Autumn Action.

Good King Hal and friend suddenly notice the paparazzi.  Swines.

More driving around the country, but this time with a very last minute booking.  I got several calls and texts from Shillingstone School, near Blandford in Dorset desperate for me to come to the school before half term. I had visited Shillingstone twice before - once when they were in their old premises. This was an old Victorian building and with absolutely no parking near it.  My abiding memory was of dodging thundering lorries and cars whistling about 5 inches from my head as I unloaded all the props from my car in front of the school gates.  They have moved now, as I discovered on my last visit, to a brand new purpose built, state of the art school building  It is stunning, with great views all round it.  A wonderful school with fabulous teachers, lovely kids and great facilities.  What is not to like?  The drive down is pretty idyllic too, taking you down through Sherborne, past open fields full of deer racing around in herds and little cute hamlets (not moody teenage Danish Prince's having naughty thoughts about bumping people off...).  The morning was great fun, with lots of laughs as usual, and we finished with a quite magnificent jousting tournament that went right to the wire, but the winners, almost inevitably, were the ladies.  So once more they leap on to:

GENTLEMEN 1 - 4 LADIES

Same old same old!  Tired was not really the word when I got home.  It was more a case of "oh my God, everything hurts, I cannot move another inch in any direction as I think I am going to die".  Which might sound a tad over reactive, but then that's the kind of mock Tudor monarch I am....  A Chinese takeaway made me feel a whole lot better.  God bless that MSG.

On the Thursday I drove up to Lutterworth in Leicestershire, so I was nice a close by for a return visit to Orchard School in Broughton Astley.  No.  No I won't do it.  You can't make me.  I have done it on every other visit to this lovely school but I refuse to this time.  I will NOT make a joke about Broughton Astley being Rick Astley's little brother.  DAMMIT!  I just did.  The drive up was OK, but I was only staying at a Travelodge, so I wasn't in a hurry to get there to be honest.  Lutterworth itself is quite nice - as you enter the town there is a big model of a Gloucester Meteor in a real comic book take off position, as this is the birthplace of Sir Frank Whittle, inventor of the jet engine.  Well just past this big stainless steel sculpture there is the Travelodge.  I drove past it to see if I could find a nice cheap supermarket where I could buy some food for the evening.  I had a quick look but all I could see was a Waitrose - expensive, but there seemed little other choice.  I actually asked someone in the car park if there was anywhere else nearby and he told me there wasn't.  He was a complete liar, because when I drove 200 yards past it the next morning there was a bloody great Mace store.  Git.  I bought some food which came to just slightly less than the GDP of a small African country and went out to the car park.  As I went to reverse out of my space an old chap strolled straight behind my moving car.  I stopped suddenly and waited for him to move.  He didn't, he simply slowly started lighting a cigarette.  I waited and waited and finally he moved.  He gave me an absolutely filthy look as I pulled out - not sure why.  I wound down the window and called out to him: "I'll get you next time Usain".  He made a well known rude gesture.  How nice.

Orchard School was lovely the next day.  Great to see everyone from my previous visits, including the jolliest caretaker you could ever wish to meet.  It was a superb day, great fun, lots of laughs and two of the biggest prima donna's you could ever wish to meet.  As if to prove my predictions wrong, the gents this time stormed to a well deserved victory over the ladies, thus pulling our score back to:

GENTLEMEN 2 - 4 LADIES

Nice and close.  The journey back on a Friday afternoon affected M5 was not pleasant, but the weekend has been nice and relaxing.  Tomorrow morning I am up bright and early for a visit to Tilehursst near Reading in Berkshire, and then after the morning with them I am shooting down to Wales to see my folks again.  Can't wait!

The George Michael Hotel...

Good King Hal showing admirable composure after a particularly unsuccessful Temperance Society cheese and wine bash.

The weekend just gone has been very nice indeed.  My parents came down to stay from their home at Newcastle Emlyn and we had a fun time.  On the Sunday we went down to Portesham in Dorset for the Memorial Service for my cousin Jack.  Jack died in May and this was a chance to celebrate the life of a truly exceptional human being.   I have so many happy memories of my Uncle Jack - he was a true and proper English eccentric, intelligent, witty, creative and one of the warmest kindest men I have ever had the pleasure to meet.  We shall not look on his like again.  A few years ago when I made a Henry appearance at Abbotsbury Tythe Barn for their "Midsummer Medieval Mayhem", Jack kindly agreed to be a "Heckler" in the audience during my set.  He did such a fine job that he got more of an ovation than I did at the end!  The memorial service was full of song, poetry, music and happy memories - just perfect for this incredible man.  Jack - it was a pleasure to know you.  The world is a greyer colder place without you.

