Prettygate Junior, Colchester

Good King Hal showing off his latest pick'n'mix selection of English Queen's.  There is Iberian Crisp, Six Fingers of Boleyn, Dr Quinn Medicine Woman Surprise, Flanders Mare Fondant, Howard Tart and Parr-line (geddit?).  I'll get my coat...

Back on the road and back to Essex, this time for a trip up to Colchester, fair Camulodunum, and a visit to Prettygate Junior.  Most of my communication with the school had been through a lovely lady called Kim Bellotti and shortly after my arrival I finally got to meet her.  This was a lovely school - two classes of year 4 pupils giving a total of about 65 children.  They had already done a lot of research and work on their Tudor topic and were very keen to get involved.  They had all dressed as Tudor's as well, and for once most of them had decided to dress as poor Tudors.  The costumes were great.  There was one little lad there who was very very thin, and Tudor peasant outfit aside (i.e. shirt, waistcoat, tights, hat etc) appeared to be wearing a loin cloth.  That added to his spaghetti-thin legs gave him the bizarre impression of being a post-medieval version of Gandhi.

This group were really enthusiastic - almost too much at times!  It needed occasional tugs back on the imaginary lead to keep them in check, but they were all mostly very good natured and friendly children - just what you want!  The morning seemed to shoot past - loads of laughs and some good learning.  I was in need of a cool down and some lunch, and rather appropriately I had picked just the day to come to Prettygate - it was a roast.  And very nice it was too!  Several ice cold glasses of water and a good sit down later and I was ready for action again.

Back to the hall for fun with the stocks and then a right Royal Rumpus of a jousting tournament.  I have recently taken delivery of new quintaines for the shows, and they are a lot more easy to knock over in comparison with the old ones, so this means the riders have to be that much more careful as they go - and it showed in the tournament today!  It was exciting stuff and was touch and go the whole way, but finished in a win for the Gents again.  The score then goes to:

GENTLEMEN 17 - 26 LADIES

So still a commanding lead, just not quite as commanding it was a few weeks ago.  As the end of summer term marches on, have the lads left it too late?

It was a pleasant drive back to see Amanda and James, and then a spent a lovely evening curled up with my little boy watching one of his favourite movies - a bit of Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Man's Chest.  Not my favourite by a long way, but diverting enough.  And it is so lovely to see my little boy laughing so heartily at some of the silly jokes.  Good lad! 

I am in Shepton Beauchamp in Somerset on Monday for the Jubilee Celebration, then up to Sudeley Castle again for another Tudor fun day with the Tudor Roses.  After that the rest of the week will be spent at Leeds Castle in Kent with another jousting tournament.

Woodstock School, Bristol

The original Tudor version of the Buster Keaton "falling house" gag.  Sadly their primitive calculations were critically flawed and at least five of them were squashed flat.  The surviving members of this photo went on to find lasting fame as Abbot and Costello.

By the time I got to Woodstock , they were half a million strong. Everywhere there was songs and celebration.  And I dreamt I saw the bombers riding shotgun in the sky, turning into butterflies above our nation.  All right, Officer, I'll come quietly.  But thankfully that was when I woke up.  It was a nice bright pleasant drive this morning up the dear old M5 towards Bristol and my appointment at Woodstock School.  This was a morning only and I was due to be away and on my merry way by about 12.30pm.

The area around the school is very pleasant, quite surprisingly leafy and rural seeming, yet so close to central Bristol.  I parked up outside and was almost immediately greeted by the lovey Wendy Yeo, the teacher who had booked me for the day.  Wendy reminded me of someone and for a long time I couldn't quite grasp who it was I was trying to remember, but then it struck me!  Keagh Fry!  Keagh is the lovely lady who books me each year down at the Maynard School in Exeter.  Well Keagh, if you're reading this, I have found your long lost twin - she is called Wendy Yeo!  It was a lovely warm welcome.  We spent a little while trying to work out how the morning would pad out.  Woodstock is a special school for children with disruptive behaviour and I was to do two session with two small groups - one of a set of long term pupils there in the sort of year 4 age group, and the second group were newer pupils and ranged from year 1 onwards.... so quite a mixed group! 

I opened with a talk to the older group in their classroom and they were fantastic!  Really sparky, full of Tudor knowledge and really with the minimum of disruption, even though one lad was convinced that Henry's last wife was called Catherine Parrott.  I then took them down to the main hall for a fun jousting session where, as it was a small group, everyone got to have a go.  We then had a break for a cup of tea and a sit down and it was on to the newer group.  As they were a lot younger we made their session a lot easier - so we started with the jousting, then I took them back to a classroom and we just sort of chatted through their knowledge and pre-conceptions about Henry VIII and the Tudors.  It was a fun different sort of morning in a really charming pleasant school.  Wendy Yeo should be very proud of all the pupils and staff - they were marvellous.

I packed my stuff away and got in the car and headed up the M5 to pick up the M4 as I was now heading off to Essex.  I stayed with Amanda and James, which was lovely as ever.  Tomorrow I have a relatively early start for a drive up to Colchester and an appointment at Prettygate Junior.  Should be smashing!

More Dudley Castle Pictures

 Good King Hal, looking mean and moody and wondering who's just nicked his roll of lino.

 The main Castle courtyard rapidly filling with the punters for the evening show.

 Three Little Maids from School Are We, Tudor style and a real threat to next year's Eurovision.

 Good King Hal warming up a couple of Queens for a night of ghost hunting.  Please note substitute Queen on the bench in the background.

 This is truly magnificent.  A very nice gent called Ryan Howard came and took some photos of me and the Tudor Roses at the Dudley Castle event, but he showed me this photo from his house showing a "Henry VIII Knothole" on his bathroom door!  I love it!  I want that door!

Catherine Parr mere nano-seconds after Good King Hal showed her his infamous "white-eared Elephant" joke.

Yeovil Probus and Dudley Do Right (with added Ghosts)

Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour explain to the King their exact feelings about his rule of England, desire for a son and heir, and his treatment of women in general in Tudor England.  No solicitors were harmed during the making of this marital conflict.  If you have been affected by any of the topics raised in this photograph, please contact: Mrs Edna Colostomy, Dun Gossipping, Ratbag Road, Much Sniding in the Marsh, England.

Friday evening saw me finally complete a long standing promise, and this isn't the one for Lisa Rogers as the court injunction is still in place.  Cast your mind back, dear reader, to April 2011 when I wended my way up to sunny Stranraer in Scotland to go and view the footballing treat that Stranraer versus East Stirling promised.  I had travelled up with my father for the weekend with the proviso that I had to be back in Somerset for the Monday to give a talk to the fine upstanding members of the Probus Club in Yeovil.  Well, if you recall we had a bit of a nightmare with the car breaking down in Carlisle and being stranded in Cumbria until late on the Monday evening.  Luckily I had managed to get a message to the Probus club and explained my predicament and they were very kind and only ordered a partial fatwa.  The date was re-arranged, and then re-arranged again until it was finally settled that I should give my performance to the club and their good lady wives on the evening of Friday 25th May.  It was to be held at the Westland's Social Club in Yeovil, a place I had only ever visited once before and that was about 10 years ago when I went to an antiques fair and failed to buy anything.  I couldn't even remember what the club looked like.  I arrived on the Friday evening at about 7pm and to be honest it didn't look promising.  All I could see was what appeared to be a large garden centre and some tennis courts.  I asked a chap standing outside the "garden centre" if he knew where Yeovil Probus club normally meet and he assured me that after 15 years of working at this centre he hadn't got a clue.  Great.  I drove a bit further in and found the Social Club proper - a large 1970's square shaped building.  I parked up and went to walk in - and the first thing I saw was the horrific site of a poster advertising a forthcoming show by the highly talented and eloquent (not) rapper Dappy from N-Dubz.  Ooh, nasty and really something not to be seen, or indeed heard on an empty stomach.  I went inside to introduce myself but couldn't find anyone.  It appeared, from reading the "what's on" board in the lobby that Yeovil Probus were meeting in the Wessex Room.  I went down to this room, right at the back of the building, and it was completely empty and in semi darkness.  However, I was in the right place and eventually the club members and their wives began arriving.  I had been due on at 7.30pm, but events like this can sometimes be about as easy to organise as herding cats and in the end it was nearer 9pm before I was on.  It was a scorching hot night, but great fun.  They were a lovely responsive group, roared with laughter at most of my appalling old gags and I even got a chance to chop the head off a lady who used to serve me when I used to bank at Lloyds TSB many moons ago.  Smashing.  I partook of some of their buffet before heading home.  I stopped at a Spar petrol station on the way home as I fancied purchasing a bottle of wine to help me unwind, however I got to them about three nano-seconds after they had locked the front door for the evening.  I asked through the night till if the young lady serving could grab me a bottle of Shiraz.  "A bottle of wot?" she asked.  Shiraz, I replied.  "Wot?" her reply.  SHIRAZ! I yelled.  "Wot?" She said.  "Goodnight."  I said, and went home and stayed sober.

