister Sue just back from a Rubinoos spotting trip to San Francisco (and you thought I was weird)...

On the Saturday morning my father and I drove down to Cwmduad to see if we could find the Community Centre Hall where I was to do my show that evening. I also had some stuff to post from sales on Ebay and there was a post office in Cwmduad so we could kill two birds with one large parcel. Or something like that. The drive down to Cwmduad from Newcastle Emlyn is nice at the best of times, but this time of year it is wonderful. The trees are a russet red and crowd in round the edges of the Teifi River that meanders alongside the road as you drive along. Lovely! In Cwmduad we popped into the Post Office which is situated in a local B&B. Three people were sitting chatting in the breakfast area. As I walked in one of the men immediately said "Hello Michael!" which astounded me. It turned out these lovely people in the B&B were the organisers for this evening's "Henry VIII" event! As I had pulled up in my father's car outside they had all agreed I just had to be the same bloke they had been talking to via email! After posting my stuff we went up to the Community Hall with them to see how it was set up. The community had done themselves proud, the hall was small, but was brilliantly set out with long tables, secluded lighting, tapestries, heraldic shields and everything else you could imagine for a Tudor banquet. It was going to be a good evening.

With the afternoon to kill, my father and I went down to see the mighty Newcastle Emlyn FC in their latest home match. A humongous crowd of about 25 had turned up and I graciously offered to pay the entrance fee of £2 for me and £1 for my father as an OAP. I told him he could get the tickets next time we go to the San Siro in Milan. The match was against the awesome Newport YMCA, so we knew Newcastle Emlyn should really walk this one. After just 1 minute, Newcastle Emlyn burst through and scored a fabulous opening goal so it was obvious this match was going to be very one sided. And it was. Newport YMCA won 6-1. Newcastle Emlyn were awful and could barely string two passes together and succeeded in making Newport YMCA look like Brazil. With 10 minutes to go, my Father and I were the only two mugs still sitting in the tiny grandstand. Everyone else had given up and gone. I can't wait to go back and see them again!

In the evening, with tickets for the event now purchased for my parents, I drove down to Cwmduad. It was a lovely evening, a great turn out, about 50+ people, many of them in wonderful medieval fancy dress. I was at the head of the table on a grand throne and with the others gathered around me. The meal was a fine rustic vegetable soup to begin, then roast pork rolls with apple sauce, crackling, and stuffing, and then finishing with apple pie. I was on between the pork roll and the apple pie (which sounds messy, but trust me it was OK) and the talk seemed to go really well. All the people made me very welcome, had worked incredibly hard and had made the whole evening a roaring success. Pats on the back all round.

Sunday I had lunch with my parents at Sue and Ian's place (sister and other half, if you were wondering), which was an indescribably tasty vegetarian cottage pie, followed by an apple pie with custard, which was brought alive with some zesty lemon. Great stuff. After that, I sat in the car like Buddha and drove back to Somerset.

This week I am off to Essex today, then tomorrow I am up to Norfolk for two days, then back down to Kent for an appearance at Leeds Castle on Friday night for BBC1's Children in Need. Turn on, tune in and don't blink, cos you might miss me!

Knights in Shining Karma

Meanwhile, back on the shelf, demon plasterer, Hank Corkpopper suddenly devised a whole new version of "University Challenge" for use in zero-g situations. Erroneous society hostess, Hortence Mouth-Breather is on the far right of the photo, brandishing the all leather boil lancing kit she won at the Hay-on-Wye literary festival. When suddenly...

I must definitely still be in a post-Andy Partridge interview fog, as for some reason at the end of the last blog entry I stated I was going to a banquet in Awford in Hampshire. What a coad of lobblers, as the Rev Spooner might have put it. There is no such place, as far as I know. I was actually going to Awbridge, near Romsey. I left with plenty of time to spare, but I got stuck in that famous bottle neck known to all and sundry as Salisbury. So as it was I actually arrived about five minutes late at the school, but it was OK, they all seemed very laid back about it! I got changed and was ushered into the hall where I was confronted by a big group of teachers, school children AND their parents! I was heralded in by two trumpeters and then greeted all the children in their Tudor finery. Next, after taking my seat at the head of the table I was treated to a fine example of Tudor dancing. We then ate a fine Tudor meal of pottage, ladies fingers, marzipan treats and lashings of home made ginger ale, which unfortunately tasted rather a lot like cold lemsip made up with cat urine, however everything else was delicious. I did a small Henry talky bit about the six wives, was then serenaded by a recorder trio, then a flautist, then a violinist, and then we had some study of a big painting of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and almost as soon as it had started, it was over! It was a lovely little interlude at a truly wonderful school.

