Redstart School, Chard

Good King Hal saying "Get orf moy land!" to a group of terrified children. It didn't work at the Monasteries either...

It had been over five years since my previous visit to Redstart School in Chard. I had last visited them in January 2005, so this was my (at the moment) longest gap between visits to any school. It was good to be back! I had no clear memories of the place at all, and as my blog hadn't even started back then I had no notes to go back to even if I wanted to try and jog my memory! Well, I needn't have worried. It was a delightful school with some of the most responsive children I have worked with for a long time. It had the added bonus of only being about 20 minutes up the road in Chard from where I live.

It was just under 60 children today and they were great fun. You could tell it was very nearly the end of the year for them - they positively bristled with energy and excitement! The teachers were lovely as well, very welcoming and chatty, and it really was a pretty perfect day all round! At one point in the morning I did one of my usual tired old jokes that I have been pedalling out for years - and the children and staff laughed AND gave it a round of applause. Now that definitely does not happen every day! The morning did seem to bomb past at a rate of knots and before I knew it, it was time for lunch. A delicious meal of roast chicken was gratefully wolfed down by a hungry King, before it was time to don the robes again and head out for the afternoon session. Well it was a rollicking post lunch session capped off by a highly spirited jousting tournament that was won, inevitably, by a very good ladies team. This being the final school show of the term this makes our final score for the year to be:

GENTLEMEN 24 - 28 LADIES

As suspected, the ladies have romped away with it and won the overall crown for this year. Well done to them, but well done to the lads who pulled it right back in the last few weeks. Thank you Redstart School for a really splendid end to the season!

The Henry School Days at Barrington Court have now had their first proper confirmed booking after the test day the other week. Paulton Junior who I visited a couple of weeks ago have decided to come down to Barrington Court next June for their next Henry experience! Good on them! Any other schools keen on a Tudor Day in a superb Tudor environment, drop me a line!

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...

A Great Entertainer Takes His Last Bow

I got a text message the other night from my old friend Sara Turner back in Essex. She and I would regularly go to the Star pub in Ingatestone High Street on Monday evening's to listen to live folk music played by a random group of musicians - nothing was really planned or rehearsed, it was just a case of who ever turned up, then played. Among the great musicians who turned up regularly were Dave Wilcox - banjo player supreme; Alex Mihailovic - a superb fiddler; Mike - a great guitarist, mandolin player and vocalist; and many more. Some evenings there would be just one musician, other evenings there would be ten or more, all crammed into one corner of this funny little old pub and belting out great music. But of all the attractions, there was really only one true "star" - and that was Gus.

Gus Dallaway was originally from Trinidad and had come over to the UK in the 1950's. He worked for British Rail as a line man and lived in Margaretting, a small village in Essex just to the south of Chelmsford. My grandparents and my father lived in Margaretting and knew Gus very well, particularly from his time playing as a member of the village cricket team. Gus was clearly not the world's greatest cricket player, but he brought infectious enthusiasm to the game and, as an added bonus, each week would make up a calypso about the previous week's match and would bring in each member of the team into his songs. I remember Gus from when I was a young child as this larger than life colourful character who permanently seemed positive and a force for good.

When I met up with Gus again in the 1990's at the Star Pub in Ingatestone it was a revelation. Gus would not turn up until about 9.30pm at the very earliest, he would sit at the bar and have a couple of drinks, but would then launch himself onto the "stage" with the band, and just take over! His staple songs would include "Yellow Bird", "Pick a Bail of Cotton", "Bless This House" and, best of all, an absolutely heart stopping version of "Old Man River" which may sound like a bit of a cliche, but Gus' version was so truly moving as to reduce grown men to tears (the author included).

As Gus got older, so his rheumatism and arthritis got worse and he finally decided he would like to go back to the warm climate of Trinidad for his final years. In 1996 a massive farewell party was organised at The Star with all the musicians playing for Gus. Sara and I got there and the place was packed - but of Gus there was no sign. The band started playing and the evening got going with a swing, but still Gus hadn't arrived. Finally a shout went out that Gus had finally got to the pub. A hush descended on the bar, the band stopped playing and the lights were dimmed. The double front doors of the pub slowly swung open to reveal Gus, silhouetted against the freezing cold Essex night, dressed in a long Matrix style black leather coat right down to the ground but done up tight to his neck, and on his head a white fur Russian military hat. There was a stunned moment of silence as everyone took in this awesome image, then a small drunken voice near the back of the room said:

"F*ck me, it's a pint of Guinness." The room erupted into laughter. It was a magnificent evening with a party that will live with me until the day I die. Gus was on marvellous form and totally dominated the entertainment all night. It was a truly fitting send off for one of the finest natural showmen and entertainers I have ever had the pleasure to meet. And so Gus departed our shores, leaving the country a little duller for it and settled back in Trinidad.

A few years back my parents were on a cruise in the West Indies and one of the stops was at Tobago, Trinidad's sister island. They phoned Gus and were going to try and meet up with him, but unfortunately it never came to fruition.

And so I got Sara's text message two days ago. There had been an announcement in the Essex Chronicle newspaper that Gus Dallaway had passed away at the ripe old age of 89 on the island of Trinidad. I sat quietly and remembered back to all those old days back at The Star in Ingatestone, the fun evenings, the entertainment that Gus had given to everyone and the pleasure he brought to so many people's lives. And most of all, to those hushed moments when he would perform "Old Man River" and get to those magical lyrics near the end:

But you and me,

We sweat and strain,

Body all aching and wracked with pain,

"Tote that barge!"

"Lift that bale!"

You Get a little drunk,

And you land in jail.

I gets weary

And sick of trying

I'm tired of living

But I'm scared of dying,

But ol' man river,

He just keeps rolling along.

Gus Dallaway, rest in peace my friend.

Henry Day at Barrington Court

Barrington Court - a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very nice place.

This is the day Matthew Applegate and I had been planning and looking forward to for quite some time. The first of the big Henry VIII Days at Barrington Court. We were expecting about 60-70 children from the combined schools of Barrington, Ilton and Shepton Beauchamp, but instead we got over 100! Some had come in costumes which were great, others were in their brightly coloured school uniforms. There were familiar faces - Matthew's two daughters, Hannah and Isobel, plus my friends from Kingstone, Ali and Ian's daughter, Amy who goes to the Shepton Beauchamp School. Matthew, his assistant Tamsin, and various other volunteers at Barrington worked their socks off in the morning getting the extra chairs in the kitchen where I was going to do the majority of my presentation. We could not have done the day without them.

We were running the day for two reasons - one, to see if the Henry VIII Days that I do in school could be done at Barrington Court as well, which I think we proved that they could. And secondly, to get some publicity for future Henry VIII Days, to which end I had contacted the Western Gazette, the Chard and Ilminster News, View from Crewkerne Newspaper, BBC Somerset and even Points West, the local BBC Television News. The TV News people had told me that our event was in their diary and that unless something significant occurred there was a good chance they would come and cover it. Well, I am assuming Mrs Trubshaw of Radstock ran out of cat food, or Mrs Osborne turned her ankle over in the High Street in Frome as we saw not a glimpse of the BBC today! They missed a great day.

We had great fun in the morning though I think some of the really young children from the schools were a bit too young for the opening talk and some struggled to concentrate on the whole thing. But the vast majority of the children were fantastic! After a nice relaxing lunch we had a fun session with the stocks in the kitchen, and then had an unbelievably noisy jousting session in the main hall. It was a rip roaring affair with noise, shouting and the bizarre feeling of the sprung dance floor in the hall literally bouncing up and down with the excitement of the children. A gents team combining the talents of all the schools sauntered to a very classy victory! This added to our annual score now makes it:

GENTLEMEN 23 - 27 LADIES

The day finished and I bade the children farewell at the main door of the Court House. Matthew Applegate and Tamsin came and stood next to me.