Up bright and early on the Saturday morning for a drive up to Dudley in the West Midlands.  I was appearing at Dudley Castle (which doubles as a zoo BTW) for "SPOOKFEST 2012", a ghost hunting and paranormal event hosted by TV's sweaty spiritual scouse medium Derek Acorah.  I was to be there with the Tudor Roses, late of Leeds and Sudeley Castles.  I was booked in at the Quality Inn Hotel in Dudley and arrived there and phoned the Tudor Roses to see if they had arrived, but they were having a horrendous journey and were stuck on the M25 still, so I checked into my room and ordered a sandwich on room service (£7 for a bleedin' ham baguette!) and settled down to munch on my priceless sarnie and listened to the Test Match on the radio.  About an hour or so later I got the message that the Roses had arrived!  We met up and went down to the car park where the Spookfest organisers were going to take us up to the Castle for a look about and a production meeting.  In the big castle courtyard the heat was stifling, but inside in our dressing room deep within the castle walls it was lovely and dark and cool.  It was only three of the Tudor Roses today - Lady Emma, Lady Erica and Lady Katherine, all chaperoned by Emma's other half, the near legendary Darren Wilkins and his ever-present camera.  We were joined by a Tudor music group that resembled either part of the Addams Family (if you were feeling uncharitable) or a pensionable version of Fleetwood Mac (if you were feeling even more uncharitable).  The plan was that we had to be changed into our gear and ready to rock'n'roll by 6pm to meet and greet the first punters as they wandered in to a Psychic Fair held in one of the Castle's restaurants.  Then at 8pm the main gates would open and the crowds could flock into the Castle courtyard where the main stage and show was to be performed, with various warm up psychics and comic turns entertaining everyone until Derek Acorah and Richard Felix, both late of TV's "Most Haunted" would then take over and carry on the ghost hunting.  Things would culminate with a night time night vision vigil in the Castle's under croft at about midnight.  Well we did our meet and greet - posed for hundreds of photos, greeted the customers as they came in when the 8pm gates opened.  By 9.30pm myself, Katherine and Erica were pretty much done in.  Emma and Darren were going to hang on for the late night vigil.  Therefore just as Derek Acorah was getting extra specially sweaty and psychic with the audience, Erica disappeared off into the night with her parents for the long drive home, and Katherine and I headed to the Castle gate and ordered a taxi to take us back to the hotel.  We both decided we needed a drink.

My wine hoodoo seemed to have struck again, Katherine and I burst into the bar, gasping for something cooling and alcoholic to be told they had just shut for the night.  We could still purchase a bottle of wine if we wanted to, so we bought a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc (for a breathtaking £19) and settled down with two glasses to attempt to put the world to rights.  I hadn't really had much time at previous events to speak to Katherine, but she is a simply charming lady - quite staggeringly young and pretty, but very bright and sparky with it.  Ah, if only I were about 20 years younger and good looking - she could be mine!  ALL MINE I TELL YOU!  (We pause the blog here as Mr Farley has a sit down and a glass of water to recover.  Welcome back!).  We laughed and chatted for what seemed like only a brief period, but before we knew it the bottle of wine was empty and it was nearly 1.30am - a really lovely end to a hot and busy day.  I have no idea what time Emma and Darren got back from the vigil, but they and Katherine were up bright and early and away from the hotel by 8am.  I had intended to try and be up and wave all three of them off, but I slept through my alarm and didn't surface until about 9am.

I packed the car and was away from Dudley just after 10am and arrived back in an equally hot and sweaty Somerset by 12.30pm.  So I have spent a lazy Sunday afternoon drinking tea and watching the Test Match, preparing myself for more Henry shenanigans on Tuesday with a morning at Woodstock School in Bristol before driving up to Essex for Wednesday at Prettygate Junior in Colchester.  Right, kettle on, more tea and.....  relax.

When Barry met Harry.

Good King Hal, testing the strength of a school table by lowering the Royal rump right on it.  The vicious swine.

Back on the road again means getting up at the crack of dawn, especially as the show was in Wales - Barry to be precise.  I had visited Barry once before, donkeys years ago and to be honest I couldn't remember it at all.  The drive up was quite pleasant and easy with the M5 being delightfully empty.  I got to to the Severn Crossing and now found that they were charging you £6 to go across.  £6?  How can they justify such a cost?  You should get a free balloon or a lollipop or something at that cost.  Anyway, I rolled up outside the school - Colcot Junior, and was very warmly welcomed by the lovely Liz Prescott, the teacher who had organised the event.

It was a lovely school with great kids.  The group was quite large - about 70 I suppose, and a mixture of years 3 and 4.  The morning ran it's usual course with great fun in the opening talk and a keenly contested quiz.  We broke for lunch and then things changed from it's normal run - first I was back in the hall for a Tudor banquet with a nice pottage, some gingered bread, marzipan sweetmeats and delicious spiced apple juice.  The children also entertained the King with some "knock knock" jokes - most of which I had heard to be honest, but there was one young lad who specialised in completely off the wall knock knock jokes such as "knock knock"  "Who's there?" "A chicken" "A chicken who?"  "A chicken trying to get to the other side of the road."  Cue total silence and tumble weed.  But he knew loads of them!  After the feast and the jokes the children then showed off their Tudor dancing skills which was great fun.  And from that we went straight into the usual Jousting tournament.  It was a loud entertaining affair finishing with one of those rarest things - a win for the gents!  Our score now rolls on to:

GENTLEMEN 16 - 26 LADIES

Colcot Junior was a fabulous memorable school and it was a delight to visit.  Now instead of heading back to Somerset I carried on down the M4 towards Newcastle Emlyn and my parents place.  On the Friday night we went out to dinner with my cousin George, who has just bought a fantastic big house near to my parents place.  George, his wife Alex and their two sons Arthur and Tom, joined myself and my mother and father at the Netpool Inn at St Dogmaels - what a fantastic pub.  We had the warmest welcome from the charming hosts and had a brilliant evening.  Another cousin of  mine - John Boorn and and his old pal Vic from Melbourne in Australia arrived on Saturday and it was great catching up with "Boorny" as he is affectionately known.  I spent a wonderful weekend with them all, got to catch up with my sister Sue and her other half Ian as well.  It was also nice to see some warm weather for a change as well.  I drove back to Somerset this morning and am amazed to find myself sitting here with the windows of the flat wide open and it actually feels like Spring has finally arrived.  And about time too...

