I'm Ready For My Close Up, Mr DeMille...

The King finally discovers the reason why men wear cod pieces.  This was a mere 37 seconds before someone invented the hat stand.

I'd only just finished another weekend at Hever Castle, so guess where I was on the Wednesday and Thursday?  Yes!  Lerwick in the Shetland Islands.  I jest.  Of course I was back at Hever Castle, but this time to film the long awaited and promised comedy short "The Six Wives of Henry VIII in 2 Minutes and 19 Seconds".  I had put together a script and Hever had sorted out some ladies to play some of my wives, but it was down to me to sort out the final few.  I called in the lovely Zarrina and Louise from Tudor Gowns, naturally I had the wonderful Michelle Coda and her other half Matt on hand, plus there was the lovely Katherine Miller who only lived up in Greenwich with easy access to Hever.  My final choice for a wife was a bit surprising.  It was my old mate Ian Weston from Portals to the Past - he was to play Anne of Cleves, and he did it marvellously.  Vivien from the Hever Marketing Department was on hand to help out with any problems we might encounter, plus of course we had Doug Bolton from Maveryk TV as our camerman/lighting engineer and soon to be editor and sound effects wrangler.  Well we had two fantastic days to film our little epic and it was such a fun time.  I can honestly say I have never had more fun or been more knackered at the end of a Tudor related event.  It was lovely to work with a group of people where there was no egos, no delicate personalities and no squabbles or back biting.  We just got on with it and had a terrific laugh in the process.  The photo above shows the lovely Helen Reeves from Hever Castle with her friend Charlotte (also from Hever staff) with Matt Rentell as the Priest and yours truly as Henry VIII in a scene we shot early on the second morning, of Arthur and Catherine of Aragon's wedding, followed very swiftly by the marriage of Henry to Catherine of Aragon just after Arthur pops his clogs.  Even Ian Weston, a veteran of numerous film shoots for cinema and TV said that the two days had been the most fun he'd ever had on a shoot, and this from a man who has worked with Ridley Scott!  Take THAT Ridley!  So thank you Hever, thank you Vivien, and a massive thanks to Zarrina, Louise, Katherine, Michelle, Matt, Ian, Helen, Charlotte, all the staff who work at Hever and helped us out so much, and most of all, to Doug Bolton for his genius with a camera and his help and advice in making this dream a reality.  Watch out for when we post the finished item here.  And anyone I have forgotten to thank here - SORRY!

I was back at Hever for Friday and Saturday for two more days jousting.  It was two pleasant days, aside from the near biblical flood we had on the Saturday.  Our costumes were drenched and poor old James, my lovely son, fell over twice on the rain sodden walk back to the Castle and promptly announced on our arrival back in our dressing room: "I WANT TOMORROW OFF!"  And so he did.

Sunday and Monday found me driving back up to Castle Hedingham in Essex for the final two days of jousting for this summer with the Knights of Royal England.  We had two lovely days in near perfect weather, but by now most of the jousters were running on empty and even the young ones seemed to be flagging.  But we put on two good shows on each day and got some tremendous feedback from all those that watched.  So another summer of jousting comes to an end and I have about four days to myself before the schools all start again and it's back to rushing round like a Tudor blue arsed fly!

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!

More Mistletoe Fayre Funne...

Meanwhile, in an all night gas-lit pecan-nut crushing emporium on Streatham High Road, octogenarian Algerian wash board wrangler, Attila Corn-Plaster, heir to the fortune of Barbara Cartland's cartographer and first solo pianist to plummet off Niagara Falls and not live, has discovered the Nazi blue prints to Ethel Merman's diving bell fixated Persian cat-tweaking mobile laundry service on an S2 bus calling at Rokeby Street, West Ham Lane, Whalebone Lane and the Portway. A cold front has swept in from the arctic bringing war, death, pestilence and famine to western Yeovil. Police describe the situation as normal for a Sunday. And now here's Carole Kirkwood with the weather. Carole?