"How the hell do you do that every day?" Asked Matthew. I just do, I suppose! I've got used to it over the previous six years. But each and every day is different and fun, which is why it never becomes a chore. So if any teachers out there fancy the idea of having a really amazing Tudor Day with Henry VIII for their Key Stage 2 Pupils in the surroundings of Barrington Court House then either contact me through my website of www.goodkinghal.co.uk or contact Matthew Applegate, Visitor Services Manager at Barrington Court on 01460 243124.

Paulton Junior, World Cup Exits and The Emma Britton Show.

Good King Hal about to try the Cambridge Diet. When he's finished that he'll try and eat Oxford.

A hectic few days began with me driving down to Southampton again (I had only just been down to see some old friends from Skandia the previous couple of days) but this time to pick up my parents on their return from their Queen Mary 2 voyage up to the Norwegian fjords. It was a glorious day and we stopped at the Angel Pub in Hinton on the way back for a very nice lunch. I spent the following Saturday not really doing much apart from occasionally opening the window, turning my fan up to full blast and then going "corr" with buckets of sweat falling off me. Now this WAS global warming and it was happening in my front room.

On the Sunday morning I got up extra early and headed over to Ilchester to the car boot fair held over there. I found a few bargains and also found that Greg Stephens, late of United FM in Crewkerne had a stall there, so I had a quick chat with him when I had finished having a potter about. But I was getting myself ready for the afternoon and England's impending match in the World Cup against Germany. Surely we could raise ourselves for this match? Well if you saw the debacles then you'll know we most certainly couldn't. England played like a bunch of pub footballers who had never set eyes on each other before and were deservedly thrashed 4-1 by a far superior German side. When England did get home today there was a nice message waiting for them at Heathrow from David Blaine, the illusionist. He congratulated Wayne Rooney for breaking his world record for doing absolutely nothing in a box for several weeks.

I took my mind off the awful World Cup drubbing by appearing on the delightful Emma Britton's latest "Have Your Say" show on BBC Somerset on Monday morning. I was on with a very pretty young lady called Kathryn who ran a horse riding holiday company in the Quantocks. We had a real laugh and a good show, which you can hear for the next seven days if you go to the BBC Somerset website and click listen again for the Monday morning show. I was on for the first hour.

Tuesday I was back at one of my favourite schools in the south west - Paulton Junior in Paulton, near Bath. This is such a fabulous place to come and do a show - the children are so well behaved, the teachers are very friendly and chatty and the whole atmosphere of the place lifts your heart while you are there. We had a typically fun day, lots of laughs, some great costumes for the children and some very good examples of Tudor knowledge. The afternoon session was particularly insane and entertaining and ended with another desperately close jousting tournament that really did go down to the wire. This time the Gents just stole victory with literally the last half second of the contest. It was incredibly close and very exciting. This now brings our score to:

GENTLEMEN 22 - 27 LADIES

Wonderful.

Tonight I have been to Barrington Court for their annual volunteer's barbecue. There was a wonderful hog roast, some live music from a cool trio and lots of old friends. Not just Matthew Applegate and his lovely wife Sue and children, Hannah and Isobel, but there was the wonderful Rachel Brewer, her nice chap, Anthony, the indefatigable Trotts, and everyone else at this lovely National Trust house that have become such good friends of mine over the years. I am back at Barrington Court tomorrow for the first of our special Henry Days at the Court House with the combined children of Barrington, Ilton and Shepton Beauchamp schools. Should be fun! Watch this space...

Thundersley Junior, Essex

Good King Hal's saucy advert left in prominent telephone boxes in London. It didn't work.

After all that 50th wedding anniversary celebrating etc., it was nice to get back to being a Tudor despot again. I was back in Thundersley, sandwiched as it is between Southend and Basildon in south Essex, at Thundersley Junior School for a 4th annual visit. I drove to Essex on the Thursday and firstly joined Amanda and James at SNAP in Brentwood. SNAP stands for Special Needs and Parents and is a charity based in Brentwood. It is a voluntary organisation supporting parents and carers of children with any special need or disability. James attends as he has recently been diagnosed with autism, and he absolutely loves going there! It is a wonderful place and they do all sorts of fun and educational things with the children. James spends an hour there playing with his friends he has made and gets so much out of it. The parents and carers can sit and chat with each other over welcoming mugs of tea or coffee. I really can't praise this place enough and the wonderful work they do!

On the Friday I was down at Thundersley for the Henry day. This is a fantastic school, great kids, very friendly teachers and always a good laugh. It was a full and exciting day that we had and about 99.9% of the children had dressed up in terrific costumes, as had all the teachers. The morning went swimmingly and we were soon back in the hall for the afternoon session. We had an absolutely deafening jousting tournament which culminated in yet another victory for the ladies. They just keep on winning! This now makes our year long score:

GENTLEMEN 21 - 27 LADIES

Closer than I would have expected, but I don't think the ladies can be caught now. I got the children to roar their support for England for the match against Algeria in the World Cup that night. After the show, Amanda, James and I drove down to Kent to see my sister Cathy to watch the England match on her big TV. To be honest I wish we hadn't. England were appalling and could not have hit the backside of a cow with a banjo from now till Doomsday. Professor Stephen Hawking on a space hopper would have had more control of a football than these overpaid embarrassments.

We had a nice Father's Day weekend including lunch at Pizza Express on the Sunday for which Amanda had found an on-line voucher that allowed Dad's to eat their pizza for free! Sounded good to me! Eventually I set off for Somerset on the Sunday evening, but with it being the late last knockings of the 20th June it was obvious that Stonehenge would be a no-go area (I think Doctor Who might agree with that having seen what happened to him there on Saturday night's episode!) so I did a dipping detour, down the A343 into Salisbury and then back out again onto the A303 much further down. It worked a treat and I was soon home.

I have a meeting with Matthew Applegate over at Barrington Court this morning, then on Wednesday I am down to Southampton for a Skandia Life lunch with Sue Marsh and Ruth Le Mesurier, then back to Southampton again on Friday to pick up my parents from their Queen Mary excursion to the Norwegian fjords!

Death of an English Pub

I went out for a beer with Matthew Applegate this evening. We do this quite often, discussing future events at Barrington Court and just having a good chuckle or two. Tonight was going to be one of our usual evenings, but turned out a bit different. We were due to meet at our usual pub, the delightful Duke of York in Shepton Beauchamp but when we arrived there the car park was full to bursting and the place was packed. So I drove us both over to East Lambrook and the Rose and Crown there. This is a very "nice" pub, all dining facilities and expensive beer. But it was generally quite busy. I managed to inflame the wrath of the landlady when I asked for the sparkler to be taken off the beer pump. (Sparklers are put on to real ale beer taps to force air into the beer and give it a foaming head - but it also makes the beer go like that execrable John Smith's Smooth Flow crap, so beloved of Northern Beer drinkers. I wanted a pint of beer, not something I could wash my socks in). Apparently me asking her to take the sparkler off the beer tap appeared to be the social equivalent of me leaning over the counter, slipping a £20 note down her bra and asking her for a lap dance. She started to lecture us about beer and the pub trade, and went on and on and on. This woman barely paused for breath. Eventually after a couple of beers we'd had enough and we headed back to the car. This time we went to the Royal Oak at Barrington. What a sad sight. This is a pub that is dying, slowly and obviously. Punch, the group that owns the pub, are trying to sell it and there is a big over-bearing "FOR SALE" sign on the outside. There is a temporary manager in the place, running it for the owners. When Matthew and I got in there, there were two men having a pint in the main bar, two lads playing pool out the back, plus us two. And that was it. Both the other pubs we had seen that evening (and all in the locality) were very busy, but the Oak was like the Marie Celeste. The two men having pints finished and were gone, and the lads playing pool followed soon afterwards. Before 10pm Matt and I were the only people in the place. Now the Oak could be a fabulous pub - Barrington is a beautiful chocolate box English thatched cottage village with the added attraction of Barrington Court being in the middle of it. But the Oak just doesn't seem to work - it has attracted a bad reputation, and in the pub business that is very difficult to lose. What would be ideal is a consortium of local people to club together and buy out the pub and run it properly as a good old fashioned local public house. Are there any takers out there to help save a small part of our English heritage? It would be nice if there was.