Sudeley Castle 2 - Soaking in Sudeley.

The Jackson Five as seen in Tudor England.  From the left: Marlon, Tito, Groucho, Harpo and Sneezy.  Ye YMCA in full vigour.  Many thanks to The Tudor Roses for the lending of this picture.

You could tell it was a British Bank Holiday Monday by the Bible black skies and tsunami-like downpour of rain. What better way to experience this day than trudging round the soggy gardens of Sudeley Castle whilst dressed as a big Tudor Jessie.  To sweeten this less than appetising pill I was going to be wandering round with the Tudor Roses again, this time with the addition of Zarrina Bull.

No new name has yet been finalised for the King's new sat nav in the car.  The names Vivienne and Henrietta have been suggested, but more suggestions would be appreciated.  She got her first proper outing on the Monday morning as I drove up the M5 towards Winchcombe and Sudeley Castle.  However, she is going to have to get better at this as she insisted on taking me slap bang through the middle of Cheltenham - not too bad on a rainy early Bank Holiday Monday morning, but could have been a real pain in ye Royal posterior if it was a working day and getting close to rush hour.  I arrived at the Castle to be greeted by the lovely Kim Gibbons again - a charming lady looking a little under the weather this particular morning.  She insisted her ailments were self-inflicted, but I still felt sorry for her.

My morning got off to a bad start.  I arrived at the Castle in pouring rain - not good.  I knew this would soon be followed by the staircase equivalent of scaling the north face of the Eiger, whilst pulling a bloody great big suitcase after you - the room I use to get changed in is right at the top of a very high Castle tower... So to make things easier I decided to ease the weight of my Henry costume case, and before I went in I jettisoned my spare robe, pantaloons, doublet, tunic and anything else I might not need on the day.  Excellent.  I still sounded like a shagged out steam locomotive puffing up the last few steps in the rarefied atmosphere at the top of the tower, but I was happy I had completed my task and I was safe in the knowledge that my car was now parked about half a mile down the track in the staff car park, and safe and sound.  I got the costume out and stripped out of my normal clothes.  Henry shirt on - check.  Tights on - check.  Pantaloons?  Er.....  pantaloons?  I tipped the bag upside down and went all through it - not a sight of any of my pantaloons. Sod it, there was only one thing for it - slip my jeans on over my tights and put some shoes on and slog back DOWN the north face of the Eiger and slosh through the mud the half mile to the staff car park where my car was all safe and sound, but bloody miles away.  Sure enough when I got to the car I had indeed jettisoned both pairs of pantaloons I had with me.  What a complete and utter twit.  So it was back UP the north face of the Eiger and carry on changing.

I am always amazed by the tenacity of the British tourist.  In the pouring rain and howling wind the last place most sane people would want to go would be a cold old Tudor Castle - but came they still did.  Not a massive turn out by any standards, but somewhere in the region of about 400 hardy souls.  One of whom was one of the lovely teachers I had seen at Hugh Sexey Middle School on Friday!  She came with her husband, children and what appeared to be a full set of grandparents as well.  For services above and beyond the call of duty, she receives the Good King Hal Medal of Bravery in the Face of Inclement Weather.  It was fun perambulating the grounds with the Tudor Roses and dear Zarrina - their costumes look so fantastic and they're all such pretty girls. 

We lunched all together in the great hall dining room, surrounded by the tourists in for the day.  The big roaring fire in there was most welcoming.  You simply would not believe it was May outside - it was so cold.  The musical minstrels from our previous trip to Sudeley were not outside in the pouring wind and rain, but were stationed in the minstrel gallery above the restaurant and provided a perfect soundtrack to our lunch.

We were finally released at about 4pm and began our individual slogs home.  The M5 to begin with resembled being inside a car wash on full blast, such was the ferocity of the rain fall, but it eventually cleared up.  I was home by 6.30pm, and getting stuck into a glass of Shiraz by about 6.32pm.  A really lovely day with some really lovely ladies and looking forward to us all re-convening at Sudeley on the 5th June.

Confessions of a Sexey Model. (You'll understand...)

Breakfast TV on Tudor Vision.  Joining Henry and Liz on the sofa this morning will be lovable brain box from Holland - Erasmus; chum of the King - Robert Aske; and Perkin Warbeck - crazy name, crazy guy!  Stay tuned.

The middle of last week found me down in Folkestone in Kent to begin with, having dinner and meeting with my new brilliant agent, the legendary Michelle Coda.  I stayed the night with her and her other half Matt, and Michelle's little daughter, Victoria.  In the evening her parents Frank and Debbie came over and much wine was drunk and food eaten, which always seems to happen when Frank and Debbie Coda are on the scene.  I began the long drive back to Somerset on the Thursday lunchtime, but this time with one passenger missing - my poor old sat nav, the one dubbed originally Doris II by me, but later and more poetically Kanuna by my son James, she is no more.  Her power supply has broken and really I was just looking for a good excuse to get rid of her!  She had never been that good to be honest.  She can find easy addresses brilliantly - if you want 57 Hannover Street in Oldham or something, she can take you straight there.  But ask her to find some house in the middle of nowhere - hopeless.  You'd key in the post code for Little Rustic Farm, near Wurzel Village in Devon and she'd say "Well, I can't find that address, but I can find Rustic Road slap bang in the middle of Exeter, would you like to go there instead?" which is about as helpful as finding a man who is drowning and asking him to hold your anvil.  So Friday's appearance back at the wonderful Hugh Sexey Middle School in Blackford near Wedmore would have to begin with me finding the school manually.  I printed out directions from Google Maps and felt confident I could find the place the following morning.

Twit.  Total and utter twit.  Of course I wouldn't be able to find it with printed out directions from Google Maps.  I couldn't even find it with Kanuna in previous years.  Somehow, through luck more than judgement, I found myself in the village of Blackford and asked a very nice lady taking her dog for a walk where I could find Hugh Sexey School - a question which, asked in any other village in the UK would have probably resulted in a slapped face for me.  So here I was back at this lovely school, surrounded as ever but a veritable bevy of beautiful teachers.  It seems a pre-requisite to work at this school is you have to be female and attractive.  And I am not complaining!  Always makes my visits more fun for me!

Well, we had a great morning - it was a big group of about 100 children I suppose, and all of them in fantastic costumes.  Loads of laughs in the morning, and some really sound and impressive Tudor knowledge displayed by the children.  We started a little late because of a morning assembly in the hall, but we soon caught up.    For lunch the children had all brought in packed lunches, and as in previous years I was asked to judge which I thought were the most authentically Tudor of the foods.  One little girl had a yogurt frube drink and a chocolate bar and was surprised when I told her they weren't terribly authentic.  I was treated to a lovely lunch of pasta bolognese, followed by a chocolate cake in custard.  Terribly healthy!  I also shared a bottle of red grape Schloer with the teachers, with us all pretending it was red wine - but it was obvious it wasn't as we all went back to work after lunch!

The afternoon was loud and fun, culminating in yet another brilliant Jousting tournament, but this one ended in that rarest of occurrences - a win for the Gents!  This makes the updated score:

GENTLEMEN 15 - 26 LADIES

Still a big lead for the ladies, but the gents are at least hanging in there. We finally finished with some photos with the group, and a parade of the children's costumes with me picking the best.  I was absolutely cream crackered by the time it was for me to pick my way home.  But any ideas I had of a quiet lazy evening snoozing on the sofa, well, I could forget all that.

