Backstroke to Dunster

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

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

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

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

GENTLEMEN 7 - 8 LADIES

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

Hi Mike/Good King Hal,

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

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

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

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.

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.