Not Six Wives - Just One Happy Couple!

My father, looking amazed as, exactly as it was 50 years ago a ventriloquist has just shouted "I do" and he's had his chips.

A wonderful weekend has just been had! It was my parent's 50th wedding anniversary celebrations in Wales. They re-newed their vows on Friday 11th June, exactly 50 years to the day from their original ceremony, with my cousin Jack Elwin officiating, exactly as he did back in 1960! We had dinner as a big group on the Friday evening at the wonderful Emlyn Arms Hotel in central Newcastle Emlyn. Then on the Saturday there was a big party at their house with a multitude of guests - all friends or relatives, some of whom we hadn't seen for years. It was a truly magical weekend and proved just how strong my parents love is for each other, even after all these years. They are an inspiration to us all.

On the Sunday they travelled to my place in Somerset and then on the Monday morning I drove them down to Southampton and the Queen Mary 2! They are now on their new honeymoon sailing round the beautiful fjords of Norway. Fantastic! And here are some more photos of the great weekend. The next Henry outing is this Friday and a return visit to Thundersley Junior in Essex.

Cathy Martin revealing how many crates of champagne she has just drunk.

Many of my parents friends "having it large" at the 50th Anniversary party.

A Tudor King, soon to upgrade to being a Four-Door King.

More Jousting Pics!

Top master of ceremonies and voice over artist, Roland, showing you the amazing things you can achieve with an old pair of curtains and a bowl of bananas.

Sir Jasper du Barry and Sir William of Antioch squinting at the camera in front of a medieval parking lot.

Sir Stephen of Porlock and Sir David of Kent attempting to rustle some horses.

This is for Jen and Sophie at Leeds Castle - ladies and gentlemen, I give you heart-throb, Royal Knight and tongue tied wallflower - Sir Ashley of Hampshire!

Henry's Royal Jousting Tournament, Leeds Castle. Smashing.

Henry VIII, proving what a stunningly wonderful chap he is by appearing in full colour, while Leeds Castle can only manage sepia. This pic was taken during the week of the jousting tournament by the very wonderful Nigel Wheal. I have to say this as he has my Mother hostage in a safe house on the Lincolnshire fens.

I suddenly realise how old I am becoming. I went to a wedding reception near Sherborne on the evening of Saturday 29th May. Had a fantastic evening boogieing the night away and singing my head off at a really great 80's disco. Then I woke up on the Sunday morning. Ouch. Everything hurt. And I mean everything. Even the toast I had for breakfast was in pain. (That's a French pun on the word pain. I know you're out there, I can hear you breathing). Anyway, after staggering out of bed I packed a big suitcase and then drove up to Essex for an evening with Amanda and James. I parked in the usual side road near their house and settled in for the evening. Halfway through the evening there was a knock on the door. It was one of Amanda's neighbours asking if our car was alright as there had been a collision in the street with some little chap in a car driving into a parked car. Amanda quickly nipped downstairs and checked what she assumed was our cars, but everything seemed OK. So we all slept soundly and happily. The next day we went downstairs to pop over to Amanda's parents when I noticed a note stuck to the windscreen on my car. I suddenly felt a cold chill. The note was nicely written and apologetic and said my car had been hit and badly damaged, and the person who left it had left their name and phone number. I walked round the back of my car. Oh dear. Bumper smashed, rear off-side lights smashed, exhaust system damaged, rear panel pushed forward, even possibly damage to the rear wheel. Oh bother, I sweetly murmured.

So instead of seeing my in-laws I was back at Amanda's on the phone, calling insurance companies. To cut a long story mercifully short my car was not safe to drive any distance, and probably illegal anyway, so Amanda and James had to drive me down to Kent and my stay at Cathy and Julian's place while I was working at Leeds Castle.

Leeds Castle! Two words guaranteed to put a smile on the face of any Henry VIII look-a-like. But a bit different this year - for the first time ever I would be doing an event at Leeds Castle without the ever presence of Helen Budd. She was sorely missed, I have to be honest, but Darlene and her wonderful team did sterling service throughout. I almost couldn't believe it was a year since my last appearance at the Royal Jousting Tournament. I was back on with The Knights of Royal England group, led by the noble Sir Jasper (aka Jeremy). They are a lovely group and nearly all of them are friendly and chatty. It was very good to see Roland again, who plays a wonderful central role as the commentator/master of ceremonies. There was also the deeply wonderful Sir Stephen of Porlock and his lovely wife - who, with a name like that, very obviously come from deepest darkest Somerset. Sir Stephen is a great character, strongly helped by the fact that he looks like the lovechild of a cross between Chewbacca the Wookiee, and Dusty Gibbons from ZZ Top.

Just like last year the weather started badly - cold and damp on the Tuesday. But suddenly - WHAM! Summer was back with avengence. It ROASTED. Each and everyday it got hotter and hotter. On the Saturday (easily the hottest day) I very nearly passed out while in the Royal Box. The heat was incredible. After that show I staggered back to my little hideaway on site and poured two bottles of ice water down my throat without pausing and then poured a third straight over my head and costume to cool myself down.

Most of the people and kids we met were wonderful. Sweet charming and dying to get their pics taken with Henry VIII. I even met a family group from Kazakhstan who knew who Henry VIII was! Surely a first. Amanda and James came down on the Thursday, and had a wonderful time. James even got to meet the Knights and their horses which he really enjoyed. In the tournament he had watched, Sir Jasper had lost out to Sir David of Kent in the finale. James took great delight in telling Sir Jasper to his face "better luck next time!" with an evil grin on his face! Some other friends of James and Amanda, Yolanda and her children, came down on the Friday with a big coach group. The only child I would happily have boiled in oil was a little lad who had been bought a toy bow and arrow set from one of the stalls and decided to shoot me in the face with it from point blank range, before running off. I watched where he went, and clutching the offending arrow wandered over and reported him to his Mother. He was suitably admonished. Then when we did the "parade of the children" in the arena before the next show, guess who was stuck right in the middle in front of my Royal Box? Yup, the errant young archer. Funnily enough he couldn't make eye contact with the King!

It was a great week away being with the Knights again, plus also seeing Cathy and Julian. My car is now being repaired down in Wellington in Somerset and I have a fantastic courtesy car - a virtually brand spanking new VW Golf Turbo Diesel Estate, in black, with tinted windows and all mod cons. Hopefully I should get my own jalopy back sometime in about 2012.

Next weekend - another big event! My parent's 50th wedding anniversary down in Wales! It should be an absolutely wonderful weekend.

Broughton Astley, Leicestershire

Broughton Astley (left), Rick's older brother, a mere nano-second before being run-over by bloody great car. Rick contacted him in hospital and told him he was never gonna give him up, never gonna let him down, never gonna run around and desert him, which I am sure you will agree was of great comfort to him as they tried to erase the tyre tracks from his trousers.