This evening, Monday, I was due to give another talk to a Rotary Club, this time Yeo Vale Rotary - their meeting was to take place at a hotel just south of Yeovil on the A37.  I noted the name of the hotel but kept struggling to remember it.  It's official name was The George Albert Hotel, but I kept thinking of either George Michael or Prince Albert, both of which can be quite hurtful.  One is a searing pain where you least want it, and the other is a genital piercing (BA-DOOM-TISH -  thank you, thank you).

I drove down in the slowly dimming light of the summer evening.  I was due on at 8.15pm so I arrived at the hotel at about 7.45pm and was warmly greeted by the lovely receptionist Louise.  I was sent up to a room to use as a dressing room.  It was one of the card entry system rooms - I could not get the door to unlock, so eventually I had to come back down to reception and ask the long suffering Louise to get me another card.  It was only when I went back up to the room that I realised I had to put the card and then take it out to get the door to unlock, not just leave it in as I had been doing.  What a prat.  I got in the room and then couldn't make any of the lights work.  This was turning into a nightmare.  So I got changed into my Henry togs in braille and then went downstairs, but not before I discovered that I could have got the lights to work in my room if I had simply popped the all powerful door card into another slot by the bedroom door.  DOH!.

Downstairs I waited to be summoned to the function room.  But the wait went on and on and on.  Finally I got into do my show at about 9pm.  Well it went great - not quite as storming as the show at I did at the Westland Centre a while back, but plenty of laughs and a real long warm round of applause at the conclusion!  So I got changed back in my now well lit and air conditioned room and then drove back through thick fog and headed for home.  Tomorrow is another early start with a visit to Maltman's Green School in Buckinghamshire.

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.

The Parable of the Yo-Yo-ing Henry VIII

Good King Hal trying valiantly to out-stare a Triffid.

And Lo, it came to pass, that in the land that is known as Somerset, there dwelt a man called Good King Hal who didst wear tights and impersonate some old Queen or something. And verily he wouldst travel the country and startle children and teachers alike with stories of times past. And e'en now Good King of the Hal wouldst booketh his appearances so that they wouldst all be in the same area of the land that is known as Eng-Er-Land and he wouldst not have to fanny-eth about on the motorway too much. Well, that was-eth the plan. In the month that is January in the year of our Lord that is 2012, it did come to pass that Good King of the Hal had somewhat nausethed up his bookings and lo it did also come to pass that he would be doing a show in the land that is known as Dorset and then immediately have to driveth unto even like the Button that is known as Jensen, and haul his Tudor bottom all the way over to the land that is known as Norfolk in lesseth time than it taketh the on-line supplier, that is known as Amazon, to getteth a new DVD to you, even with their bargain delivery service. And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth and use of the "F" word. And thou doesn't have to be a mind reader to worketh out what happened next... Here end the lesson.

Yes folks, it was time to get on the road and do some quite obscene amounts of driving. I was heading on the Thursday back to Downlands School at Blandford Camp in Dorset. This was my fourth visit to them, but I only get to go there every two years as I do my show for years 3 and 4 combined. As Blandford Camp is an army base you must sign in through their security post when you first arrive. As it was I arrived at the camp at about 7.30am and presented myself to the security guards. They had not been informed by the school that I was coming but seemed to see this as some sort of fault on my behalf. I was treated with utter contempt by one elderly uniformed creep and with slight disdain by the other hoary old Scottish git. When I asked them what I should do I was told in no uncertain terms to basically bugger off and sit in my car until 8am. This I did, but was then told on returning to the Chuckle Brothers that they had still not managed to get hold of anyone at the school. The elderly uniformed creep had now gone off duty and I was left in the warm tender care of the thistle flavoured one. Eventually word was got to the school and they avowed that I was not a psychotic Al Qaeeda operative with explosives strapped to my codpiece and I was let in.