You may remember I modelled for the Shepton Beauchamp art group recently, in my full Henry gear, and I was heading back there for a return visit by popular demand!  I wore a different outfit from my previous posings and we had the usual banter and laughs with the ladies there present.  A very pleasant evening, and proof, if you ever wanted it, that not only Lily Cole is a "model" in this family.  So now you understand the title of the blog - Sexey Model?  Geddit?  Oh never mind...

I have purchased a new sat nav today - not sure of her name yet.  Any suggestions from readers of this blog?  She will first be used "in anger" on Bank Holiday Monday when I am back at Sudeley Castle in Winchcombe in Gloucestershire for another Tudor "fun" day. Looking forward to seeing my Queen's again as the Tudor Roses will be out in force again.  Smashing!

Falcon School, Norwich

Good King Hal, known as "The Tudor Pelvis", rocking through yet another rendition of "Hound Dog" to a stunned audience of easily distracted midgets.  Surely there must be a law against this sort of thing.

Manchester City 1 Manchester United 0.  It gladdens the soul, folks, it really does.  But I won't mention it much more in this blog.  Honest.  I had driven to Essex on Sunday as a staging post for the next part of this journey to this show - onwards up to Norwich on the Monday morning for a return visit to Falcon School.  One of my friends on Facebook got terribly upset when she realised that Falcon School was just that - a school and not, as she had thought, a school for Falconry.  I promised to get it introduced on the curriculum as soon as is Kingly possible.

The pouring rain which has highlighted our drought over the past few weeks (eh?) had finally given way, and on waking in the wee small hours of Monday I was delighted to see the beginnings of a sunrise.  This made the morning drive up very pleasant indeed, and even at an early hour it was warming up nicely.  To be honest, for someone who was going to spend the whole day in furs and heavy clothing, it was warming up a bit too much.  I was warmly welcomed with a cup of tea and even a hug from one teacher!  It was a bigger group than in previous years at Falcon - just under 100 children in three classes.  Manchester City 1 Manchester United 0.  Ah!  It just sounds better each time you mention it, doesn't it?  Today's show was just one of those days when everything goes right.  It was a lovely group of children, great teachers and everyone got really involved.  Loads of laughs and also some very impressive Tudor knowledge, one little girl scoring a rare 20 out of 20 in the Tudor quiz. 

Lunch was an ice hockey puck and chips.  Sorry, lunch was a BEEFBURGER and chips, and it filled a void, though when it did go in my mouth a big bell rang out, organ music played and loads of very fat Americans started waving flags and shouting.  (This is a joke BTW).  Meanwhile, Manchester City 1 Manchester United 0.  And does anybody even care what a Rock Hyrax is?  I do.

The afternoon session was hilarious, loads of laughs, and one of the teachers let slip that one of the others is on the verge of emigrating to New Zealand which apparently the children weren't supposed to know.  Oops!  That is the sort of thing I do normally, so it was nice to see someone else putting their foot in it.  In the joust, one of the gents teams had this young lad in it who frankly hadn't got a clue what he was doing. He just randomly prodded at quoits in whichever direction he felt like at the time, and then wandered aimlessly between the quintaines as the crowd howled at him to get on with the race.  Somehow his team reached the final against the ladies team, but he put in a similarly bewildered performance in the final which allowed a very good ladies team to romp to a deserved victory.  Our score now goes up to a very one sided:

GENTLEMEN 14 - 26 LADIES

They are getting away now.  It is not as close as Manchester City 1 Manchester United 0, but it is just as joyful.  Almost as joyful as watching Sir Alex "Complete and Utter ****" Ferguson losing the plot midway through the second half when his team couldn't win.  I was very sympathetic.  I only laughed for 38 minutes.  And then a further 25 minutes.  Right, the King is off down to Folkestone tomorrow to see his agent, then back to Somerset for a return visit to the delightfully named Hugh Sexey School in Wedmore.

Oh, and in case I forgot to mention it....  Manchester City 1 Manchester United 0.

Shakespeare, Hexham, Hadrian's Wall and all points north...

Hadrian's Wall - a small garden ornament designed to keep out vast hoards of marauding Picts.  Surprisingly effective. Seen here in excellent weather and with a distinct lack of sheep poo.

It was to be an excursion north.  My sister Cathy, is a graphic designer and does a lot of work for a Shakespearean group who have their base in Northumberland.  She and her husband, Julian, had been invited up to this neck of the woods for a party to celebrate Shakespeare's birthday/death day (depending on how you look at it).  She had mentioned to them that I dress up as a big Tudor Jessie and they were keen for me to come along and join in the fun, as I was assured many other of the guests would similarly be dressed up.  Oh yes, I was assured...
We drove up on the Thursday morning, up along the A68 which was the very same route I took way back in 1987 on my first ever trip to the Edinburgh Festival.  Ah!  This time, instead of sharing a clapped out Ford Transit minibus, I was in my sister's humongous Jeep Grand Cherokee, a car roughly the same size as the USS Nimitz, which was lucky considering the vast amount of baggage we were bringing with us, as well as Cath and Julian's dogs, Charlie and Oona.  We were staying just outside Hexham in the delightful hamlet of Juniper in a restored pre-Victorian chapel nestling next to a flowing river.  Beautiful - even in the weather we endured, which was damp with a capital "splash".  Check it out here: http://www.theriversidechapel.co.uk/  and go and visit it!  It's lovely!  We had a lovely lazy first evening, drinking wine, and eating chicken and chips - very classy.
On the Friday we drove up to Hadrian's Wall, a site I have driven past so many times over the years but had yet to visit.  We headed up to Housesteads Roman Fort where you park up, and enter via the site shop.  You are lulled into a false sense of security by the gentle path that leads out of the back of the shop, this then slopes down before suddenly rearing up like the north face of the Eiger.  I was overtaken by one very pensionable looking chap which made me feel great about my current fitness levels. But we got there in the end and had a look round the interesting museum, then had a good wander round the site which had more sheep poo than you could honestly shake a stick at.  I did my usual trick of visiting an ancient monument by taking some time to kick over a few molehills to see if anything cropped up - and they did!  First I found a nice bit of Roman grey ware pottery, then a very nice fragment of Samian pottery and finally the remnant of a rusted nail - possibly too small to be a roof nail, but possibly from a Roman shoe.  I handed that one into the museum and they seemed genuinely pleased to receive it.  Little things...  We drove back to our chapel via the charming little town of Haltwhistle, where we picked up a very nice steak pie for our din dins that evening from a local butcher's.
Saturday was the day of the Shakespeare bash - in the nearby little town/village of Allendale.  As it turned out I was the only person in costume, nothing new for me to be honest, but I was also the youngest person there by about 20 years.  It was an interesting day - readings from various plays and sonnets, traditional songs and also some lovely folk music.  We were given almost industrial amounts of wine to drink, which was very welcome, and after about 3 hours it was time to leave, probably before we slipped into an alcohol induced coma.
Sunday was another day out, this time driving over to Temple Sowerby, near Penrith to visit my lovely friends Andy and Kate Blundell and their children Daisy and Dylan.  The drive over was via the town of Alston on the A686 which I can thoroughly recommend - stunning scenery and some beautiful houses.  It was great to see Andy and Kate again and we sat in their garden drinking tea and watching young Dylan demolish a chocolate cake all by himself.  Good lad.  Andy took us over to their antiques showroom later - such wonderful stuff!  Have a look here: http://www.phoenixantiquesbarn.co.uk/ at what they can offer.  We drove back to the Chapel for our last night, stopping on the way to pick up a take away curry and some more wine for our final blow out.
The drive back on the Monday morning was hard work for Julian, he did most of the driving.  I have to admit I slept most of the way!  The weather was mostly dreadful with heavy sheets of rain lashing down.  My plan to hurtle off back down to Somerset was thwarted as I had to come to Essex and look after James for a couple of days as Amanda is ill with severe bronchitis at the moment.  But, hey, any excuse to spend some happy time with my lovely son is to be cherished.  So I am not complaining!  It has been a lovely long weekend away, but I would really love to see Juniper and the Old Riverside Chapel in nice weather as it must be stunning.  It was good enough in filthy weather!