Early on the Saturday I drove to Wales to spend the weekend with my parents at their lovely new home in Newcastle Emlyn. The weather was mostly awful, but it was lovely to see them both and I ate and drank far too much, so Henry is back on his diet with a vengeance today! We had dinner on the Saturday night at The Daffodil Pub in a village I can't even spell, let alone pronounce. And then on the Sunday, after a nice bracing walk in the morning we drove to Cenarth and the Three Horseshoes Pub where we had a gorgeous roast beef dinner in wonderfully old world surroundings, and all with good beer, bizarrely Christmas carols on the sound system, and a gigantically chested waitress. What more could you ask for?

I drove back to Somerset on the Monday morning, and took the day relatively easily, before meeting up with Matthew Applegate from Barrington Court at the Duke of York pub in Shepton Beauchamp for a wee beer or two. Today, Tuesday I have been back to Trull School just outside Taunton for my fifth annual visit to this lovely school. We had yet another fantastic day, a very small group, only about 28 children, but in superb costumes and all very knowledgeable and excited about the day. Just before lunch we de-camped to the ancient church opposite the school for some suitably silly posed photos of Henry with the children. After lunch we whipped through a fine, fun afternoon that culminated in a very exciting jousting tournament that went to a sudden death race off in the final, which resulted in that rarest of things this year - a win for the gentlemen! This now makes our score:

GENTLEMEN 14 - 23 LADIES

Not quite respectable for the gents yet, but it is slowly getting better. Just watching Wolves take poor old West Ham to the cleaners tonight, then later this week I am back off to Little Parndon School in Harlow on Friday and then back to Wickford Junior in...er...Wickford on Monday. All should be fun. We are also editing the Andy Partridge interview (keeping everything crossed) next Tuesday.

Nelson Junior, East Ham

Good King Hal, halfway through his ventriloquism act, ably supported by Saddam Hussein's balding brother.

Gor blimey! Strike a light, guvnor! Apples and pears, apples and pears! I have not never seen nuffink like it in all my puff! etc etc. But enough of this Dick van Dyke-isms. Yes folks, I was back in the East End - my old stamping ground. I lived in Stratford, London E15 from 1986 to the beginning of 1990 and have rarely been back since. My most regular visit if I do go back as Henry is to the lovely Nelson Junior School in Napier Road, East Ham. I had stayed in Basildon with Amanda and James the night before, and got up early to hit the jolly old A13 to my destination. A 25 minute journey actually took just over an hour - don't you just love the south east of England??? Even though the journey had taken a long time it was still too early for the school and so to get in the mood for things I stopped at a small cafe to buy some breakfast. To blend in I put on my Pearly King outfit and did the Lambeth Walk up to the counter. "Morning Princess" I chortled. "I reckon I'll be having me jellied eels and a mug of Rosie Lee, I perishing will. All together now WE'LL MEET AGAIN, DUM-DEE-DUM, DUM-DEE-DUMMMMM! Cor, luv a duck, them luftwaffe couldn't stop us, eh? Eh?" The Greek owner of the cafe looked at me in stoney silence. "Cup tea and a bacon roll please." I mumbled.

Nelson Junior is HUGE. It is a massive old Victorian building rising to four floors and has a main assembly hall on the first three floors. For once, the lovely Jo Dalton was not with us - she was now a Year 6 teacher and so I was left in the kind hands of Humaira Begum, an absolutely delightful lady. It was a big group, about 120 children and some of them were very challenging, but the day was fun, loud and full of laughs. After a fabulous lunch we had a brief jousting tournament, then a sing song and then a banquet for the children and me. Great fun! The jousting was very loud and exciting and ended with yet another win for the ladies. This brings the score to:

GENTLEMEN 6 - 12 LADIES

I went back to Basildon to see Amanda and James again - we had some lovely fish and chips to finish off the cockney motif to a tee. I then hit the road and headed back to Somerset. I got in about 10pm and slept like a log, but with less bark and wood worm. Tomorrow I am back off to Dunster School.