It was nice to be back at Downlands - the school has been almost completely rebuilt in the two years since I was last there. It looks fantastic! It was a brilliant day as ever at Downlands - lovely kids, great teachers and lots of fun and games. I was warmly welcomed and treated like real Royalty by everyone there, which made up for the rude welcome from the Security Guards. After lunch we had a stunning jousting tournament which was won by a very good Ladies team. The score then stood at:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 15 LADIES

I drove back to Crewkerne and packed a small suitcase and was soon on my way up a rapidly darkening A303 for a trip to Essex. On my arrival I was hugged tightly by my lovely son, always a good welcome.

I was up at 5am on the Friday morning for a two and a bit hours drive up to Martham Junior School near Norwich. My previous two visits to this school had been at the height of summer, so it was a bit of a shock to the nervous system to arrive in temperatures only just above freezing. But the welcome was as warm as the hottest summer day. Martham is a delightful school and it is a real pleasure to go back there every time. It was a biggish group, over 100 children, a mixture of year 5 and 6, and they were fantastic - so full of life and enthusiasm. The noise when they really got going was almost unbelievable and the jousting was of a suitably high standard. At last though it was time for the gents to finally snatch a well deserved victory. So at the end of the week the score is:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 15 LADIES

I drove back to Essex for a couple of days with my lovely son, then this morning it was back to yo-yo-ing up and down the A303 for a return to Somerset and tomorrow morning I am off down to Tiverton in Devon and another visit to Blundell's Prep School. And just to show the yo-yo-ing isn't over, the day after that I have to drive back to Essex for a visit to Wickford School. I really must not organise a week like this again for a while. I don't think my car will forgive me if I do.

Shillingstone, Cowboy, Hat - just a normal weekend really...

An extract from Good King Hal's diary: "Day 34 of low fat diet. All going well, still enjoying myself, most symptoms of gall bladder pain now utterly subsided." "Day 35, lard roasted ham... nom nom nom." "Day 36. AAARRGGGH! GALL BLADDER!"

After the first school back on Tuesday with West Leigh, I was now back in Somerset and time for my first school visit here. Well, actually if you're being totally pedantic it was actually in Dorset, but you know what I mean. On the Friday morning I was due back at Shillingstone School just to the north of Blandford Forum, it's a very pleasant drive down to this school through some charming west country scenery - even going past deer park where you can see... yes, you guessed it! Herds of deer! Delightful. The last time I had visited Shillingstone School was a good couple of years ago and they were housed in a tiny Victorian building, flush against the main road and with no parking. Back then I'd had to park about 100 yards down the street and carry my props up the road to the school. They have now moved to a brand new building about half a mile away and tucked away in a quiet side road. It is a stunning new build - bright, airy and full of interesting shapes and angles. The view from the classrooms is of the ancient Wessex landscape - one hill dominating the surroundings has a fine looking bronze age enclosure on the top and various tumuli here and there... (I know you're still reading this, I can hear you breathing...).

It was a great day at the school with a combined year 5 & 6 group of about 30 children. They were quiet to begin with, but once they got going there was no holding them. We had a riotous morning - I even did the Tudor Quiz as a sort of re-enactment of the old "ITV" kids show "Runaround" with the children deciding which large floor mat they would run to for each of their answers. Great fun! The jousting tournament was as ever a loud and exciting affair, and unsurprisingly the ladies won AGAIN. This makes our score:

GENTLEMEN 0 - 2 LADIES

My day was not over. On the Friday evening I was due down at Bridport in Dorset for the launch of the 2nd Annual Bridport Hat Festival. I was to go on stage at the Arts Centre and introduce legendary British country and western singer Hank Wangford and his backing band The Lost Cowboys. I got down to Bridport and wandered up to the Arts Centre. Hank and the band were ripping through a sound check so I took the opportunity to nip into the dressing rooms and get changed. I met Hank who seemed like a lovely bloke, as did most of his band. There was also a strange lady dressed in a sort of florid burlesque gear with a fascinator on her head, who at half time was apparently going to do a little dance about hats while pointing to the words projected on a screen behind her. She spent a short time before the opening of the show asking Hank's puzzled looking drummer if he could play various rhythm's for the different hat dances she was going to perform. The long winter evenings in Bridport must just fly past. Well the time came and I was on stage with main festival organiser Roger Snook doing a sort of cross talk routine as we introduced Hank and the band. And that was it! On came Hank, launched into a song and I was finished for the evening. I drove back to Crewkerne and stopped for a Chinese. Parked outside the restaurant was a tractor - how very Somerset I thought. Inside was, I assume, the driver. He was an enormously pissed neanderthal, perched on a bar stool supping lager from a pint glass while his lady friend moaned about drunk he was. I sat waiting for my order as the neanderthal and his lady continued mildly arguing, with the neanderthal only pausing to belch or fart thunderously. What a talented chap he was. I went home, ate Chinese food and passed out in the "coma chair". What a talented chap I was.