The second day of the annual Barrington Court Mistletoe Fayre dawned colder than yesterday, but there was certainly less snow around. As I arrived this morning it was very pleasing today to see that the car park was full to bursting, this meant we were due more people than the slightly disappointing turn out we had on Saturday. I was right, but it also meant that I had trouble finding somewhere to park. Luckily I ran into Matthew Applegate (not literally of course) and he allowed me to park in the private spaces tucked away around the back of Barrington Court and for use by the people who live in the apartments in Strode House.

It was a great turn out today, and some very nice stalls. I myself purchased some wonderful home cured smoked bacon and some pork and leek sausages. Lovely! I also got to meet some wonderful people all of whom seemed to be in very high spirits - apart from one. There was a heavily bearded man walking around pushing a lady in a wheel chair, who I assumed to be his mother. I chatted to the lady in the wheel chair, who had a face like a smacked arse, and then after speaking to the man with the beard I realised why she was so miserable. The first thing this Rasputin look-a-like said to me was "I heard a programme about you on Radio 4 the other night..." This made me nervous straight away as I find Radio 4 something of an enigma. I call it Radio Smug as it seems to have this air of being a closed club that only some people are allowed into. And I intend to stay that way until Kirsty Young allows me to be on "Desert Island Discs". Anyway, I am getting off the point. The Rasputin look-a-like continued and said "It was all about the disgraceful way you treated Catherine of Aragon." Before I could get a chance to say anything, he went up a gear. "You were a MONSTER to that poor girl. A MONSTER!" Foam was beginning to form around the sides of his mouth. At this point I tried to point out to him that I was in fact an actor (obviously a bloody good one to get this sort of reaction), but he carried on chuntering away before wheeling his long suffering facially downcast mother into another room. Thank God that was over. About an hour later I bumped into him again, this time on his own. On each day of the Fayre we had a Mummer's play which was performed in one of the upstairs rooms. Rasputin wanted to know if there was access to the upstairs of Barrington Court for disabled people. I told him there was only a lift in Strode House and therefore not any real possibility of getting his joy-free Mother and her wheel chair up to see the show. He simply hissed the word "pathetic..." and stomped off towards the toilets, preferably to fall into a blocked urinal and choke to death on a bleach cake. And would serve him right. But this miserable git aside, everything was good today. And so was the cricket.

Next week I am back to Nelson Junior School in East Ham for my 4th visit! Should be a good one. South East, here I come.

Cwmduad (and that's not a spelling mistake)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dillington House Open Day 2010

Good King Hal (left) doing a very presentable impression of a garden gnome at Dillington House.

The Dillington House open day is always good fun. Lots of people to meet, interesting stalls and set ups, and a few jokes and laughs along the way. I have to admit this morning when I first woke up I had some doubts as to whether it would take place at all today. Rain was lashing against the window and the skies were low and moody. Not ideal for a mostly open air event. But as the morning progressed, the skies started to lift and though never a roasting bright sunny day, the threat of rain slowly dissipated.

If you are unaware of Dillington House, then let me illuminate things for you. I could write out a long and not very well put together history of Dillington, whereas I think the best thing is if you just click here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dillington_House which will give you all the information you need. A wonderful fascinating building.

The open day is an annual event where Dillington shows off it's facilities and the sort of courses you can study there. Denise Borer, one of the managers at Dillington, books me every year to come along as Henry and wander about. It is always good fun and was no different this time around. I saw lots of old familiar faces which was delightful, and met some new ones as well. I posed for various photos, dished out a few business cards and just had a lovely time being Henry again! Then, right at the end, whilst preparing to go home I bumped into.... VALERIE SINGLETON! Yes! Valerie "Sticky-Back-Plastic-Incontinent-Elephant-Get-Down-Shep" Singleton. Now I know someone who worked with her in the past who had said she could be a little...ahem...difficult, but today she was an absolute sweetie. She was very complimentary about my Henry costume and performance, and came across as a very nice lady.

The photo above was given to me today by a very nice photographer who had snapped it 12 months ago at the last open day! He has offered to email me some more. Smashing. Tomorrow morning I am on BBC Somerset with Emma Britton between 9am and 10am - if you don't live in the Somerset area you can always listen on line via the web. Wednesday I am back for my first Henry day of the new academic year at Newbury in Berkshire.