Bishop's Down Primary, Tunbridge Wells

His Majesty, The King, suffering from a tremendous bout of Hampton Court. But then he shouldn't have sat down so quickly.

The rather pleasant sunny weather of the last few days was only a memory on Tuesday morning. After finishing at Sudeley Castle on the Sunday, by Monday I was back on the road heading to Kent for a visit to Bishops Down Primary School in Royal Tunbridge Wells on the Tuesday. The Monday drive had been through the same bright but cold weather of the weekend, but Tuesday dawned grey and cold, with threatening clouds overhead. Tunbridge Wells is a very attractive town most of the time, but even it's charms were somewhat limited in the ceaseless, steady downpour of rain.

I had been booked to appear at this school by a lady called Sarah Grimsey, and she was there to greet me when I parked up outside the school's front doors. She shot up in my estimation by first and foremost being very friendly and welcoming, but then did even better by making me a cup of tea. It was a mixed group of years 5 and 6 for today - about 50 children in total, and they were lovely. Full of laughs and, considering I was their official introduction to the Tudors topic, very well informed on all things Henry VIII. The morning finished in their classroom for a very funny question and answer session.

Lunch was a delicious pesto pasta with home made meat balls - absolutely lovely! The afternoon was equally loud and fun, and when we came to the jousting tournament it was deafening. The final got us back to our usual result with the ladies romping to a very competent and well deserved victory. Our score for the year is now:

GENTLEMEN 14 - 25 LADIES

That is a very big lead the ladies now have, and to be honest I can't see the gentlemen catching them, or am I just doing Roberto Mancini mind games?

I was quite low on fuel as I headed back to my sister's place near Detling, but do you think I could find a petrol station between the school in Tunbridge Wells and Stockbury? Could I heck. I saw one on my side of the road the whole way, and so badly positioned was it that you couldn't see or notice it till you were well past it on a non-turning duel carriageway. Finally, I conceded I would have to stop at the little petrol station at the top of Detling Hill... WRONG! I pulled up on their forecourt with my car virtually running on fumes, to be greeted by big signs saying "Sorry, we are temporarily closed. Apologies for any inconvenience." I then had trouble getting back on the road as some tit in a tarmac-spreading lorry had parked on the slip road back on to the A249 and was reading a newspaper, utterly blocking any attempt to rejoin the carriageway. When he finally grudgingly agreed to move out the way for me I cheerfully waved at him, in that time honoured tradition of miffed drivers. My, how we laughed.

A day off today for a flying visit to Essex to see my beloved son, then tomorrow a drive up to Northumberland... ooh! Now, time to find me that long over due petrol.

Sudeley Castle 1

Good King Hal blowing an enormous raspberry on the back of his Queen's hand. What a charmer.

Four years had passed since my previous appearance at Sudeley Castle. FOUR YEARS! And I get back there yesterday and they STILL haven't finished it. I had been invited back by the very charming and delightful Kim Gibbons who now does all the booking of this sort of thing at Sudeley. The drive up from Somerset to the Cotswolds was going to take just a smidgen under two hours according to my sat nav, so I left home at about 7.30am aiming for a 9.30am arrival at the castle, for a 10.30am start. I would be working with The Tudor Roses, previously seen at Leeds Castle last year, and also Diane Collings also late of Leeds Castle, Hever Castle, Barrington Court, and the photo above.

It was a brilliantly bright clear morning as I left Crewkerne - dazzling spring sunshine and a Canaletto blue sky. Something that always surprises me when I work at Sudeley Castle is the almost complete lack of any road signs indicating it's existence outside of the small town it's in (Winchcombe). When you go to the area around Leeds Castle and Hever Castle you are left in little doubt as to the location of these charming sites. But Sudeley seems almost to hide itself on purpose, which is a real shame as it is delightful and in the most charming typical Cotswold countryside of rolling hills and quaint views. It's amazing Liz Hurley found it for her wedding.

I was greeted by Kim and shown to my dressing room - an office on nearly the top floor of one of the castle's towers. A lung bursting climb at the best of times, made even more strenuous by hauling half a hundred weight of Henry VIII clothing in a bag behind you. I was soon changed and sitting out on the terrace at the rear of the castle, taking in the views and awaiting the appearance of the Tudor Roses and Diane. With them all assembled round me I was now Henry VIII complete with a Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, Jane Seymour, Katherine Parr, Princess Mary and, thanks to an appearance by Diane's step daughter, a nine year old Princess Elizabeth. There were lots of other attractions for the punters including a circus skills training group, archery and a falconer - everything you could possibly need for a wild Tudor weekend.

Henry and his entourage walked round the castle estate, meeting and greeting any punters we came across and posing for limitless photographs. The sun, when out was very warming, but any time some clouds came across, there was a very keen wind which whipped across the castle grounds and reminded you we were still several weeks from May.

We all lunched together in the Castle cafe, which prompted much mirth and interest from our fellow non-Tudor dressed diners. After much more walking about and being photographed, we paused at one point to watch the falconry display, but this nearly ended in disaster as a customer's dog, for some stupid reason off it's lead, roared into the display area and began trying to attack the falcons. I was just waiting for the owner to run past screaming "FENTON! FENTON! JESUS CHRIST!"

We changed and headed back to our cars, and I was soon on my way home. Again the journey was relatively easy and the only unpleasantness occurred when I was nearly home on the A358 between Taunton and Ilminster, where some complete dick wad in a Ford Mondeo decided he was going to weave in and out of the traffic, regardless of what was coming in the other direction. How come you NEVER see a traffic policeman when you want to!?

Right, off to Kent today for a Henry show at Tunbridge Wells tomorrow, then later this week up to Northumberland for an appearance at a Shakespeare festival (and an excuse for a long weekend away). Thanks to the Tudor ladies this weekend, it was a delight.

Bourne Hall, Epsom

One of these two men is a highly successful actor and voice-over artist. The other is dressed as Henry VIII.

Bourne Hall, Epsom in Surrey. What does this name conjure up for you? Some old Victorian hall, or stylish Georgian edifice? Surrounded by sculpted lawns and with an elegant sweeping driveway... Eh? WRONG. The site that greeted me when I pulled up in the car park after my long drive up from Somerset was what appeared to be a recently landed flying saucer of the retro late-60's look. I half expected the front door to slide open amidst clouds of dry ice and Klaatu to step out and start frying cars with his death ray. I was TERRIBLY disappointed when he didn't, but then Michael Rennie has been dead for a long time now. Ahem. I feel I am getting away from the point of this blog. Silly me.

I had been contacted by Bourne Hall via the charming people at Portals to the Past. Bourne Hall is a wedding venue, museum, library, social centre, meeting place and also contains within it's bowels a very nice function room with stage, dance floor and space for about 300 seats. I was informed by David Brooks from the museum that this very hallowed hall where I was about to perform was where Steps auditioned originally and was also where Posh Spice herself had performed as a youngster. I offered to burn down the building to cover up this terrible revelation, but Mr Brooks declined. I was to do two of my Henry's Horrid History presentations and a bit of jousting - one show in the morning and one after lunch. We had good turn outs for both talks - about 50 people for the first and a few more for the afternoon session. I got my timing all wrong in the first show - finished the jousting and said "thank you and goodbye!" as David Brooks ran hurriedly over and gabbled "you've got another 30 minutes to do!" So I did another 30 minutes. Naughty Henry. I was much more professional for the second show. With this we were treated to the appearance of the local Mayor, a lovely lady, who turned out in her full ceremonial robes. For once I felt slightly under dressed as Henry, but I did get a good laugh when she first arrived halfway through my second talk in her fancy gear and funny hat, as I shouted "MUMMY!" very loudly.