This wasn't the end of my contribution to the Bridport Hat Festival, oh no! I was there all day on the Saturday! I drove down at about 8am in the morning to make sure of my parking spot - they are at a premium during the festival. I got changed in a small room at the back of Roger Snook's hat shop but was soon out pounding the streets, shaking hands and being photographed. If you have never experienced the Bridport Hat Festival on the main Saturday then I urge you to rectify this as soon as possible. It is terrific fun - everyone, but everyone, is turned out in brilliant hats - you see the lot. Pith helmet, fascinators, flying helmets, top hats, deer stalkers, big fancy wedding hats, bowlers, derby's, trilby's... the lot! There was some terrific acoustic live music in the delightfully named Bucky Doo Square, including a great turn from the Dub Liberators who do great acoustic versions of songs like "Anarchy in the UK", "London Calling" and "The Ace of Spades". The weather was on the whole very kind to us and it was a good day all round.

Next Henry appearance is on Tuesday when I up in Cheshire visiting a school for my first ever show in that county. Should be fun.

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."

St Michael's, Wimborne, Dorset

Good King Hal, at Downlands School at Blandford Camp in Dorset with six "trouble and strifes". The six are, from left to right: Happy, Bashful, Amnesia, Cuthburt, Dibble and Grubb.

Another trip down to Dorset and another return visit. This was my fifth year in a row to visit the august portals of St Michael's Middle School on the outskirts of Wimborne in Dorset. It was a delightful drive down in the early morning on Wednesday. A piercingly bright cold morning had dawned and I was soon hacking down to Dorchester and all points east heading for Wimborne town. One of my best friends at the school, the lovely Jane Eyre, I only saw fleetingly as she was accompanying a group of year 8's on a coach trip to Hampton Court Palace. I told her to make sure she left the key under the mat when they left.

It was a big group on the day, about 120 children, and we had a fine day all in all! Lots of loud laughter, lots of great Tudor costumes, good knowledge from the kids and as usual, a really warm welcome from all the lovely teachers who work at this cool school. We had a fun morning, finishing with a riotous question and answer session which had me in stitches from time to time. Lunch was a very tasty, if somewhat bizarre combination of meatball bolognese served with cous-cous and sweetcorn! Different.

The afternoon session was equally fun and frantic and finished on a very closely fought jousting tournament which finally brought a long needed victory for the gents in their ongoing battle with the ladies. This now brings the overall score to:

GENTLEMEN 13 - 20 LADIES

I finished at about 3.30pm and headed for home. I was tired out and was looking forward to a restful evening sitting on my bottom and cheering on AC Milan in what turned out to be a fruitless attempt to beat Man Ure at Old Trafford. It wasn't to happen. I was reminded I was due at Barrington Court for Kate Churchill's farewell party. She is Matthew Applegate's assistant and is a delightful young lady who will be sadly missed when she goes. I arrived at almost smack on 7pm for the party, which was to be a surprise, thinking I had missed the actual surprise bit. I hadn't. We were all lurking in the William and Mary Room in Strode House with the lights out waiting for Kate's entrance. And we waited and waited. Then we waited some more. We waited sitting down and we waited standing up, which is pretty much the same only one is taller than the other. Eventually after several false alerts and much snickering, Kate arrived and was duly shocked to find us all there! A fine party then ensued, including some more fine examples of Jay Kay style dancing from Mr Matthew "Liquid Hips" Applegate that induced much laughter from all the people there. It was a fine party and fine send off to a very popular lady. Good luck to you, Kate!