Barrington Court on a Bank Holiday

A large erection in the gardens of Barrington Court. And on the right, a sun dial.

Summer is reaching it's climax with all the usual signs that we see so often. Temperatures are slowly ebbing away, back to school adverts are dominating the airways and the Pakistan cricket team are embroiled in another controversy. And so the World keeps turning. Another sure sign that summer is fading is the request to come over to Barrington Court on a Bank Holiday Monday and have a quick stroll round the gardens. And on a day like today, truly nothing could be finer. The sky was a Canaletto blue, the wind but a gentle breeze, the sun was a warming and trusted friend in the sky, and only one bloke asked me that stupid bloody question about which wife was I with today. Can it get any better than that?

We had a really good turn out today, the over flow car park was over flowing - that's how busy it was. I wandered the gardens and met some lovely people. It would appear the town of Bideford was empty today as nearly everyone I spoke to was from there. There was another family where the father had a strong Scottish accent. I asked him where he was from - Yeovil was the answer. You haven't always come from Yeovil, I said - where are you from before that? His response? Cornwall. Eventually I got it out of him that he was originally from Edinburgh, but the first two answers made me laugh. There was another little boy who every time he saw me would burp alarmingly and then burst out laughing. Possibly something that is tremendously amusing when you're six.

Matthew Applegate looked very relaxed and sun tanned after his two week break in France, and we are sure to be getting together soon for another session of "choir practice".

All in all, it has been a pretty nice day, and sitting here now with a cool breeze coming in the windows, a fine sunset across the valley and the distant bells of St Bartholomew's Church pealing across the other side of town there is no where else I really could want to be.

First new Henry show will be on 8th September in Newbury in Berkshire. But before that I might just put another wee advert on Ebay...

Rain, Summer Holidays, Chickens & a Guinea Pig

Enough said, really!

I have a new string to my bow - oh yes. No longer am I just a former telephone installer, AS400 operator, Dad and mock Tudor Monarch - I am now officially the world's worst chicken keeper. With the summer holidays upon us I had the pleasure of looking after my son full time for a few weeks - something I always look forward to. It was decided pretty early on that James and I would be spending a large part of this time down in Wales at Newcastle Emlyn with my parents, known to James as Nanna and Bapa. So armed to the teeth with James' PSP, DS and Nintendo Wii (just what you need when visiting one of the most beautiful countries in the UK!) we struck out west. The majority of our time would be spent at leisure doing proper holiday things, but we had a period of a few days looking after my sister's small holding near Cynwyl Elfed, and in particular, her chickens. James was very excited about this, but it was an excitement I was pretty sure would wear off after a couple of days of muddy toil.

The week began with blazing sunshine and heat, so of course one of the first places we took James was the cinema to see Toy Story 3 - in 3D. This was at the Apollo Cinema in Carmarthen, which if you have never visited, you really must as it is a wonderful place. James, his Nanna and I all donned our snazzy 3D glasses and thoroughly enjoyed the film - a work of genius. It was just a shame the support film, usually one of Pixar's strong points, was so utterly crap. Other visits included a day trip to Poppit Sands near Cardigan where we built a sand castle and then flew a kite in the strong breeze - great fun, stopping for excellent fish and chips at St Dogmael's (a shop called Bowens) on the way back. We discovered a great smoothie and ice cream bar in Carmarthen called Cowpots (http://cowpotsicecream.co.uk/) which I cannot recommend strongly enough. On another day we went back down to Laugharne, Dylan Thomas' stamping ground, and had tea at the delightful Owl and the Pussycat Restaurant. I met up with my old Skandia colleague Carole Davey again at her lovely pub/restaurant The Daffodil at Penrhiwllan (see their website here http://www.daffodilinn.co.uk/) for a fine meal. James carried on his valiant efforts to teach Nanna how to play Super Mario Brothers on the Wii console, which to give her her due, she was really getting the hang of it by the time we came to leave! James also took great delight in snuggling up with his Nanna to watch his favourite Indiana Jones movies of an evening on DVD. And a really big shout out to Harrison's Cafe in Newcastle Emlyn which is friendly, welcoming and has the most charming proprietress (if that is even a word) you could ever wish to meet. She is also very easy on the eye - another winner as far as James and I are concerned!