Oakfield Primary, Totton

Skandia Life! Skandia Life! I was just testing to see whether Paul Stewart's filter is working properly in his office. I used to drive this way every day to Skandia and back. I did it for just short of five years. I must have been mad. Today was an afternoon down at Oakfield Primary School in Totton on the western edge of Southampton. I arrived and was warmly welcomed by all the teachers, some of whom had dressed in some fantastic outfits. They had set up the main hall for a banquet and the children tucked into their food while I did my "Six Wives..." turn for them. After a quick break, the children then did a fine Tudor dance for me, after which we had a rousing jousting tournament. Some fine skills were on show, but it was the gents who galloped away in the main final to win. It was a lovely school and some of the children's costumes were brilliant.

I drove home and got back feeling extremely tired, when I suddenly remembered I had agreed to go over to Barrington to see their village pantomime this evening. It was mainly as my mate Matthew Applegate's wife Sue was starring as Dick Whittington in the pantomime of the same name. I arrived to find the car park at the village hall packed out. I went inside and was soon joined by Rachel, Matthew's assistant at Barrington Court. It turned out Matthew wasn't appearing that evening as he had to baby sit his youngest. The play was great rollicking fun. Amateur in the extreme, fluffed lines, late cues, curtains closing at the wrong time, props not working and some wooden acting - and all the better for it. I loved it. I laughed myself hoarse. Sue Applegate was marvellous as she could sing, dance and act, plus she has a damn fine pair of legs on her and looked very nice in fishnets - well, better than Matthew looks anyway. As with all parochial events like this they had the inevitable raffle with a couple of nice looking bottles of wine and other prizes, so I bought a few tickets. And guess what I won??? Yup, you got it - a Doris Day CD. I was thrilled.

Wiveliscombe tomorrow!

Nelson Primary, East Ham

Last year, at about this time, I attempted to visit Nelson Primary School in East Ham. I encountered appalling traffic and eventually my car decided to die on me and I never got there. It was a mortifying experience. After letting them down so badly you could imagine Nelson Primary never contacting me ever again, but give them their due they are nothing if not persistent. They booked me again. Determined not to get way laid by appalling traffic and even more appalling cars I vowed to leave as early as possible to give me the best chance of getting there in one piece.

I was driving to East Ham from Basildon (well, someone has to) and even though my sat nav said "only 25 minutes" I gave myself nearly two hours to get there. I am mighty glad I did. The A13 was DREADFUL. Two car crashes along the way, closed lanes and snaking traffic all led up to the actual journey taking me an hour and a quarter rather than the 25 minutes expected. As I was so early I popped into a local cafe near Nelson Primary for a bacon and sausage roll and a cup of tea. Very nice it was too.

Nelson Primary? What a school! Fantastic old Victorian building, massive and intimidating looking but packed to the rafters with wonderful sparky children in some fabulous home made Tudor outfits. The teachers were as ever hugely welcoming and fun to be with, especially the hugely wonderful, but petitely packaged Jo Dalton who was as charming, fun and professional as ever. The day seemed to shoot past in a flash, with lots of laughs and fun and ended early with another rip roaring joust which the ladies justifiably won with a quite brilliant display of controlled skill and speed. We then went for a Tudor banquet after that, complete with tankards of apple juice, apple pies, baked apples and probably even more apples. Wonderful stuff!

This weekend, I am at Barrington Court again for the Mistletoe Festival and then next week I am back off down to Dunster on Monday to see Nicola and co, and then off to the Maynard in Exeter to see Keagh and co. After that Leeds Castle and the spectre of Father Christmas rears his head again...

A Banquet at Awbridge near Romsey

I was invited today to go along to Awbridge Primary School in the village of Awbridge near Romsey in Hampshire to attend a banquet! The teacher from this school who had recommended and booked me is friends with little Jo, the charming teacher from Nelson Primary in East Ham. Its a small World sometimes.