Bourne Hall is a lovely, wonderful place with a really nice little museum. Give it a visit if you're in the area. I finished at about 3pm and was on the road by about 4pm. I got home by about 6.30pm and had a wonderful evening as Manchester United got beaten by Wigan, and Manchester City thrashed West Brom. That put a lovely smile on the King's face!

You can catch up with the King again this Sunday with a walkabout appearance at Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire. See you there!

Male Modelling and Cotford St Luke x 2!

All the jokes used by this man are genuine, hand-stitched, leather antiques and have been carefully assembled by aged stand up comedians in a small lock-up garage in East Cheam.

Me? Being a model? A male model? That is just wrong. It goes against all that is right in nature. It's like Bernard Manning hang-gliding, or Dale Winton playing professional rugby league, or George Osborne proving he knows what the hell he is talking about. It is all highly unlikely. But happen it did. And where was this, I hear you murmur, with barely suppressed excitement? A photo shoot in LA for Cosmopolitan Magazine? A new calendar shoot in St Tropez? No. It was the slightly humbler surroundings of Shepton Beauchamp village hall and I was sitting in my full Henry regalia posing for the Shepton Beauchamp Art Group! It was a very pleasant evening in the end, lots of giggles, laughs, a nice cup of tea or two, and at the end of the day a bit of money and a very nice bottle of Australian Shiraz as a thank you. It had been organised by Jo Walshe, post mistress at Shepton Beauchamp post office and stores and I have to say her pencil drawings of me were very good, but then so were most of the artwork produced on the evening. What a talented bunch. This was last Friday.

After a terribly exciting weekend of doing the sum total of bugger all, it was back to being Henry again on the Monday morning. I was being summoned back to Cotford St Luke School near Taunton. Now I had last visited this school back in 2006 when I did a couple of days there a few months apart doing a big group of children. This time they wanted me on two separate days, but right next to each other. So I would be at Cotford on the Monday and the Tuesday. Getting to Cotford is no easy thing as you have to drive right through the middle of Taunton, which as I might just have mentioned in this blog on one or two previous occasions, can be about as easy as trying to excavate a new channel tunnel using a small white plastic tea spoon. However on both mornings Taunton's traffic was in a very benign mood, and I sailed through to the quiet leafy lanes that make up Cotford St Luke. I was warmly welcomed on the first morning by the caretaker, a happy smiley Hobbit of a man and I was soon set up in the big impressive, but squeaky floored hall. On the first day I would be working with a mainly mixture of years 3 and 4, then on the Tuesday I would finish off with years 5 and 6. The group on day one were the most hard work as there were one or two little "characters" in their midst - nothing more than a little bit of immaturity, but on the whole a very very pleasant group. Plenty of laughs in the morning were had, with the children as well as the very friendly welcoming teachers. Lunch was a delicious chicken korma curry, but all too soon it was back to the hall for the afternoon. The jousting was of a very high quality and (wait for it) ended with a win for.... the Gents! At last! This pegs the ladies back a bit to:

GENTLEMEN 13 - 24 LADIES

But there is still so much to do. At the end of the day I didn't have to pack the props back in the car, I just stowed them away in a class room ready for the next day...

Back on the road to Cotford St Luke on the Tuesday, this was almost like Groundhog Day. Taunton was again a placid place of no hold ups and it was back to the lovely school. Todays group of years 5 and 6 were great - really good fun, very intelligent, bright, sparky children, the sort of group that makes you want to come back and be Henry VIII over and over again. Cotford St Luke is a magnificent school! It was another great day - a good morning of many laughs, a lovely lunch of baked potato and sausages, and then back into the hall for more stocks and jousting shenanigans. And just to make the Groundhog Day simile come to full fruition, the Gents won the jousting AGAIN. You wait weeks for one, then two come along in two days. The score slowly clicks over to:

GENTLEMEN 14 - 24 LADIES

There is one very tired King here this evening, his Royal plates are about to be put up for a well deserved rest. Thank you, Cotford for two very memorable days. Sadly, I probably won't see you again until 2018 if the wait between visits is the same! Now that is just too long...

St Michael's School, Wimborne AND Julian Richards

Good King Hal, as he appears on the brand spanking new time line wall mural at St Michael's School in Wimborne.

After the fun and games of visiting Broughton Astley again, it was back to visit one of my longest standing regular schools: St Michael's School in Wimborne in Dorset. This was to be my eighth annual visit, and as ever it was a delight, full of fun, laughter and one or two surprises. The school had recently had a new time line wall mural painted by a local artist, who also happens to be a mother to one of the pupils, and I had been pre-warned that I would be requested to take part in the morning school assembly and then also help with the "opening" of the mural for the press. So after an opening hour of my usual Henry day with the children, I was whisked out the hall as they brought the rest of the school pupils in for the assembly. In the staff room I was introduced to the other special guests for the day - namely the artist herself, and Professor Julian Richards, often seen presenting such historic TV programmes as "Meet the Ancestors". What a nice bloke!

The three of us were wheeled into the packed hall and sat on chairs at the front, where we were then given a thorough press conference by the children. Tremendous fun. Next we walked through to the mural itself where press photographers were waiting for us to pose like mad with a ribbon and some scissors. And then we were done! The school had it's new impressive mural, Julian Richards had met Henry VIII and I was back to the rest of the Tudor day with year 5.

It was a very big group today, about 120 children, but they were all magnificent, great costumes and lots of fun. It was nice to see regular teacher Jane Eyre back at the school after her brave year working for the VSO out in West Africa. Welcome back! Well the rest of the morning was good fun and very silly - as it always should be! Lunch was a very pleasant roast chicken dinner in the as ever laughter filled staff room.

Back to the Tudor shenanigans for the afternoon, and with such a big group we had a deafening jousting tournament. The gents team went into the final looking very good and very confident, as well they should as they trounced their opposition in the semi final. However, the gents luck is really not running their way at the moment in the finals, and so it proved again, as once more the ladies simply walked off with a very comfortable win. Amazing. Our score is now:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 24 LADIES

There is just no stopping them!

I am back to being Henry on Friday night as I am posing as a life model (with clothes on you'll be relieved to hear) for the Shepton Beauchamp arts group! My next school visits are Monday and Tuesday next week with two days back at Cotford St Luke near Taunton.

Orchard School, Broughton Astley

An artists impression of Justin Timberlake. The artist was then sacked.

The last time I had visited the Orchard School in Broughton Astley in Leicestershire, I made loads of unnecessarily childish jokes about Rick Astley. I promise wholeheartedly not to do the same thing again. Much...

I drove up to the Midlands on the Monday, for another visit to another wonderful, exciting, brilliant Travelodge. This time in Nuneaton! I got to the hotel at about 4pm and by 4.08pm I had exhausted the entertainment possibilities available to me. I had switched the lights on and off in the bathroom. I had laid on the bed in every conceivable compass point, and I had pulled and opened the curtains. There was nothing else for it - I was going to have to prepare for dinner in the evening. Slap bang next door to the Travelodge was a Harvester Inn. Now I am not a big fan of Harvesters at the best of times - they are to traditional English pubs what the Luftwaffe was to East End redevelopment. I went over just after 6pm and was amazed to find, on this Monday night, that the place was just one huge heaving mass of humanity. Is there nothing else to do in Nuneaton? Apparently not. I sat in the bar and ordered a large glass of Shiraz. It came to just shy of £5. Cripes. Harvesters always bang on about how good their steaks are, and as I don't normally eat steaks when I am out I thought I would give one of them a bash. I ordered a Sirloin steak, which I like to have well done. I am really not a fan of rare steaks - a plate awash with blood does not really get the old taste buds pulsing for me. My motto is never to eat anything that looks like a gunshot wound. Anyway, I asked for my steak to be well done and boy did they do that. When it arrived it looked like a piece of vulcanised rubber that had been caught in a flow of scalding hot magma, had then been rescued and for some unexplained reason had then been fired out of a howitzer on a number of occasions. All this and a spoonful of bullet-like peas and 24 chips (I counted them). £15.00. Good job I was hungry.