Soon it was time for James and I to become chicken wranglers. The balmy summer weather had long since scarpered and our first night of trying to get the chickens into their run took place during the Welsh equivalent of Hurricane Catrina, in the near pitch dark on a small holding which was doing a very passable impression of the battle field of Passchendale transferred to the north face of the Eiger. We slipped, we slid, we slithered. James cried. I swore a lot and the chickens went "bwock? bwo-ock?" but we did eventually get the feathery buggers in their home. James insisted on going into the run to put them to bed as it was slippery as hell in there and "you might hurt yourself, Daddy". Bless him. I think he was just worried that if I fell over he wouldn't have a snowballs chance in hell of levering me into an upright position again. So we looked after all 10 chickens, Buffy the goose, Bear and Marley the cats, and even Ted the shaggy guinea pig. And do you know what? James NEVER got bored of it once! He loved it! Oh sure we had some bad moments - the day I nearly broke my hip when I slipped and twisted in one agonising movement on the steeply sloping bank down to the chicken run, and the time James had collected six eggs, put them in his basket and then promptly slipped over and fell on them. He was devastated poor little mite. "I'm so sorry!" he kept saying, but I re-assured him and despite his upset and the fact he was caked in mud he was soon ready for more chicken related fun. Each night when he finally locked the door on the chickens he'd shout "Bingo!" We cocked up on a few things - I put the chicken's water back in the wrong place on the last morning causing it to drain out of their drinker so that when Sue got back that afternoon the poor chookies had no water - just mud. I had also managed to do something to their food hopper which meant their feed wasn't coming out properly. If chickens were covered by the NSPCC I'd be in prison by now... But all in all, for first time small holders I think James and I did pretty well.

I drove James back to Essex on Monday of this week and he had a lovely cuddly reunion with his Mum. I drove back to Somerset yesterday and I am missing him so much. He is my pride, my joy and my love. I feel like I have lost a limb today and I really can't wait to see him again.

Henry VIII returns this weekend on the Bank Holiday Monday where I will be appearing at Barrington Court for a garden walkabout. Come and meet the King between 12 noon and 4pm.

King For Sale

Yes, I have done what I threatened to do some time ago. Good King Hal is for sale on Ebay! You can now bid for a day with the King. Honestly, it was either this or prostitution, and frankly I would have starved. So sign into Ebay, the UK version, look for a seller called "fleaflinko" (don't ask) and you should find one used King Henry VIII for sale to the highest bidder. Come and grab a bargain! Don't leave me as a remainder on the shelf! Best before: 27.01.1547.

Henry's Horrid History, Barrington Court, July 31st-August 1st 2010

Every once in a while, an historical event occurs that changes the course of human history...


This coming weekend could be one of those moments...
(But to be frank, it probably won't be as it's just some big ginger lummox in tights pretending to be a Tudor King)


This Saturday, July 31st and Sunday, August 1st, Mike Farley The UK's leading Henry VIII look-a-like and re-enactor will be strolling the grounds of the idyllic Barrington Court, a National Trust property in the village of Barrington just outside Ilminster in South Somerset. To prove that walking upright and breathing oxygen are not his only discernible talents, Mike will then perform his hour long one man presentation "Henry's Horrid History". There'll be laughter, tears, badly played Tudor instruments, enormous tights and more sub-Carry On humour than you can shake a stick at.

Mike will be wandering the grounds and leaping out of hedges startling old ladies from 12 noon, with the "Horrid History" show taking place between 2pm and 3pm on each day. Contact Barrington Court on 01460 241938 for more information.

Because with your Hampton Court, no one can hear you scream.
Henry's Horrid History
Rated (R) for Regal.