Downlands School, Blandford Camp

Good King Hal (right), doing incredible things with a small round piece of wood and a bit of string.

Once every two years I head off down to Blandford Camp, near Blandford Forum in Dorset, for an appearance at Downlands School on the Army Camp. It is home to the Royal Signals Corps and is always a bit of a shock when you come from the normal civvies world to suddenly find yourself surrounded by more soldiers than you can shake a stick at! I had spent Monday spending over £300 sorting out the terrible tyres faux pas that the RAC had foisted on me back in Essex a few weeks back. But that is a whole other story...

So this cold and frosty morning I made my way through the security check points and made my way to the school. It was a group of just under 60 children today, a mixture of year 3 & 4 - and they were a very excitable group, but all the better for it. It was a loud and raucous day, but they were a very enthusiastic group, eager to laugh and learn, and showed some very good prior Tudor knowledge already. The lovely teachers at this great school had gone to some lengths with their elegant costumes and all looked gorgeous! After a good, loud and enthusiastic morning we broke for lunch. Lunchtime was quite a laugh as well in a very good natured and fun staff room!

The afternoon went swimmingly and ended with a very loud and exciting joust. The gents led all the way to the final leg when, with just one missed quoit on the home straight, they left the door open for the ladies to come storming through to an exciting triumph. Great stuff. This now opens an even bigger lead for the ladies on the year long score. The latest is:

GENTLEMEN 12 - 20 LADIES

Well done ladies. Tomorrow the gents have a chance to pull one back with a return appearance for me at the lovely St Michael's School in Wimborne in Dorset.

Frome Valley History Society

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Perhaps I shouldn't have stood so close.

I had been contacted back in November by a very nice chap called John Darneley from the Frome Valley History Society inviting me to come and talk to the group at Rampisham Village Hall on the 1st February. Now I knew where Rampisham was, but wasn't too sure on the exact whereabouts of the village hall. Therefore on Saturday afternoon just gone, inspired by the nice weather, I headed off down the Dorchester road to Rampisham to find out where the village hall was hiding. I drove down through the pretty winding road with pleasant cottages dotted along it, but no sign of the village hall appeared. I drove past a rather battered and damp looking dull green glorified nissen hut - surely that couldn't possibly be the... oh....it could. Yup, it was. Confirmed by a passer by, this was the village hall for Rampisham. "It's having some work done on it at the moment!" he said brightly. Yes, it needed it as well.

All joking aside they are doing a wonderful job bringing the village hall into the 21st century. It is a work in progress thanks to the lottery commission and will be brilliant when it is finished. Turns out it was supposed to be a temporary build from the first world war and here it is still standing in 2010! With all the heaters on, some subdued lighting and a group of about 25 people we had a great evening! The group seemed to really enjoy themselves and I had some good banter with a number of the people there, particularly one charming lady who was a retired health visitor. A really nice pleasant evening.

Up bright and early tomorrow for a drive over to Porlock and a first visit to St Dubricius First School. See you there!

Shillingstone Primary, Dorset

Henry VIII, shortly after resigning as President of the Vegan Society.

Ah, the sweet knowledge that the school year has begun again! Good King Hal was back on the road again today for the first show back on the circuit after the summer hiatus. It was a half day today at a little village called Shillingstone near Blandford Forum in deepest, not very darkest, Dorset. I made a joke on my Facebook page today that Shillingstone hadn't gone to the decimal system yet, but no one seemed to get it. (SHILLING-stone? 5p-stone? Geddit? No, most others didn't either).

Shillingstone Primary School is a delightful, tiny, early Victorian school building with various other bits bolted onto it, like some sort of random built meccano educational establishment. Added to this is the fact that the place has no parking whatsoever, so I had to park on the busy main street to unload my Henry gear and then park about 500 yards along this same road in the tiny car park of a Church Hall. This lack of car parking has now induced the good people of Dorset County Council and Shillingstone to re-locate the school to new premises on the edge of the village. A new build is taking place and they are promised to be in at about this time next year. Fingers, eyes and legs crossed that is.

Today was just a half day, but terrific fun all the same. The group was about 25 children from years 5 and 6, and they had only just started studying the Tudors, but there was still plenty of good Tudor general knowledge on display. Lots of giggles and laughs, lots of nice compliments from the lovely teaching staff and a jousting tournament that started quietly but soon built up to a fine crescendo ending with a well deserved victory for the ladies team. Perhaps I should try and keep score again? OK...