I drove down and arrived slightly later than I wished, mainly due to the horrendous traffic in Salisbury town centre (as I remember all too well from my time working for Skandia Life in Southampton). The school was lovely and the teachers very welcoming. I quickly changed and was taken through to the main hall where the children were waiting for me all seated round a big table and in some fantastic costumes. As they got stuck into their chicken legs, rolls and apple pastries, I regailed them with some nice horrid Tudor stories and did some of my usual routine. I then played them some tunes on my dordrecht recorder, and then wandered round the table chatting to the children. They had also brought along some fiendish questions to ask me, and I did my best to answer them. Then the children played me some of their own compositions on their recorders, sang me a wonderful song and then displayed their Tudor dancing skills. Great stuff! I was then given a guided tour of the school by some of the children, met all the other children in the different classes (Hello Harry and your blue painting in year 1!). Then it was back to the hall for another demonstration of their Tudor dance skills, and then it was time for me to go. The two hours had just flown by!

I drove back to Somerset, then popped into Crewkerne for a haircut and some more shopping, and then got myself ready for our visit to my sister in Wales.

Birdwell Primary, Long Ashton

Another brand new school for me today - and what a good one it was! Birdwell Primary School is in Long Ashton on the outskirts of Bristol. I didn't even know somewhere like Long Ashton existed, but it seemed like a really nice place. The school was warmly welcoming and the teachers just delightful. The children apparently had no idea that I was coming along as Henry for the day so it was a really nice surprise for them. The morning whipped through nicely while all around us preparations for the lunchtime banquet continued apace!

After the morning session was completed, and a quick question and answer session in the classroom, we then had a break for about 40 minutes before the specially prepared banquet began. All the food for this wonderful event had been prepared and cooked by the parents of the pupils and it was just spectacular! Delcious and pretty much authentic Tudor food served on real home made trenchers. We all ate and enjoyed ourselves, but by the time we had finished enjoying ourselves most of the afternoon had gone! However, there was still time for a spectacular jousting tournament which a quick, but somewhat erratic gentlemen's team triumphed in.

This was a really special lovely school with some fantastic teachers and some great kids. Thanks for such a lovely day - I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Being Santa. Leeds Castle and Jester Pain.