Norton sub Hamdon & Brent Knoll

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

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

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

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

GENTLEMEN 20 - 26 LADIES

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

Parson Street School, Bristol

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

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

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

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

GENTLEMEN 16 - 24 LADIES

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

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

Canterbury Cathedral

Good King Hal, mere nanoseconds before being savagely hoofed in the shins by another delighted fan.

Visit Kent came calling again! They have been very good to me of late with them using me at shows at such diverse places as Dover Cruise Terminal, the ExCel Arena in London and the Kent County Showground at Detling. Today was another new place for me to visit for them, and that was Canterbury Cathedral. It was a promotional reception for English Teachers based in the Calais area of France and encouraging them to bring school visits to the county of Kent for their pupils. I had been requested to be at the Cathedral by 11.30am for a photo shoot at 12 noon. I duly arrived just after 11am to be told that things were "over running a smidgen" and that the photographer for the shoot had already come and gone. I got changed into my Henry gear and was then taken to a "Green Room" to sit and wait to be called. I had a small speech they wanted me to give, welcoming these people to Canterbury, and then the idea was that each of the 150 or so teachers would be given a number, there was a number of stalls advertising different attractions in the Kent area ranging from Chatham Dockyards, Charles Dickens World, Hever Castle, Penshurst Place etc. to apple orchards and Kentish websites, they would have five minutes with each stall, I would then blow a whistle and ask them to move to the next stall - a sort of business expo version of speed dating really. Finally I was informed that I wouldn't be needed until 1.30pm. So I sat down for a rest only to be called outside for a photo shoot with a different photographer. With that I went back to the Green Room to find some food had been brought for me. It was smoked salmon and cream cheese on half a bagel. I HATE smoked salmon, but it seemed the only thing coming so, through gritted teeth I ate it. I had just finished the last agonising mouth full when another bloke came in with another plate of food for me. Doh! This was all very nice and I scoffed that quite happily.

Finally I was brought into the main hall area, but there was no need for me to do announcements and blow a whistle or two as, after their lunch, most of the French teachers had decided to go into Canterbury for some retail therapy. Eventually a load of them came back and wandered round the stalls and I did my usual circulation of the room, chatting, flirting, having a laugh or two with them. It was nice to see some old friends from Hever Castle and Penshurst Place, plus also Anna and chum from Rochester Cathedral. However by shortly after 3pm most of the French folk had wandered off. By 3.30pm stall holders were putting things away and it seemed time to head for the car. I drove to Cathy and Julian's for a couple of hours, so the rush hour could die down, and then after that it was up to Basildon to see Amanda and James again.

Next week I am off to Norfolk on Tuesday for a school at Gorleston, then on Wednesday I am up to South Witham in Lincolnshire for a visit to the village school there. It will also be a nice chance to see Agent 99 again!

St Cecillia's, North Sutton, Surrey

On re-reading my blog from years gone by I realise how boring I am. I use the same jokes over and over and over. Check out my previous write ups about visits to St Cecillia's School in Sutton in Surrey. Every single time I say "you wouldn't want to try and say that with a lisp!" And here I am typing it again. I promise I will NEVER, EVER repeat that joke. Not until I do the same school again next year, obviously.

After the rigours of the Chut Fest over the weekend it was a bit of a shock when my alarm went off at 4.30am. I was up showered, shaved and shomething elshe and out of the front door by 5am. The early part of the drive was fine as it was on the A303 which was mostly deserted, but as soon as I got to the M3 it all changed. Even at 6.30am it was packed. How can people do this every single day of their lives? Things were made worse by lots of roadworks, so I had the distinctly odd feeling of actually being glad to see the M25 when I got there.

It was nice to be back at St Cecillia's. It is amazing, but this lovely little school in North Cheam is the school I have visited the most since becoming Henry VIII full time. This was my 6th visit in total. As ever it was a very friendly welcome from everyone, from the lovely caretaker onwards. The children had all dressed in fantastic costumes and were a delight to talk to - even if they were a little quiet in comparison with some of the groups I have worked with at St Cecillia's in the past. The afternoon was a real riot of fun and games, and the jousting was of a very high standard. And the result - I know you are all waiting for that. Well.... the ladies romped to ANOTHER victory. This now makes the score a quite remarkable:

GENTLEMEN 0 - 4 LADIES

Come on, Gents! This is just not good enough. Let's see how things pan out tomorrow. I have another very early morning start as I am off up to Balliol Lower School in Kempston again for a third visit. Should be fun, if tiring!