Leicestershire. What did I know about Leicestershire? It's cheese was red, David Gower used to play cricket for it, the Battle of Bosworth Field raged in it, and the Download Festival frequently rages at Donnington - which is in Leicestershire. Here endeth the lesson.

I had been booked to appear at the Orchard School in Broughton Astley, a village in Leicestershire which sounds remarkably like Rick Astley's ne'er do well older brother. I'd been recommended as one of the teachers at the Orchard has a sister who works down at dear old Knightwood School in Chandlers Ford in Hampshire and had very kindly informed her sister how good I was. How kind! My original plan was to travel up on the Monday afternoon, stay overnight at a Travelodge and then pootle up to the school fresh, awake and not knackered from a long drive. Wrong! I had looked up Travelodge on-line to see if their much trumpeted "bed for £19" offer was still going strong. Apparently not. As it is nearly half term the general price for a room (and remember this is just a room -nothing else) seemed to be about £55+. Not my idea of fun, so I decided to get up very early and drive up to Leicestershire and back in the day. Also not my idea of fun, but cheaper. Therefore I was up at 3am, in the car by 3.45am and soon rocketing my way up the M5. The much discussed "warning light" which had mysteriously turned itself off at the weekend, suddenly re-appeared approximately 75 miles up the road. But what the heck could I do, apart from press on. So I pressed it on, and it looked lovely. I arrived at Broughton Astley at about 6.45am, bought some petrol for the return journey, a newspaper, and some brekkie and parked up in a side road. After reading all about England's abysmal match against Mexico (How on Earth did we manage to win 3-1? Is this a good sign for the forthcoming World Cup? Can we really play that badly and STILL win matches?) I then had a little snooze in the car, which was just what I needed. Actually, what I really need is a night out with Lisa Rogers, but that just isn't going to happen is it?

Arriving at the school I was warmly welcomed by some really cool teachers. Such nice people! And all dressed up to the nines as terrific Tudor wenches - who needs Lisa Rogers? (ME! ME!) One of the ladies had a fabulous home made costume on dressed as a Tudor Queen. Her brilliant billowing dress allowed her to simply glide across the floor. I told her she looked like a Dalek, which was meant as a compliment. She rather ruined the illusion of Tudor grace with graphic details of her struggles to use the disabled loo, the only toilet large enough to welcome her and her hooped skirts.

Well we had a fabulous day - this is such a lovely school I cannot even begin to tell you how wonderful it is. The children were brilliant, hilarious, sparky, eager to learn and all of them in fantastic Tudor costumes as well. They had just been on a recent visit to the site of the Battle of Bosworth Field and were therefore already hugely enthusiastic about Tudor history before I turned up. The morning seemed to just shoot past - lots of laughs were had, especially by the teachers and classroom assistants! After a gorgeous lunch of roast pork, I was back on again and the whole day culminated in a really pulsating jousting tournament. The two gents teams who contested their semi final were, not trying to sound rude, truly awful. The two ladies teams were brilliant, so it was really obvious where this final was going to go. Yes, the gents roared to a great victory, coming from behind to pip the ladies on the line! See!? What the heck do I know! This now makes the score:

GENTLEMEN 21 - 26 LADIES

On leaving the school at the end of the day I managed to drop my stocks and break them, which did cause me to mutter a few words of choice Anglo-Saxon language. The drive home was remarkably easy and despite not leaving Rick Astley...sorry, BROUGHTON Astley until about 3.30pm I was pulling up outside my place in Crewkerne as the 6pm news came on the radio. Wonderful. So was going to bed that evening. Even though something was missing - LISA ROGERS! Down boy!

I next have a meeting with Matthew Applegate at Barrington Court (it involves a pub so there might not be THAT much work discussed), then next week I am at Leeds Castle for a Jousting Tournament from the Tuesday to the Sunday. Come and say hello! Especially if you are Lisa Rogers.

That's Entertainment...

Good King Hal trying to sell the title deeds of Nonesuch Palace to an impressionable dwarf and her chum.

Thursday evening and I am driving over to Barrington to go to the Village Hall and watch their local Am Dram's latest offering - a variety show called, of course "Show Time" featuring musical numbers, comic sketches and... other things. My old mate Matthew Applegate was working on the ticket sales as head of front of house, while his wife Sue and their two very cute young daughters were starring in the show itself. This was wonderful local village entertainment, of the sort so richly described by Laurie Lee in his book "Cider With Rosie". Fluffed lines, wobbly sets, curtains opening and closing at the wrong time, a sweating compere in ill fitting tuxedo verbally fighting with a crowd full of people who know him very well and enjoy barracking him at every opportunity. Great stuff. One of the opening numbers in the show is a medley of songs from "Grease". Fine, except of course this is an English village amateur dramatic society and the only men in the cast are aged either about 12 or 75. We are therefore treated to the sight of six 30-something women in bobby socks and neck scarves, singing about "Summer Loving", while two chaps resembling their elderly Great Uncles sing the accompanying lines of the teenage boys in the Thunderbirds gang. Surreal. One of the old chaps was wonderful. I couldn't take my eyes off him in the whole cast numbers - he clearly had no idea what the words were to most of the ensemble numbers and was placed very firmly at the back of the stage, but I could still see him opening and closing his mouth with not a vestige of a normal word escaping him. Just like watching the Tory MP John Redwood, when he was Welsh Minister, desperately trying to look like he knew the words to "Land of my Fathers". There was a fairly amusing 'Allo 'Allo skit, an excruciating Abba medley and a quite staggeringly racy version of "Hey Big Spender" from "Sweet Charity". Just a wonderful evening. I laughed like a drain.

On the Friday I drove up to Bristol to the Felix Road adventure playground where my friend Holly Crossland, and her cute daughter Isis, frequently meet up with their home education group. I had been asked to come along and do a Henry presentation for them. On the way up a warning light appeared on the dash board of my car. I wasn't sure what it was but the car seemed to be going OK, so I pressed on. I found the playground quite easily and was soon saying a big hello to Holly and Isis, and Holly's mum who had come along for the show! You can see Holly and Isis in the picture above when we first met at the North Somerset Museum in Weston Super Mare back in 2006. Isis is now 8 and is a charming young lady. And you can see why I am always pleased to see Holly... I set up and was soon on in front of a group of about 25 families. Some of the children were a little...ahem...over excitable shall we say, but they all seemed to enjoy the show and the music. I finished off with a brisk jousting show which was won by a gents team, but I can't really count it in the overall score for the year as it was just a bit of fun really. After getting changed and a quick cup of tea, I was back in the car. The warning light was still on, so whilst trapped in non moving traffic on the M5 south, I decided to have a look in the car manual as to what the light meant, hoping against hope it wouldn't be anything major. The warning light actually meant "get your engine looked at". Oh, conkers. When finally back home in Crewkerne I phoned up Popular Motors in Merriott and booked the car in for a check up on Monday morning. Of course today, the light has gone out. Typical.

I had a meeting with Matthew Applegate at Barrington Court today about a possible Tudor Banquet at the Court House sometime in December. It is looking promising.

Tuesday I am up at Broughton Astley in Leicestershire for a first visit to the school there. Should be a good one.

Norton sub Hamdon & Brent Knoll

Not the two famous actors, Norton sub Hamdon and Brent Knoll, but Good King Hal (above, right) with his Father, who lives in Tudor England and is of little help.