GENTLEMEN 0 -1 LADIES

Watch this space for more! Thursday I am at Manor Court School in Chard, from thence to Penrith in Cumbria to open a new showroom for my friend Andy Blundell's antique furniture restoration business, and then off to Disneyland in Paris with Amanda and James.... Phew. I am exhausted just thinking about it.

Two Days at Barrington Court, a Holiday at Chavoncy sur la Mare, a new car and a visit to Wales!

There is no finer place to be on a hot summer's afternoon than at Barrington Court near Ilminster. I was really looking forward to my two days wandering round the old pile again - it was just a shame my old mate Matthew Applegate wasn't around as he was off enjoying a well deserved holiday in France. I was left in the very capable hands of his new "apprentice" Kate Churchill who did a wonderful job. I was there for the Saturday and the Sunday, however on the Sunday I also had another pressing engagement - my own holiday! Many years back I would regularly go camping with some friends from Essex and we would venture off into the wild West Country and have a good time. We had all decided we should do this again and, even though I now live in the West Country myself, it was to be the way out west we'd head again. So on my first day of holiday I was also to be doing a 4-hour stint at Barrington Court. We were to be camped at Freshwater Holiday Park in Burton Bradstock in Dorset. Therefore on the Sunday I dropped my wife, son and about three tons of camping equipment at Burton Bradstock and then skedaddled back to Barrington. The walkabout at Barrington went well on the Sunday, particularly with three lovely, but insane ladies from the West Midlands who had come down especially to see me. One of the ladies in particular kept hugging me and telling me what a "darling man" I was. Should have gone to Spec Savers, bless her.

Now back to the Holiday Park... When I had first arrived in the morning my impression had been "Oh My God..." It was a heaving mass of humanity perched on a beach. Caravans were EVERYWHERE. The actual area for tents was not bad, but you were crammed in tight, in a sort of cheek-by-jowl arrangement. Added to which the rest of the people camped on the site seemed to only have football shirts, tattoos, cigarettes and swearing to keep them entertained. We therefore quickly christened the site Chav-on-Sea, but if you say that quick enough it sounds like an exotic French seaside town - Chavoncy! We were soon all singing along to the tune of "La Mer" with our made up words of - "Chavoncy, sur-la-Mer, La merde de chien sur la plage" etc etc. Now on the plus side there was a great swimming pool which my six year old son thought was the best thing since sliced bread, and the toilet and showering facilities were excellent and kept almost pathologically clean by an army of Lady MacBeths, scrubbing away at any "damn spot" they came across. It could be quite noisy at night as well, when the chavs got a bit too much "Yob gas" or "tart fuel" inside them, and it was quite pricey as well, so I don't think we'll bother with that campsite again. It was nice to see all my friends despite that and we had some lovely days out at places like Maiden Castle, Bovington Camp and a brilliant curry house in Bridport on the last night! (The Taj Mahal if you were wondering).

On heading for home briefly, I stopped to say a fond farewell to my old Peugeot 406 which I had part exchanged for a Mazda 323, which despite being five years old only had 12,000 genuine miles on the clock. Lovely!

Barely pausing to wipe the grin off my face, Amanda, James and I were then leaping into the said Mazda and roaring off to Welsh Wales and a visit to my parents at their new home in Newcastle Emlyn. We have just got back from that, Amanda and James have vanished off back to Essex and I am sitting here gasping for breath while the dust settles around me. I need a holiday after all that. But not in Burton Bradstock. Hell, no!

Thorncombe Village Fete

When I appeared at the Barrington Court Mistletoe Festival last November little did I know it would lead to this day! On one of the various stalls that day, there was a lovely lady called Heather Upham and she had connections with the village of Thorncombe, which is in Dorset so ignore all the rubbish I said before when I said it was in Devon! She had contacted me and wanted to know if I could come and open the fete, which I was more than happy to do. It was a lovely day today and Thorncombe is a delightful little village. The main event was happening in the school and next to the village hall. It was quite a set up, with a big hog roast (which was delicious), lots of very professional looking stalls selling bric-a-brac and second hand books, a raffle, tombola, fighting medieval knights (the same group who I met at the Ilminster Experience last year), face painting, bowling, archery and even horse rides on little ponies for the kids.