After a good nights sleep I was soon off to Broughton Astley. It was so nice to be back, warmly welcomed by all the lovely staff. Just as on my previous visit all of the staff and all of the children had dressed up in brilliant costumes. The morning was great fun - when I was doing the music section I played, as always, a brief version of Greensleeves, just as that is what everyone expects. Just before I played the piece I asked (again, as always) which piece of music is most commonly associated with Henry VIII. Today I was told by one little boy that it was the Main Theme from Star Wars. Brilliant. After a lovely lunch of baked potato and salad, it was back to the hall for more nonsense. The stocks were rigged so that one particular classroom assistant, who's 50th birthday is imminent, was set up to go in them! After that the jousting was bound to be good, and it was. And guess what - the ladies won AGAIN. Our score is now:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 23 LADIES

Where will it all end? The drive home was mostly trouble free and I was back at the flat by just after 6pm.

A nice quiet evening will be followed tomorrow for my eighth annual visit to St Michael's School in Wimborne in Dorset. I am due to meet Julian Richards, archaeologist and former presenter of the BBC TV series "Meet the Ancestors" as he will be at the school at the same time. I told my Mother this evening on the phone I would be meeting him - she was bitterly disappointed that it wasn't Neil Oliver from "Coast" as I think she has a bit of a soft spot for him. I told her he is next on my "to do" list. Hmmmmm, perhaps I'd better re-phrase that...

St James' School, Cheltenham

All England fruit bottling supremo, Egbert Lunge, whilst on a fact finding mission to the Seychelles, falls under the microscopic scrutiny of Kenyan bog-snorkelling champion, Loretta Goes-Nicely. In a tender flash back at the El Morocco Tea Rooms in Sleaford, Egbert reveals he is not a natural blonde, before enforcing the follow on. Shortly, despotic rhythm guitarist, "Dangerous" Malcolm Discharge, bowling unchanged from the Gas Works End, sings a moving version of "I Stuck My Finger in a Woodpecker's Hole" before bad light stopped play. Now, read on....

OK, it's March, right? March as in "not February", as in "not winter"? Yeah? OK, so I am driving back from Essex on Sunday, at about lunch time and I am driving down the A303 across Salisbury Plain - and it starts snowing. SNOWING! S-N-NOOOOOO-WING! ARGH! I should write to The Times about this. This pleased me not as I knew I was going to have to get up very early on the Monday morning for a drive up to Cheltenham in Gloucestershire, and I really didn't fancy doing that through snow storms. However, I had nothing to fear. By the time I got to the tropical climes of South Somerset, the outside temperature had rocketed up to nearly 7 degrees. Mind you, it was still a bit of a shock to the system when my alarm went off at 5.30 this morning. I wonder if Ernest Shackleton ever had worries like this?

The drive up to Cheltenham was actually very pleasant. It was a cold, but very clear morning, and the roads were relative empty. I was making a first ever visit to St James' School in Cheltenham and when I found the address it looked very nice, the school nestling in amongst a very attractive new housing complex. I was extremely warmly welcomed and handed a very cheering cup of tea. This was lovely as I am suffering with a somewhat unpleasant cold at the moment and a hot tea went down a treat. It was a group of over 80 children today in a mixed years 3 and 4 set up. But they were very switched on, very excitable and good fun to work with. The main teacher who had booked me, a simply charming gentleman by the name of Duncan Cook, could not have been more helpful, but then all the staff were very wonderful today. The morning seemed to shoot past at an express rate and before you could say "blimey, what the heck was that?" it was lunch time. I was treated to a very tasty plate of spaghetti and meatballs before heading back to the hall for the afternoon session. More fun with the stocks and then it was on to a very entertaining and interesting jousting tournament. In the grand final it finally looked like the gents were going to claim a much needed win as their first two riders streaked off into a seemingly unbeatable lead. But the ladies would not be denied and clawed back the difference. It was going to come down to the final quoit but the gents, in their haste and desire to claim a win virtually pushed the last quoit onto their riders lance. I had no option but to stop the race, re-hook two singular quoits and let the two teams have a race-off... and would you believe it - the ladies won AGAIN. Our score now moves on to an almost embarrassingly one sided:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 22 LADIES

This is getting too much lads - come on! Must do better! I packed up my stuff and was soon in the car, coughing and sneezing my way down the M5 and home. A nice dinner and pint of Tanglefoot, and all of a sudden my cold doesn't seem as bad as I first thought. It was lovely to visit St James' School today, and I sincerely hope Mr Cook's daughter gets well again soon.

All Saints, Wouldham

Finally, Good King Hal gets exactly what he wanted for Christmas. Sadly, he'd broken both of them by Boxing Day, and himself.

Another half day for the King today. I was in Essex with my delightful little boy, but had to be up relatively early for a morning jaunt down over the jolly old Dartford crossing to Kent for a visit to All Saints School in the village/town Wouldham. The drive didn't start with any great pleasure as there was dense fog everywhere which gave the journey the feeling of trying to drive through thick cold porridge. I was also surrounded by lots of thick cold fellow drivers as well.

The school in Wouldham is situated down a small side lane, and apparently was first used in about 1867, which does rather beg the question as to who thought it would be a jolly whizz to build an enormous, ominously throbbing electricity sub station right next door to the school. It certainly wouldn't have been there before 1867, unless Kent is far more advanced than we had previously given them credit for.

Anyway, it was a lovely half day, working with all the Key Stage 2 pupils - a cross section of years 3, 4, 5 and 6, a total of about 60 children. The teachers and staff were a delight to work with and we had plenty of laughs. The jousting at the end was somewhat disrupted by the arrival of the dinner ladies and so the tournament had to conclude outside in the playground, which was fine for me in all my robes, but some of the teachers and children looked a tad chilly. It was a good natured and well fought tournament that culminated in a win for the ladies yet again. They are trouncing the lads this year. Our latest score is now:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 21 LADIES

The gents will get another chance to try and pin back the ladies and their juggernaut of success this Monday when I am up in Cheltenham for a visit to a school up there. I will be in Essex until Sunday when I shall once more drive down the A303 to home. I am pretty sure one of these days I will notice that I have worn a groove in the tarmac on it.

Redstart

An enormous Tudor edifice. And in the background, you might just be able to see Leeds Castle as well.

And so the dust came to settle after the birthday party weekend. It was quite a come down for me, the whole weekend having been such a success. On the Tuesday night I went back to the Phelips Arms Pub in Montacute for their monthly pub quiz. I had last entered this a couple of months back and our team had steam-rollered the opposition, so I returned feeling quite confident. I was on the same team and Rachel Brewer, her other half Anthony and our mutual friend Sarah Kennedy, among others. We started off well and led from the very first round, but the final round (naming different ropes and sails on a Brig) proved to be our Achilles heel and we lost by just half of one point to finish second. Not good!