Norton sub Hamdon is not, as the name might suggest, a slightly camp actor with Shakespearean tendencies, it is in fact a very pretty little ham-stone village nestling at the foot of Ham Hill, a huge Iron Age hill fort that has sadly been mostly quarried out of existence. In this village there is a Ladies Group, and one of their number had heard about my Henry VIII shows and had requested some time back, that I attend one of their meetings as a guest speaker. I was due to appear for them at the Reading Room in Norton sub Hamdon, but I wasn't quite sure where that was. Now luckily for me, Norton is not very far from where I live and is also pretty small, so finding it shouldn't have been too much of a bother. Wrong. I drove through the village during the day trying to find it's location, and drove up and down the main drag several times not spying anything that might lend itself to being a Reading Room. There is a very good little shop in the heart of Norton, so I popped in and asked them for directions and a very nice lady came out of her Post Office cubicle and showed me - I was virtually next door to the Reading Room, and honestly, if you didn't know where it was you were just as likely to go straight past it without noticing. Now I knew where it was I could come back in the evening for my performance without worry.

The Reading Room is quite small when you get inside, but it had great atmosphere, particularly as about 20 ladies from their village group had crammed in to see my talk. Well it went really well, they were a lovely group, ready to laugh and also very friendly and chatty. After my talk I hung around for a cup of tea and a natter with some of the ladies, but soon I was back home to the flat in Crewkerne and getting my stuff ready for the following days show in Brent Knoll.

Now if you don't know where Brent Knoll is, then drive up the M5 from Taunton and you genuinely cannot miss it. It looms out of the landscape, a huge great lumpy green hill rearing out of the Somerset levels. Brent Knoll is old English for "beacon hill", but was equally known in ancient times as the "Isle of Frogs". On it's craggy top are the tell tale lumpy bumpy shapes of an Iron Age enclosure. The village of Brent Knoll nestles at it's base and is quite pretty in a sort of elongated way. The school in the village is, at the front, a tiny old Victorian building, but has been expanded on greatly to the rear in the last few years. I was very warmly welcomed by the lovely teachers and head teacher of the school and we soon settled down to a really pleasant Tudor day. The children in the group numbered about 45 and were great fun - lively, excitable and always ready to laugh. One young lady, who told me she wanted to be a Doctor when she was older, had remarkable amounts of Tudor knowledge. Perhaps she should be a historian instead! Lunch was a delicious cottage pie, but we were soon stuck into the afternoon session. The jousting was great, simply because every single race came down to a single quoit finish which made it incredibly exciting. But once again, the ladies showed their class and stormed to a well deserved victory in the grand final. This now makes the overall year-long score:

GENTLEMEN 20 - 26 LADIES

Thursday has been spent trying to catch up on paperwork, but I did get a chance to record a new voicemail message for my answer phone - give it a buzz if you wish to hear it! This evening I am over in Barrington supporting Matthew Applegate and his lovely wife, Sue, in their work with the local Am Dram Society. Should be a fun show. Tomorrow, I am up to Bristol for an appearance for my lovely friend Holly Crossland at her Home Education Group. I will be with them from 12 noon onwards for a quick chat and a jousting session. I have never done a home education group before, so I hope they enjoy it.

St Michael's School, Twerton

Good King Hal sings "Only a Nose - I Picked It For YOU!" before being rendered unconscious by a large truncheon twirled by a member of the constabulary.

It had been a busy few days, up and down to Essex to see James and Amanda, and down to Leeds Castle in Kent for talks and other things. One of the main reasons to visit Leeds Castle was to say a fond farewell to Helen Budd, Darlene Cavill's wonderful assistant. Helen began at Leeds only a few months before I did my first show there, and has been an ever present since. She is taking up a job with English Heritage based down at Dover Castle, so hopefully we can work together again. Darlene, Helen and I went to a small cafe in Bearsted, a village near the castle for lunch, and were joined by Scott, another long time worker at the Castle who won't be around any more. We had a lovely time but sadly it was soon time to go. Leeds just won't be the same without Helen.

After a few more days with James and Amanda it was back to Somerset and a visit to me from my parents, down from Wales for the weekend. We had a lovely time including a particularly fine evening meal on the Saturday night at the Dinnington Docks pub.

Monday I was back on the road again for a third return visit to St Michael's School in Twerton, near Bath. One maniac VW driver aside (some complete tit in a black Passat who thought winding roads and traffic behind slow moving lorries was an excuse for suicidal over-taking procedures on bends, hill summits etc.) the journey was going swimmingly. I had even timed my journey to begin just as stark raving bonkers (and jolly thirsty) early morning DJ Sarah Kennedy was signing off - always good news! However, all of a sudden, with no prior warning whatsoever, three quarters of the way up the A37, the road was suddenly shut. I followed the diversion signs and the words of wisdom from my sat nav but soon found myself crawling along down tiny one track lanes, however I eventually arrived at the school. As ever at this wonderful place I was very warmly welcomed and we were soon underway. We had great fun and the children showed some very good Tudor knowledge. Some of their coat of arms designs were looking pretty good as well! A delightful lunch of minced beef fajitas and a green salad was rapidly followed by the mad afternoon session. It went fantastically and culminated in a very cocky and certain Gents team being well and truly trounced by a more than capable Ladies team! This now makes the score:

GENTLEMEN 20 - 25 LADIES

Still too close to call at the moment.

When I finished gigs in the old days, I always used to fight like hell to get away from the school ASAP so I could get home to my wife and son, and cuddles and welcomes. But nowadays, now I have no one waiting for me when I get in, I don't feel the urge to get away as before. Why go home if there is nothing worth waiting for you when you get there?

So bearing this in mind I was initially not that bothered about the south facing A37 likely to be a pain again. But it was for more of a pain than I had bargained for. I followed the diversions again, only this time for some reason about 6 miles up the road, they just stopped! I was stuck in the middle of nowhere, and just at this moment my sat nav decides to go "mental mental chicken oriental" again, and locks up solid so that I can neither switch it off or on. And I was not the only one with the same predicament. Small back lanes around the Shepton Mallet area were gridlocked with irate lorry drivers and people with huge caravans, but then they deserve to suffer. I finally managed to coax my sat nav back into life and found my way home. The empty flat just served to bring my mood lower, and so I decided a Chinese takeaway would cheer things up. Wrong. Local Chinese is shut due to "short staffing". A lack of Chinese workers? But there are BILLIONS of them!? They could have found just one person to cook me some crispy beef and noodles, surely? I ended up with distinctly underwhelming fish and chips from a very underwhelming chippy.

Tomorrow evening I am giving a talk at Norton sub Hamdon for their local ladies group - should be fun. Then on Wednesday I am off down to Brent Knoll for a first Henry visit to the school down there.

Right just time for some Mighty Boosh to try and cheer me up, and then bed. Night!

P.S. And England THRASHED TRASHED AND CRUNCHED the Aussies out of sight in the final of the World Cricket T20 tournament. It always a delight to watch the Aussies take a fearful biffing in any sport, but when it is us dishing it out - even better!

Press Release!

This is a press release going out today to various TV stations, radio stations and newspapers advertising the upcoming new Henry VIII Days at Barrington Court in Somerset.

An Exciting New Project at Barrington Court

Barrington Court, near Ilminster in Somerset, was the first house acquired by the National Trust back in 1907. Fully restored to its Tudor glory, the house has been delighting thousands of visitors a year ever since, with its fine architecture, beautiful rustic setting and delightful Gertrude Jekyll-inspired gardens. But now in 2010 comes a brand new exciting venture for this most venerable of old buildings.

Mike Farley is the UK’s number one professional Henry VIII look-a-like and re-enactor. He has been delighting audiences around the country for over six years now with his brilliant interpretation of our most infamous of monarchs. With his booming voice, wicked humour and uncanny resemblance to the King, he is in great demand at country houses, museums, and castles, and with radio and TV companies throughout the land. Mike’s specialist Tudor Days in junior schools throughout the country are enormously popular and he has brought Henry to life in almost 700 schools and to countless delighted pupils. Now Mike and his company, Past Presence Ltd, are combining with the National Trust and Barrington Court to bring his full Tudor Day to life in this most magnificent of settings. Schools can now come and experience a full on Tudor Day with Henry VIII in the sumptuous surroundings of Barrington Court.