That Was One Hell of a Week That Was Part One

So this was the beginning of a week that would test my powers of endurance, the suspension of my new car and the limits of my bank balance. It all began so innocently! I have a very dear old friend called Andy Blundell who I know from way back when we were pub buddies back in deepest darkest Essex and The Hoop Pub in Stock near Billericay. I had not seen Andy since 1997 but somehow we had just about managed to stay in touch despite him travelling widely to places like Australia, New Zealand, Tonga and many other far flung destinations. He was now back in blighty, living near Penrith in Cumbria (his home town), married to a lovely lady called Kate and with two lovely children called Daisy and Dylan. He was also running a very well respected antique furniture restoration company called Phoenix Antiques. During one of our long distance telephone calls some time ago Andy mentioned that he would be opening a new Antiques showroom near his home in Temple Sowerby just outside Penrith. I offered to come up to Cumbria and open the showroom in my full Henry gear and so the date was set for 12th September. I drove up on the 11th, the Friday, which was an incredibly stupid idea. The M6, the main road up to the Lake District and Scotland is, as any tourist route is on a Friday (see the A303 down here for proof of that) packed solid, added to which some complete tit somewhere in the country had decided it would be a quite fabulous notion to dig most of it up at regular intervals along it's length. A journey from Somerset to Penrith should (according to my sat nav) be about 5-6 hours. It took me nearer 9 hours. I arrived knackered and aching, but Andy and Kate made me very welcome and we ended up sitting in their lovely house in Temple Sowerby eating a late night takeaway curry and drinking champagne! Wonderful.

On the Saturday morning I nipped up the road to the local Centre Parcs just outside Penrith, to visit my old friend John Summers who recently finished working as Estate Manager at Leeds Castle in Kent and was now working as Technical Operations Manager at the big tourist resort. He welcomed me kindly and gave me a guided tour of the site in one of their groovy electric vans. It's a wonderful place and I think John is enjoying working there. It was nice to see him looking so happy.

Back at the new showroom things were gearing up for the launch party. I got changed into my Henry garb, drinks were prepared for the coming guests and a ribbon was placed over the door for me to cut with a pair of scissors. Soon the guests were all there, I did a quick hello to them all, cut the ribbon and the new showroom for Phoenix Furniture Restorations was open! Many people came and all in all it seemed like a big success.

That evening, after all had quietened down, Andy, Kate and I hit the mean streets of Penrith to celebrate. We had a few drinks at a couple of very trendy bars (not my usual stamping ground, but very nice and entertaining) and then headed for a local Mexican restaurant. It was full. So we wandered round to a local Italian restaurant. This was also very busy but the manager assured us a table would be free soon. And it was and we found ourselves next to Radio 2 and 6 DJ Stuart Maconie. We were actually pretty well oiled by this time and were probably quite a pain in the bottom, but Stuart was very kind and chatty and we had a nice time with him. The meal was lovely and we drank far too much more champagne and were soon in a taxi heading back to Temple Sowerby.

A late night is probably best not followed up by an early morning and a long drive. But guess what happened next...?

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.

Dillington House Open Day

Good King Hal, in his luxury dressing room today, with what appears to be a box of matches exploding in his hands.