5th December. I had just done a half day as Henry at Holway Park Junior School in Taunton with some challenging kids and was due to be heading off ASAP to Kent to stay at my sister’s house before beginning my stint as Santa at Leeds Castle the following day. I had so much still to do that there was little chance of me shooting straight off, so I headed home and got things ready at a much statelier pace. I waited until Amanda and James were home before hitting the road. I got to Cathy’s near Sittingbourne and settled in for the night on my luxury sofa!
6th December. My first day as Santa. The grotto at the Castle is wonderful. It is housed in the old Tennis Pavilion with a skating rink under canvas alongside it and a refreshments tent. You enter through a big old gnarled wooden door to a waiting area with toys scattered about for the children to play with and with a DVD playing in the corner with a Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer film showing. You begin the walk through to Santa by sauntering past the old animatronics reindeer from last year. Through the arch leads you to a “Winter Garden” with a bridge over a “light waterfall” and a figure of a small girl skating (she packed up working after only a few days and was never properly fixed!). You then go past the best part of the tour – a full size “Toy Machine” with a conveyor belt churning out presents ready to be wrapped up. You then walk down a small tunnel lit with blue lights, turn right and there you are in Santa’s study with me sitting on a throne, with a fire place and some chairs for the children to sit on. They can chat to Santa before getting their presents. This year I am handing out Penguins. The opening couple of days are something of a “phoney war” period with long parts of the day with very few punters coming through.
7th December. After finishing at the Castle today I am off to the Hazlitt Theatre in Maidstone to appear at a party for the children of employees of a local company and to hand out presents in my capacity as Santa. I am driven to the event by a taxi driver who tells me the company in question is a debt collection agency. I do worry somewhat that this invitation to appear as Santa is just a cunning ambush ploy by disgruntled creditors of mine. At the event at the Corn Exchange part of the building, the children come up to a raised stage area to meet me and I hand out specially wrapped presents handed to me by a couple of elves. The children then pose for photos with me, taken by a photographer who prints them immediately. The actors appearing at the Panto at the Hazlitt come over to meet the children as well. Some of them pose for photos with me, including a couple of very leggy fairy ladies not wearing very much. This is the highlight of the evening by a long way! For the next few nights and to give my sister and her husband a break, I am staying at the castle. My room is called the “Creve Coeur Room” and is right up in the battlements of the main part of the castle. It is freezing cold outside and equally freezing inside when I get back from Maidstone. I phone down to “Housekeeping” to see if someone can sort out the lack of heating in my room. The phone rings a couple of times and is answered by a lady with the words “pantry – what?” in a very angry sounding voice. Now I could have been anyone – President of Peru, Princess Alexandra, or even a proper paying guest, not the free-loader I actually was, nevertheless she should have been careful. I explain where I am and my lack of heating. She interrupts me.
“You HAVE heating in that room.” I can see my breath as steam as I speak.
“No I don’t…” I start to say. She won’t have it and once more re-asserts that I do have heating in my room. I invite her up to my room to prove otherwise. She grudgingly offers to go off and talk to the butler and then promptly hangs up. Now I am no expert on customer relations, but I have a feeling that her performance was not straight out the manual. About 20 minutes later my radiator starts clanking and gurgling and finally some heat starts to seep out. By bed time the ice has melted and even the Polar Bears are complaining about the heat.
8th December. The first Saturday gives me an impression of what to expect as it gets closer to Christmas. This is like Zulu only with small children and their parents replacing the South African warriors. We are practically forming the wagons into a circle and hurling the penguins at the customers to hold them off. I end up with only about 10 minutes lunch break. Amanda and James come up to see me, as do my parents, Amanda’s parents, Amanda’s sister Maria and two of her children. I see them so fleetingly and it is only later that it dawns on me that the next time I shall see them is Christmas Eve.
The following two weeks chug slowly by. Weekdays are mostly quiet, weekends almost unbearably busy. I spend most of my evenings staying at Cathy and Julian’s, but I am due back to stay at the Castle again for the 20th to the 23rd inclusive.
On the evening of the 13th I have been invited to appear at another banquet at the Castle as Henry. I had been contacted by Hospitality a few weeks previously and Kerry there had mentioned something about the evening ending with me reading a ghost story to the punters after their meal. I had heard nothing since that phone call. Once at the castle I had made several attempts to hear from Hospitality about what the evening was going to comprise of, but again I had heard nothing. I wandered up to the Castle about 6.30pm and was shown to a side office which I could use as a changing room. After a quick cup of tea and a change I was out and about as Henry. I spoke to the temporary head butler and she informed me that they wanted me to meet and greet in the main library as guests entered. This was good fun and everything was going fine, when suddenly there is a commotion in the main hall and Davey the Jester enters. I have worked with this man before and he is a very fine Jester indeed, but by God is he loud. He hollers and shouts at a few of the punters and then wanders off towards the banquet hall. I continue being kingly and meeting and greeting when suddenly the lady butler asks me to announce dinner and progress everyone down to the Banquet Hall. I do my big booming announcement and lead them off playing my little Dordrecht recorder at their head. As I approach the Banquet Hall I can see Davey with his hands on his hips staring at me. I just walk past with the rest of the guests, lead them into the Hall and invite the honoured guests to be seated. As I walk outside Davey grabs me.
“What’s your game?” he shouts. “I progress them down from the library!”
“I was asked to by the staff…” I begin to explain, but Teddy has well and truly left the Pram by now.
“I always lead them down to the Banquet Hall. You’ll have to wait till the end and progress them back, pal.” Let me explain a little about Davey – he is from North of Watford and has that really grating Lancastrian drawl for a voice. Now I would be quite happy to apologise for progressing the guests down without realising it was his special-wecial jobby-wobby, but one thing guaranteed to put my back up is for some Lancastrian half wit to start referring to me in a derogatory way as “Pal” and telling me I had done wrong when I had done nothing of the sort. A magician had been booked as well apparently. He has only been booked for an hour, so after an hour and after not finishing going round the table completely he just clears off – much to the chagrin of some of the customers as they haven’t seen him in action. Davey is still in full war cry making frequent references to me as “pal” again and going on about people taking other people’s work. Subtle is not his nickname. It also turns out Hospitality have booked a harpist for the night but she has just not turned up full stop. The guests in the Banquet Hall are freezing cold. There is a big fire ablaze but it is not up to heating the full room and by now the ladies in their nice little frocks and dresses are fully wrapped up in coats and hats as they eat their meals. Arguments continue among the waiting staff as to whether they can risk extra heating in the ancient wood panelled Banquet Hall. And of course, can you get hold of anyone from Hospitality about this total cock up of an evening? No of course you can’t – all have long since left their offices and their mobiles are turned off. Davey finally shoves off with a few more unsubtly barbed remarks in my direction. I progress the now almost cryogenically frozen guests back to the Yellow Drawing Room, with promises of nice after dinner drinks and a roaring fire. The drinks are there, but the fire may have roared earlier, but it is barely whimpering now and has all but gone out. Pretty much like my enthusiasm for Hospitality and their banquets. Feeling pretty hacked off with life in general I wander back to the side office that I am using as a changing room and, admittedly rather childishly, kick the door open with a mixture of frustration and anger for the way the evening has gone. The door shoots open a short way before hitting something solid which makes a sort of “oomph!” noise. It turns out to be the Jester in mid-clothing change. I got him! So every cloud does have a silver lining! I get back to my sister’s house at around 11pm. It has been a long, long day. Hospitality had all but burnt their bridges with me by letting their only good contact there go (the divine Nikki Dorkings), but this evening has been the final straw, and I let Kerry know all about my feelings the next day. She makes a few noises but none of them conciliatory so forget it. And lest you think I am being a little uncharitable in my views of Davey, this man is a Vicar by day. You gotta love that Christian attitude of his.
The rest of the Santa weeks go by slowly but surely. I haven’t been away from my wife and son as long as this before and I cannot wait to see them. All the staff and helpers with the sainted Darlene Cavill and the Special Events team are fantastic and I would like to make it clear here and now that Darlene, the lovely Helen Budd, the wonderful Jean Beaton, Coralie, Carole, Helen, Helen, John, Dallas, Ian, Richard, Barry and everyone else who contributed to helping me be a successful Santa, it was a pleasure to work with you all. You are stars. And to Howard and Sue for the food, drinks and mulled wine – thank you as well!
I stayed at my sisters until the final few days when I slept in the Culpepper Rooms near the Fairfax Hall Dining Room. These rooms were very cosy and warm but unfortunately were too close to the Fairfax Hall when the evening bands were playing. All I can say is that most of them started at about 10pm and had amazingly loud bass amps. Thankfully I was so tired that I slept through most of it.
I finally finished at around 2.30pm on Christmas Eve and headed straight for home. I got to Clapton at about 5pm and was never more pleased to see my lovely wife and son. A fine Christmas Day was spent with Amanda and James, and Amanda’s parents.