The first of these exciting days takes place on Wednesday, June 30th 2010 when the junior pupils and their teachers from Barrington, Shepton Beauchamp and Ilton Schools step back in time and meet the King in person! And the National Trust and Past Presence Ltd would like you to be there as well, to share this exciting moment with your viewers, readers and listeners, and to see a whole new chapter beginning in the long history of Barrington Court! A story with everything, local interest, history, humour and a really quirky angle!

For more information either call Mike Farley from Past Presence Ltd on 01460 271623 or speak to Matthew Applegate, the Visitor Services Manager at Barrington Court on 01460 243124.

Quest for the Croucher!

I love cricket. I just think it is the finest game ever invented - a subtle mixture of sporting skill and mental toughness. Probably why I was so crap at it when I played! Much as I love watching cricket these days, being a historian at heart I am mostly attracted to cricket's past, and in particular the period of it's history referred to by all sundry as it's "Golden Age". This was the 15 year period leading up to the First World War where the superstars of cricket bestrode the Earth like Titans. And their names and deeds are still held in awe to this very day. Just mention names like W.G. Grace, Bobby Abel, C.B. Fry, K.S. Ranjitsinhji, Sydney Barnes, Charles Kortright, Wilf Rhodes and Jack Hobbs to a cricket fan and you will see their eyes light up and words of praise will come pouring forth.

For me, one man sums up the joy of Edwardian cricket more than anyone else. Gilbert Laird Jessop, affectionately known to all fans of cricket from that era as "The Croucher" for his hunched stance at the wicket when batting. He was initially famous as a tearaway fast bowler, but as his career blossomed he became World Famous for his destructive, aggressive batting style. No matter what the opposition or the situation in the match, The Croucher would launch himself at the bowling attack facing him, and destroy them with a bewildering array of attacking strokes, savage cuts and fierce drives. He had all the shots in his locker and was not afraid to use them. As he played by the sword, so he sometimes perished by the sword. For a leading batsman his career and test averages are surprisingly ordinary, but this is mainly because he attacked from the first ball he received and never seemed to bother about playing himself in and could often be out cheaply. But when he got in... wow.

In 1894 he made his first-class debut for Gloucestershire, and soon made his name for aggressive batting and taking over the play. In one match in 1900, for Gloucestershire against the first West Indian team to tour England, he made 157 in an hour. In 1902 against Australia at the Oval on a brute of a wicket, he went in to bat when England were 48 for five, needing another 225 to win. He made a century in 75 minutes, a feat described by Wisden as “what would have been scarcely possible under the same circumstances to any other living batsman”. It is still to this day the fastest hundred scored by any batsman in an Ashes Test Match. And still there was more - in 1903 against Sussex he made 286 out of 355 in just three hours and scored a half-century in just 12 minutes against Somerset a year later. How much would he be worth to the money laden teams of IPL T20 cricket if playing today?

Last night, finally driven to bed by the sheer tedium of the General Election coverage, I found myself sleepily flicking through Christopher Martin-Jenkins' book "The Top 100 Cricketers of All Time" and read his review of Jessop. It was in this write up that I discovered that Jessop spent his final years living in Fordington, a suburb of Dorchester, and is buried in St George's Church there. This is just down the road from me, probably about 20 miles at most. So when all my other chores were out the way this morning I drove down to Dorchester and sought out St George's Church. Fordington is a lovely sleepy leafy few lanes on the east end of Dorchester and the church of St George is not easy to miss. Inside are a wonderfully inscribed Roman tablet from the 1st century AD discovered in the grounds of the church, plus a couple of photos from the 40's and 50's of the then Vicar of the Parish, a certain Gilbert Jessop Junior! I wandered round the back to the slightly dislocated graveyard (it is across a car park and away from the church itself for some reason). I knew I was onto a cricket winner as soon as I began looking at the gravestones. Some of the first names I came across were Gooch, Gower and Chappell, but at first, no sign of Gilbert Jessop. The graveyard is long and L-shaped and on a gently sloping patch of ground. And it is big and after about an hour of fruitless searching I thought I would never find the final resting place of The Croucher. But then, right next to the path leading to a gate on to a main road and by a small privet hedge I found the grave.

It was overgrown, surprisingly small and quite sad really. And on the grave there was not a single mention of his great cricketing heritage and status, just his name and year of birth and death, and the same for his wife. I felt quite rotten for having come all this way and then not brought something with me, even some flowers or something. Or was I just being a bit soppy? As you can see from the picture on the left the grave has a small cross standing over it, then lying on the main body of the grave is a small stone shield with the inscription on it. It looks tired and in need of some attention - perhaps I shall go back and weed the plot and just tidy it up sometime.

I shall leave the final word on Jessop from the author, Gerald Broadribb who wrote a fine book about him called simply "The Croucher". Take it away, Gerald!

"It is strange and sad to think that if a new English batsman came to light and scored innings at even half the pace of Jessop he would soon be hailed as an outstanding player.
Let us remember the glories of Gilbert Jessop on May 19th (Jessop's birth date), and resolve to bring to our own cricket some of his zest and spirit of attack."

West Pennard School & The Emma Britton Show

Good King Hal, demon topiarist, peruses the small ads while a lady hops past on one leg. Again.

I did my latest Mike Farley Show on United FM on Sunday evening, however it may prove to be my last, so watch this space for any more news. Then after a very nice Bank Holiday Monday spent not doing very much at all, I was off on the Tuesday morning back to one of my favourite schools to visit - West Pennard near Glastonbury. I was first invited to this school some years back by the sainted, slightly insane and eccentric gentleman that is Ian Gouge. Ian is still at the school but has moved up with his class year on year and is now with a year six group. Alex Wheat had booked me for his Year 4 class today and it was a wonderful day all round. It was a bright sunny morning, but with a surprisingly cold wind that bit into you. My sat nav yet again decided to go a bit Tonto and for some reason took me to a small back road in the village of Baltonsborough and announced happily that I had arrived. No I hadn't. I needed to be in West Pennard about three miles up the road. But I got there in the end.

We had a fine morning, lots of fun and laughs and, despite the children only just starting the subject, they displayed remarkable amounts of Tudor knowledge. After a very pleasant lunch of pasta bolognese, a green salad and a nice crisp apple, I was back with the group in the hall for the afternoon. The jousting was very exciting and lively, with the gentlemen continuing their recent very fine form with another spectacular win. This now brings the overall score to:

GENTLEMEN 20 - 24 LADIES

This is getting very very close indeed and is almost too difficult to call which way it is going to go now. I will next be Henry-ing on the 17th May at St Michael's School in Twerton.

This morning I was in on the Emma Britton Show on BBC Somerset again for the Have Your Say panel. I was on with a lovely eccentric lady from Corfe near Taunton. It was a fun show and Emma was, as ever, a delightful host and very professional as well. We particularly enjoyed one of the people who phoned in as one of our topics was when were you last up all night - the lady in question reckoned she was always up when the moon was full. I asked her if she turned very hairy and attacked sheep. She didn't laugh. Ah, well.

Haylands School, Ryde, Isle of Wight

Good King Hal gets all arty. This is what the exit from Lymington Harbour looks like at just after 5am. Trust me on this. (But it is a nice photo, isn't it?)