Dillington House is a delightful place. I have been wondering on how to best describe this gorgeous Elizabethan house, but thought it best to leave it to themselves. This is how Dillington House describes itself on it's own website:

"Dillington House is Somerset County Council’s residential centre for professional development, adult education and the arts. Founded in 1949, it has been offering lifelong learning opportunities for over fifty years. The arts play an important role in creating the unique ambience which is Dillington. Although Dillington House is wholly part of Somerset County Council it operates without public subsidy and is responsible for meeting all of its costs.The Main House dates back to the 16th century and is one of the most beautiful houses in Somerset and features in Simon Jenkins’ book England’s 1000 Best Houses.
The accommodation is in a range of bedrooms, most of which are en-suite, that are located in the House, the Mews or the Hyde. Dillington House is neither an hotel, college nor simple conference centre. It is uniquely something special at which everything and anything is possible. Standards of service and accommodation are very high and Dillington remains the only establishment to have been awarded 5-stars by the English Tourism Council under their “Campus” quality assessment scheme."

I really honestly could not have put that better myself! Well, today was their open day and for a second year running I was invited along to wander the house and grounds and chat to people. This year seemed a lot busier than last year, but the weather was pretty much the same, overcast and blowy, but not entirely cold. Three lovely old cars sat sentinel on the front gravel driveway. A massive 1936 Rolls Royce, an equally gargantuan 1929 Lanchester and a very cute 1935 Rover.

As you can sort of see from my picture above, my dressing room was a luxurious affair. It was one of the lovely en-suite rooms you can have at Dillington House and was sumptuously furnished and very comfortable. I bumped into lots of friends from Barrington Court, a lady I had done a BBC Somerset show with and even one of the couples from the Chard Historical Group meeting I spoke to. I had a lovely packed lunch, more wandering, but by 4pm my back was aching and I felt it was time to go. It was a fabulous day and Dillington House is definitely worth a visit.

Next Henry show is on Tuesday at Shillingstone in Dorset.

More Rochester Castle Pics!

Henry VIIIth showing Anne of Cleves an old trick he learnt in the Army. The ancient monument in the background is Hans Holbein. Behind him is Rochester Castle.

Henry meets Anne of Cleves in Rochester!

Hans Holbein shows Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves his etchings. Some day his prints will come.

I am ashamed to admit something. I had never been to Rochester in Kent before. There, I've said it and I feel better for getting it off my chest. After doing various bits of work for Visit Kent at the ExCel Arena in London and down at the Dover Cruise Terminal (see various blog entries in the past about all that) my name had got to the good people at Rochester Cathedral and Rochester Castle. Now Rochester looms large in the history of Henry VIII as it was at this Kent city that our rotund Tudor hero first met Anne of Cleves, his fourth wife. The Cathedral people had decided to cash in on the 500th anniversary of Henry's accession to the throne in 1509 by staging a "re-enactment" of this first meeting, which originally didn't go very well - luckily our interpretation of it seemed far more successful.

I had driven down to Kent on the Monday afternoon and stayed with my sister and her husband at their lovely house near Sittingbourne. We had a lovely evening eating curry and then Cathy (my sister) and I spent the rest of the night jamming together on guitars and mandolin. Fun fun fun, but probably not if you were a true music lover. The following morning I drove up to Rochester, as I have said before, my first visit to this lovely city, and it truly is lovely to look at. The castle and Cathedral, sitting cheek by jowl, are amazing to see. I was lucky enough to be able to park right next to the Cathedral's back door! I was then introduced to the actor playing Holbein for the re-enactment - a really nice man who I think was called Andrew, but if I have the name wrong I apologise profusely. Then entered the actress playing Anne of Cleves, a delightful little lady called Kiri Bloom - a name you don't forget in a hurry. She had made her own costume, which was brilliant, and additionally she was only 4 feet 11 inches tall, so she looked very sweet and vulnerable next big nasty old Henry. The plan for the day was simple, we would ponce around the Cathedral for a while to begin with, having promotional photos taken and also speaking to any press that turned up (the only press that turned up was BBC Radio Kent) before making our way round to the war memorial outside the Cathedral where we would do our two interpretations of Henry's meeting with Anne, one at 11am and one at 12 noon. We would be preceded by Rochester's town crier who would announce us and on we'd go. A script had been drawn up the day before the show, but we were only to use it as a vague outline of what to do, improvisation was the name of the game today. The two morning presentations went very well, lots of laughs and impromptu asides and the audience seemed to enjoy it. The second one was probably the best of the two.