I was up relatively early on the Wednesday for my first Henry show for a little while. This was a return visit to Redstart School in Chard, so literally just down the road. It was a morning only with a group of about 60 children, and they were all absolutely brilliant - decked out in fabulous Tudor costumes and full of enthusiasm. The teachers took loads of photos and we finished the half day with a great jousting tournament which culminated in the inevitable victory for the ladies team. Our ongoing year long score now comes to:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 20 LADIES

This is getting a bit one sided lads, so come on!

Tomorrow I drive to Essex for a show on the Friday down in Kent. So watch this space for another blog then. And so back to the mountain of cup cakes left from the party. This surely can't be doing my diet any good. But I will do my best.

A Right Royal Knees Up

The true horror of the initiation ceremony for the Knights of Royal England was finally made public. The queue to join suddenly leaped from 3 to nearly 5.

Close friends and family, from across the country, were summoned to South Somerset for a very important reason. It was my birthday party! It's actually my birthday today, but frankly, apart from jobbing actors in the West End, no one has parties on a Sunday, so my 45th birthday thrash was to take place on February 25th 2012 at Barrington Village Hall. For once I was not to be dressed as Henry VIII at a party which was a relief. Music and sound was supplied by Party Tyme Entertainments, run by my mate Robbie Strickland from Stoke sub Hamdon, plus there would be a chance at the party for people to get up and do a song or two if they wished. Also we would be having a whip round to collect money for the National Autism Society and... well, just have a bit of fun! Lots of people chipped in with food and drink - my lovely friend Lisa Head (who I used to work with at Skandia in Southampton) was baking some cup cakes and bringing them with her. And they were fantastic - vanilla and chocolate, and just mind blowingly good.

Well the evening was a bit of a riot, mostly thanks to the Knights of Royal England, who turned up en masse, and made a pretty good party a quite staggeringly brilliant party. I kicked off the singing on stage by murdering "Fireflies" by Owl City, and then after a few crap jokes I sang "Chocolate Girl" by Deacon Blue in deference to the aforementioned, deeply wonderful Lisa Head. The Knights did a few songs, including an a capella version of "I'm Henry the Eighth I Am" with an impromptu "Full Monty" strip section, as you can see in the photo above. We ended the evening with wild singalongs to Guns N Roses, Green Day, Queen and a variety of others, and I had a splendid old time playing air guitar and singing The Boys are Back in Town with the deeply wonderful and insane Roland Bearne. Great stuff! The collected money came to about £220, which I shall bump up a bit more and then send a cheque off to the National Autism Society. I hope they'll be happy. We also had a jousting tournament, like in the schools, only this time with various plastered adults riding the hobby horses - most of the Knights of Royal England took part - and were soundly thrashed by a group of ordinary punters! Wonderful.

It was a truly legendary evening - made all the more special by having so many dear close friends and family with me. Thank you to all of you for your efforts to get there and support the evening. Today, I feel like I have just taken a punishment beating from the IRA, with aching knees and ankles (too much dancing), but it is definitely worth it. I can honestly say, it is the best party I have ever hosted. However, I think I now ought to go and have a long lie down in a dark room. Good night!

Half Term Happiness

It was at approximately 11.45am that Good King Hal whipped out his big wooden trencher out and startled everyone.

Half term! Hoorah! What does half term normally entail for your average King Henry VIII impersonator? Well, to be honest, not a lot. With the schools all closed it usually involves lie ins and late nights, but this year the February half term was a bit different. For a start I had my lovely son James staying with me down in Somerset. Secondly I had a show to do at the Dementia Care Trust Home in Weston super Mare where I had appeared about four years ago.

It was funny - I had asked James what he was most looking forward to on his return to his county of birth, thinking he'd come back with something about "being with you, Daddy" or "a visit to Lyme Regis" or some such. Did I get that? Did I heck. What was he most looking forward to? Lunch at Bilby's Cafe in Ilminster. Well at least he has good taste in local food outlets. He and I drove down to Somerset on the Saturday, along with my sister Cathy who we picked up from her home in Kent as she wanted dropping off in Southampton to collect a new car she had bought from the Ebay website. She treated us, if that is the right word, to lunch on the way, which ended up being taken at the Rounham's service station on the M27. The food was, at best school dinner level and served by the sort of people you would imagine that if you asked them to follow your finger in front of their eyes, they'd be about two seconds behind. We found the home where the car was to be collected and waited with Cathy till she'd paid and then led her to the nearest petrol station that sold LPG for her new vehicle. Turned out it didn't sell LPG, but never mind, the thought was there. So as Cathy and her new Jeep Grand Cherokee headed east back to Kent, James and I continued west towards Somerset.

We had a nice lazy Sunday not doing very much other than watching Spongebob Squarepants endlessly on Nick Toons. On the Monday I fulfilled my promise to James and took him to Bilby's in Ilminster for lunch. Unfortunately, James' new medication for his concentration can also wreck his appetite, which it did on Monday. So while I sat and munched my way through ham, egg and chips (very healthy), James simply sat happily slurping from a bottle of diet coke.

Tuesday saw us up and early off for the show at the Dementia Care Trust in Weston super Mare. They are a lovely group and I am always made most welcome there - particularly from my dear old friend Diane Warren and her daughter Alice. James worked hard as my roadie helping me get my gear into the unit and waiting with me as I got changed. The talk went really well, and James sat happily with Diane throughout the show and even laughed quite loudly at a couple of my jokes. When the show was over James came up to me and said "you told some jokes!" as though it was illegal. I told him that I always try and make my shows funny, which he thought was marvellous.

Wednesday and I fulfilled another promise to James - to take him to see Star Wars - The Phantom Menace in 3D. We got into Yeovil quite early and I purchased the tickets for the 2.20pm showing. Next it was time for lunch and James wanted to go to Pizza Hut. Not a chance - a queue of Biblical proportions snaked out of the front door and down the road. OK, I was not heartbroken by this news, so we tried to get into Frankie and Bennie's, with pretty much the same result. Fair enough. About 20 yards up the road is a small Italian restaurant called La Tamboura or something - we walked down there, and it was virtually empty! We had a superb meal of real Italian food with a very hard working friendly staff who could not have been more attentive if they tried. After that blow out we wandered back to the cinema. OH MY GOD. It appeared that there had been an explosion in a "spotty-bed-haired-annoying-teenager-factory" somewhere and they had all landed in the cinema foyer. The queue for the ticket booth snaked right across the entrance hall and the queue for the popcorn was only marginally shorter. As we already had tickets we joined the popcorn queue. The huge amounts of spotty adolescents in the line was matched only by the spotty adolescents behind the counters who seemed to be content on finding anything to do other than serve the ever swelling crowd in front of them. Time was whizzing past and the queue was barely moving. With only about 5 minutes before the film was due to start, we finally got served. A small bag of popcorn and slush puppy for James, a small diet coke (small? It was about the size of your average garden water butt) and a packet of wine gums for me and it cost over £12. How on Earth can they justify these prices? Anyway, we belted into the screen where Star Wars was showing, expecting it to be chock full of the annoying adolescents to find the room almost completely empty - they'd all obviously come to see Daniel Radcliffe in "The Woman in Black", and I was insanely jealous. The Phantom Menace, not to put too fine a point on it, is a truly appalling film. Terrible script, abject plotting, half formed characters, stilted dialogue and of course Jah-Jah f*****g Binks. I put my 3D glasses on and promptly fell asleep until James elbowed me for snoring too loudly. The film seemed to go on forever, but James loved it, so that is all that matters.

So today, Thursday I am driving the little fellow back to Essex. I will thoroughly enjoy having my bed back to myself, but by God the flat (and my life) is going to feel very empty without him around. He is so gorgeous and my pride and joy. I can't spend enough time with him!