The Fold School, Hove

My first visit to a school in East Sussex got off to a less than auspicious start. I had been hoping to stay in Sussex with my friends Viv and John, but had failed to get any response from them - until late on the Sunday night announcing they had just arrived back from a weekend in Suffolk. So it was me up at the crack of dawn to drive the 130+ miles to Hove and back in the day!

I was just getting over a strenuous weekend. My parents had been down to stay with us, plus on Friday I had been in hospital for an operation on my head (no, not searching for my brain) and I was still a little sore this Monday morning and with the stitches still in place!

My alarm went off at 4.30am and after a quick clean up I was on my way by 5.20am. It was plain sailing until I got as far as Portsmouth when I got stuck in traffic and crawled most of the rest of the way in horrific weather conditions. I arrived at the school at about 8.15am. I was met by Mr Bartram, fully dressed up in his Tudor finery! The Fold is a tiny school, but absolutely delightful. The children were brilliant and were dressed in some fantastic costumes. The morning seemed to shoot by and by now it was lunch time and the kitchen staff had come up trumps with a proper Tudor banquet! We ate, drank and made merry, well as merry as you can with apple juice!

The afternoon joust was another classic with the ladies strolling to a fairly comfortable win. After dishing out the winners documents and packing my car I was on my way. Luckily the journey home was OK. Fairly heavy traffic but moving most of the time. I got home just after 6pm.

I have tomorrow off, thankfully, however any ideas of a rest have been quashed by my wife announcing that we are going Christmas shopping in Yeovil. Hey ho. My next show is on Thursday in Milverton.