Back to Haylands School in Ryde on the Isle of Wight yesterday, exactly a year after my last visit. I had noticed that from checking on-line with the ferry from Lymington to Yarmouth how the prices went up as time got later, so in a fit of some kind of dementia I had booked myself on the 5.10am ferry. What the heck was I thinking? This meant I had to get up at 3am in Crewkerne and be on my way by 3.30am. However, I made it on time and soon me, my car, one other car and about four lorries were slowly slipping out into the dark waters of the Solent. I went up on to what they laughably called a "Sun Deck" and watched the early morning sunrise. I took a few piccies, as you can see above, and also got waved at by a yacht full of what appeared to be young ladies sailing in to Lymington in the weak morning light. I say appeared to be young ladies as they were all clothed head to foot in what appeared to be full survival suits, so they might have been jolly friendly chaps instead. I wandered back inside and sat looking out of the windows as Yarmouth drew closer.

The two cars were let off the ferry after one lorry, but it was a lorry I ended up following all the way to Newport. My sat nav then had a bit of a "mental-mental-chicken-oriental" moment in Newport and for some reason known only to herself, took me down various tiny back roads and housing estates before we emerged once more on the road to Ryde. I found the school down it's tiny side lane, but found it was a good hour and half before the place was likely to burst into life. I needed some petrol, well, to be honest the car did, but I digress. I soon found myself driving into the car park of possibly the largest Tesco store I have ever seen. This place looked like an aircraft hanger. I kept expecting the whole front to swing open and see the prow of the R101 nudge out. I chose to go to Tesco's as I knew their fuel would be the cheapest around (tight-fisted swine that I am), but I had been shocked by just how expensive the fuel on the island was. Anyway, fully fuelled up I headed back to the school and was soon inside and setting up for the day.

Just like last year it was great fun. A really excitable and bright group of year 3's, some charming lovely teachers and teaching assistants, and just a pleasurable day all round. It was also the first time really in 2010 where I felt truly hot and uncomfortable in the costume - must mean summer is a-coming! After a nice lunch and a chat with a really charming lady who's husband works for the National Trust (I urged them both to visit Barrington Court when they get a chance), it was back for the afternoon session. Again much laughter and fun, and then a truly epic jousting tournament, which once more the gents won! This now makes our year-long score very interesting indeed.

GENTLEMEN 19 - 24 LADIES

The next chance the ladies get to pull away again is on May 4th at West Pennard School near Glastonbury.

I drove back to the ferry at Yarmouth and was soon back on the mainland. A fairly bother free trip back to Somerset and I was at home. In the evening I think I was supposed to meet Matthew Applegate at the Duke of York in Shepton Beauchamp for a drink. So I went over. Matthew never appeared, so I wondered if I had got the wrong pub. Perhaps we were going to meet at the Royal Oak in Barrington. I drove over there. Nope, he wasn't there either. I went home, pausing only to enjoy the wonderful friendliness and ambiance of Peejays Fish Bar in Crewkerne. And so to bed. In the words of Jane Austen "blimey, Mr Darcey, my dogs are barking and I am totally knackered." That was a long day.

Walkabout, Radio & Hugh Sexey!

Good King Hal (centre), wrestling with a Yeti in a beret and his girlfriend.

Dear old Barrington Court! I hadn't done a walkabout for a while there, but Matthew Applegate and I have been hatching plans of late. As the main house is still bereft of furniture we have been pondering ways of utilising the space. One idea has been to have Henry Days at the house - just like the days I do when I visit schools, only in the wonderful surroundings of this glorious Tudor building. I had designed some leaflets advertising the events and so on the Sunday I wandered the corridors and gardens of Barrington handing them out. I met some lovely people, including one couple from South Woodham Ferrers in Essex which took me right back to my days working there for the East Essex Adult Community College in the William de Ferrers School in Trinity Square. Ah, happy, penniless days.

In the evening I was due back on air at United FM for the evening Mike Farley Show. However, due to circumstances beyond my control, mostly technical problems, though other things were occurring, the show had to be postponed at the last moment. So I won't be back on air with the show until next Sunday. Hopefully there will be a change in time as well as the show will be broadcast at the more friendly time of 9pm till 11pm. I shall keep you posted.

Monday morning I was up early again for a return visit to the delightfully named Hugh Sexey Middle School in Blackford near Wedmore. This was my fourth visit and as ever it was wonderful. It is always a big group, but they are so friendly and love joining in that it makes it a really easy day. It was nearly 160 children today and we had a riot. The teachers were lovely, so friendly and charming, and couldn't have been more encouraging and positive. Just what I needed after Friday. The day seemed to simply shoot past and, after a delicious pasta lunch, before I knew it we were at the jousting tournament. It was a closely fought contest, but the gentleman's team came away with a fine victory. I think this was mainly due to one little lad who I think was possibly the finest jouster I have seen in my six years of being Henry! He simply flew up and down the course and never missed a single target. Brilliant. Our score for the year now is:

GENTLEMEN 18 - 24 LADIES

I have today at leisure, which is nice. Then tomorrow I am on the road again heading back to Vectis, the Isle of Wight for a return visit to Haylands Junior in Ryde. See you there!

St Bernadette's School, Bristol

Good King Hal (left), trying to remove his foot from his mouth.

It is always with some trepidation that I visit Roman Catholic Schools in my guise as Henry VIII. Now even though Henry split from the Catholic Church, he remained a devout Catholic to the end of his life, but I am sure that won't cut much ice with some Papal fans! I am always very aware of Henry's reputation and I was similarly nervous approaching St Bernadette's School in Bristol yesterday. But I was very warmly welcomed by nearly everyone - it was a delight. Some of the female teachers there were absolutely lovely, and the Dutch gentleman, Walter, was a splendid chap who even laughed at my Walter joke. It goes something like:

A man at an airport sees another man carrying a very long pole. He approaches him and asks: "Are you a pole vaulter?"

"No" says the other man, "I'm German, but how did you know my name was Walter?" (Ba-doom-tish! Thank you very much, I am here all week!)

Well the day went marvellously - 60+ children all of whom seemed to adore the day and showed that they possessed terrific senses of humour and tremendous knowledge of the Tudor period. In fact I can safely say that by the end of the day I was very much aware that 99.9% of the people at St Bernadette's had really enjoyed the day. Yup, I was made very aware. It was just what I needed. One of the lady teacher's, Teresa, went so far to ask her class after the end of the show how good I was on a scale of 1 to 10, and the entire class shouted out 10. I can do no more than that.

Still, you can't please all of the people all of the time, no matter how hard you try.

The jousting was a lively and entertaining affair, which I assume didn't upset anyone, and the grand final was between two fabulous teams that ended in a narrow victory for the gentlemen. This now makes the year long score:

GENTLEMEN 17-24 LADIES

Interesting, very interesting!

This weekend I am back doing The Mike Farley Show on United FM between 10pm and midnight on Sunday night, though I am hoping to move it back an hour and make it a more easier listen for people on a "school night". Watch this space for more! I am at Barrington Court on Sunday between 1pm and 4pm for a Right Royal Walkabout, so if you read this blog, come and say hello. Then on Monday I am making a return visit to Hugh Sexey School in Wedmore for more Tudor nonsense!

Do I Look Like an Out of Bounds Kind of Guy?

The Jolly Roger. Oh, hang on, it's actually a picture of Mike Farley smiling with his arms crossed.

What a week. After the success of the previous week's Mike Farley Show I was in quite a buoyant mood. It couldn't last. I had to drive up to Essex to pick up James, my son, for our week in Wales, so at the top of the A303 I stopped for petrol. Both of my cards were rejected by the machine and I had no other way of paying. How embarrassing - being made to feel like a criminal is not fun. This had never happened to me before and I really hope with all my heart that it never happens again.