I declared the fete open and had a good wander round the site. A couple of people came up who had seen me at previous events and there was one very nice lady who knew me from listening to my various appearances on the BBC Somerset programmes. Next I was judging the craft competition which the children from the school had taken part in. There was a performance by the Merriott Majorettes who's music was louder than Concorde at take off, followed by a demonstration of line dancing which personally I found a perfect advert of why you should go and find something else to do with your life. Anything. Taxidermy, golf, strangling invertebrates - anything is preferable to line dancing. Finally I drew and called out the results of the raffle and was then finished. It had been a hot busy day but very much worth it. A lovely day and hopefully lots of money raised for the church and school. And a big "HELLO" to the lovely lady who had seen me previously at Dillington House and has promised to come and see my show at Barrington Court in September.

St Michael's School, Wimborne

For the fourth year running I had the pleasure of driving down to Wimborne in Dorset for another visit to St Michael's Middle School. This is a wonderful school. I cannot praise it enough! The teachers are always wonderfully welcoming and the kids just magnificent. Some of the costumes the children had got together were out of this World today.

The drive down to Wimborne is a nice one, taking you down through Dorchester and along the Troy Town by-pass, past Athelhampton and then along the A31 till you turn off into the quaint little town of Wimborne. The river looked quite swollen today, spilling out over the fields around and making the area look like it was surrounded by a small sea!

St Michael's has undergone a bit of a face lift since my last visit, but I soon got my bearings back again. The morning was fun and seemed to go past in a flash. I had an extended break as there was an assembly, but it was soon back into the hall and the morning activities were over. I was treated to a lovely lunch of macaroni cheese and a big shortcake cookie for afters!

The afternoon was wonderful. One of the teachers, a pretty young lady, had dressed as a boy street urchin, so we soon dubbed her "Bob" in deference to the character played by Gabrielle Glaister in BlackAdder II! The poor dear, she then ended up getting nominated for a visit to the stocks. The jousting was another good one, with the boys for once sneaking a victory over the ladies.

I had a nice leisurely drive home and I am really looking forward to my visit to Countess Gytha School in Queen Camel tomorrow.

The Abbotsbury Play

This weekend has been a bit of fun. I had been invited by my lovely cousin Ann in Portesham, Dorset, to appear in a small community play taking place at St Nicholas' Church in Abbotsbury. The play had been written by a lovey lady called Tito and consisted of the potted history of Abbotsbury as a musical! I had two major scenes - one opposite my cousin Ann's husband, Jack in which I played Henry (there's type casting for you!) and Jack played the Abbot of Abbotsbury Abbey. I spend the whole scene trying to wangle the keys to the Abbey from him. I do finally manage it, with the words "That'll do nicely, sir!" Then I do some of my usual Henry talk, only this time with some of the children of Abbotsbury portraying my wives and children. It was great fun and seemed to get a fabulous reaction from the audience.

The rest of the show was wonderful village entertainment, very parochial and sweet. Reminded me of the way Laurie Lee described the village entertainments in "Cider With Rosie".

We all came on for a curtain call at the end, and I was lucky enough to get a big cheer and even a standing ovation. I am glad they enjoyed it so much! It has been a really fun weekend working with these lovely people. I really hope they do another show soon!

In The Pipeline

Greetings, Peasants! Welcome to 2008! The year ahead looks likely to be a nice busy one. I am back at Leeds Castle for a few jousting events in the summer, plus over the second May bank holiday weekend I am back at Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire. I am making an appearance over a weekend in March down at Abbotsbury in Dorset, plus a weekend at Barrington Court in April.

Schools coming up inlcude Dene Close Prep and Grange Primary, both in Gloucestershire, Beauherne in Canterbury, Kent and St Michael's in Wimborne in Dorset, among many, many others.

I will be back on BBC Radio Somerset within the next couple of weeks (now broadcasting on FM as well as good old MW!) and after my recent publication in The Guardian newspaper I am soon to be immortalised in a periodical of equal gravitas - namely the "Real Life Stories" Magazine. You heard it here first folks.

So a happy new year to all my friends. Here's to a great 2008.