James and I were on our way down the M4 the next morning. Almost as soon as we were out of the Basildon conurbation, James was telling me how "bored" he was, and how much he was missing Mummy already. Luckily he got into his PSP games, and after stopping for lunch at a service station on the M4 he was soon armed with a copy of a Ben 10 magazine which kept him occupied as well. Our time in Wales was delightful with lovely weather and several days out, including a train trip to Cardiff so that James could visit the Doctor Who exhibition there. Honestly. It was for James. Not me. I wasn't excited in the slightest. OK, it was as much for me as it was for James, but it was great fun with some great exhibits and James was only slightly scared at one point which was the Dalek Battle room which was loud, dark and full of very angry Daleks! The only down point on the day was the awful train journey there. This is the height of the school holidays and how many coaches had the train company put on? Two. When the train arrived at Carmarthen station (where we got on) it was packed already, and at each extra stop more and more people got on. James and I had to stand all the way to Cardiff Central next to the disabled loo. We were packed in like sardines and to be honest it looked more like a train somewhere in the third world, except we didn't have anybody sitting on the roof, but I wouldn't have blamed anyone if they tried. And for this joy I had forked out over £15 for the privilege. Thank the Lord there wasn't an accident, and even more thankfully there wasn't a buffet trolley on the train as he would have definitely had to have gone on the roof. We finished our week with a day down at Tresaith which is a delightful secluded beach that not many people know about - so keep it to yourself and tell no one! As we came to leave on the Saturday morning James was now sobbing to his Nanna that he didn't want to go home and see Mummy! How things change in the space of four days! After a long drive back (I had to go back to the service station on the A303 and settle my bill!) James had changed his tune again and was now delighted to see his Mummy again. After dinner and Doctor Who I was then on my way back to Somerset.

Sunday was my second Mike Farley Show on United FM in Crewkerne. My guest this week was Marion Draper, local journalist for the Pullman's View From Crewkerne Newspaper. We had a great time and a good chat. Loads of emails from friends and listeners. Among the odd music I played this week were "Busy Doing Nothing" by Dave Stewart and Barbara Gaskin, "Hard Times of Old England Retold" by Billy Bragg and the Imagined Village, "My United States of Whatever" by Liam Lynch and "Teddy Picker" by The Arctic Monkeys. I shall be back next Sunday for another show between 10pm and midnight and you can listen in on www.unitedfm.co.uk

And if you're wondering about the title of this posting, it is my wife's favourite quote from Doctor Who and was spouted (if that is the right word) by Captain Jack Harkness, a quiet chap who you might not have noticed.

More Henry nonsense this week with a visit to St Bernadette's School in Bristol on Friday.

The Mike Farley Show

Mike Farley's mic, called Mike the Mic. I'd like to travel one day...

United FM in Crewkerne launched on Friday the 9th April. I was there for the original opening part. My parents had come to visit as well as it was my Father's birthday, so they got dragged along to the radio station HQ. We were there early and met David Laws, the fine MP for Yeovil, however we had to push off before the main, rock'n'roll guest, John "Rabbit" Bundrick, "live" keyboard player for The Who, turned up to cut the ribbon. It was a good launch and everyone seemed in high spirits. Later on the Friday my sister Cathy and her husband Julian turned up from Kent for a long overdue visit to my flat in Crewkerne. We had dinner with my parents at the Duke of York Pub in Shepton Beauchamp where I had celebrated my 43rd birthday in February. On the Saturday we all ventured over to Ilminster as my parents wanted to pay their usual visit to the august portals of Dyers Department Store there. We had a lunch at Bilby's in the High Street and then my parents headed back to Wales. Cath, Jules and I then drove over to Barrington Court and enjoying the fine weather had a nice leisurely stroll round the houses and gardens. We finished with a drink and a slice of lemon drizzle cake at the Beagles Cafe.

That evening we headed over to the Dinnington Docks Pub and all had vast platefuls of delicious faggots, mash and gravy for dinner. These plates were huge and really were just too much on top of everything else we'd scoffed and drunk through the day. We got back to my flat and sat around like three stone Buddhas.

On the Sunday morning Julian and I headed over to Ilchester and the car boot sale over there. I bought a few bits and pieces but we were soon home. A day of leisure was then had as first of all Cath and Julian watched some motorbike racing - don't ask me what it was or where it was but it seemed to go on forever. After that we watched Manchester City thrash Birmingham 5-1 which was wonderful to behold! Then we watched incredulously as Portsmouth beat Tottenham Hotspur 2-0 in the FA Cup Semi Final. Wonderful, amazing and totally unexpected. Cath particularly enjoyed looking at David James in his tight pink shirt.

This evening I did my first "Mike Farley Show" on United FM. I broadcast from 10pm to midnight and had a great time, really enjoyed myself with Cath and Julian sitting in the studio with me and joining in the banter. I played some of my favourite songs, such as "My Pink Half of the Drainpipe" by the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, to "All In My Head" by Kosheen, to "Earn Enough for Us" and "Then She Appeared" by XTC. The two hours seemed to shoot past, and I can't wait to do it all again next week! Hope you get a chance to listen next Sunday - 10pm on www.unitedfm.co.uk - you know you want to!

Off to Wales for the week now with James. Should be fun!

Parson Street School, Bristol

"Look at the size of those soda breads!" Cried Good King Hal.

The evening before had been pretty good. I had watched with increasing delight as Bayern Munich stuffed Manchester United with virtually the last kick of the game in the Champions League. This is the sort of thing Man Ure do to opposing teams with depressing monotony, so to see them on the receiving end for a change was just a sheer delight. And to see dear old Sir Alex Ferguson going a violent shade of puce at the end was even more wonderful. And so I hied me to bed with a big smile in my heart. That was when I started coughing. I have a cold and a bit of a chest infection at the moment, and I found that every time I laid down in my bed it would induce more coughing. By 2am I was ready to give up, especially considering I was due to get up at 6am to drive to Bristol. I shuffled back into the living room with my duvet and snuggled into my big squashy chair. Luckily I was soon asleep, but before too long the alarm was going.

The drive up to Bristol was fairly easy, but when I got to the proximity of the school the traffic was appalling, added to which with the cold and lack of sleep I was feeling pretty rough to say the least. The last thing on Earth I fancied doing at that precise moment was a Henry VIII show. I had trouble getting into the school as the gates were locked but I was let in by a very nice lady and started unloading the props. However bad I was feeling I was soon very glad I had come all this way. Parson Street School is a lovely place, great kids, lovely teachers and a nice atmosphere all round. We had a great, lively morning session, the only draw back being that the main hall we were in is like a thoroughfare for the whole school and people were coming and going all the time, which proved to be a bit distracting for everyone.

After a delicious lunch and a nice friendly chat with the lovely Joanne Wallace (the teacher who booked me), we were back in the hall (after a slight hold up when a group of excruciatingly cute nursery class children came in for a very short PE lesson - they were doing marching at one point, so I played my recorder for them which they loved!). The afternoon session was even more raucous than the morning, and the final of the jousting had two of the finest teams I have seen in a very long time going head to head. It was finally won by a faultless ladies team who never once put a foot wrong. This now makes our year long score up to:

GENTLEMEN 16 - 24 LADIES

On the long drive home I stopped briefly for petrol on the A37. My God! It was FREEEEEZING! This is supposed to be British Summertime, isn't it? The wind was howling across the station forecourt, and sleety snow was spattering against me and the car. Added to which the guy who served me seemed to be completely deaf. Every time I said anything to him he said "Huh!?", I'd repeat myself and he'd say a sort of vague "yeah...." which didn't induce any confidence that he could actually hear me.

For Easter weekend I am off back to Essex to see James and Amanda, and no more Henry-ing until some possible BBC filming later in April. Watch this space...