We were treated to a sumptuous lunch at a pub near the Castle called the something or other Vaults - didn't quite catch the name, but it was very very good. It was fun walking down the pub with all three of us still in costume. After lunch we were up at the Castle wandering about meeting people and we were requested to do the interpretation again - and so we did for a third time! More fun! Then it was back to the Cathedral another little wander about and then that was about it. A really fun day.

I drove back up to Essex, met up with Amanda and James and we then drove up to Maldon for an evening meal with Kevin and Ann Rowley and their lovely mostly grown-up children, Rachel, Charlotte and Michael. It was a perfect end to a very lovely day. Tired today, but happy.

Broadford Primary School, Harold Hill

It's not often that I get bookings in schools this late in the academic year.  I had been contacted by a lovely lady called Alex Rutherford who had invited me to Broadford Primary School in Harold Hill near Romford.  This was a completely new school for me, and they had heard of me through one of their teachers who had previously seen me at Nelson Primary in East Ham. Apparently Broadford was previously an aircraft hanger, probably from the Second World War, which then became a school in the post war years.  The outside of the school doesn't really inspire confidence as there is a mass of corrugated iron on display, but once inside you are presented with a wonderfully friendly school, welcoming and bright, with some terrific children and some of the nicest teachers I've met inside the M25!

The school were having a mega History week with various visits from Spartans, and other historical figures.  On the day I was there some of the smaller children were having a Victorian day and several of their teachers were swanning around in long skirts and flowery high collared blouses.  I kept half expecting to see Sue English leaping out of a cupboard dressed as a Viking at any moment, but thankfully that horrific moment never happened.

We had a fine day with some fun and laughter mixed in with all the learning.  After my opening talk the children wanted to quiz me with various questions they had written and it turned into something of a press conference with the King!  I was bombarded with questions but it was fun. After a lovely lunch of lasagne we were in the main hall again where first the children gave a demonstration of their singing prowess, followed by a Tudor dance they had been learning.  We then went for a full on jousting session which was hilarious, particularly one of the ladies teams which was so laid back that a team of three-toed sloths with no enthusiasm would have lapped.  The final was won by a very talented ladies team who came storming back on the last leg to pip the gents in an exciting finale.  After a quick teacher's race it was time to close the 2008/09 academic year - it has been a good and very busy one including my 500th visit to a school, so good things all round.  At the end of the day I was informed by some of the children and teachers that despite everything else that had been going on, and all the other visits they had experienced during their History week, my show and presentation had been the best, most informative and entertaining.  I was most flattered, it was very nice of them to say so!

I have a quick holiday in Wales next week but I will soon be back in Henry work donning my tights for the Southchurch Hall Tudor Weekend at the beginning of August.

Leaning towards Shaftesbury

Now all you lovely people out there in cyberland will no doubt recall my appearance at the Abbotsbury Midsummer Medieval Merriement event that I wrote about last month. Well, whilst at this event I was approached by a lovely American lady and her English husband who were sumptuously attired as King Henry VIIth and his wife Elizabeth of York. They informed me that they were opening an antiques shop in Shaftesbury, Dorset and wondered if I would be available to do a grand opening of the shop as and when it happened. Well blow me down, at the beginning of the week there is a message on my answer phone from the lovely American lady (Becky) asking me if I could come along this Saturday and do the red carpet, ribbon cutting and hand shaking duties as and when needed. I said I would be delighted.

Saturday evening was a filthy night, gloomy and lots of rain across the west country. I arrived at the shop at about quarter past seven having promised Becky I would be there between 6.30 and 7.00. It was packed out with guests, all drinking wine and beer, and nibbling on canapes. The shop is called Leaning's, or just Leaning Antiques, I was never quite sure of this! Anyway it is at number 5 the High Street in Shaftesbury (which is a delightful little town) and the shop is wonderful. I quickly got changed into my gear and then came into the main part of the shop. They had laid out some red carpet and stretched a ribbon across the top of a small set of stairs that led up to the back showrooms. I boomed out how pleased I was to be back in Shaftesbury and apologised for smashing up their Abbey during the Reformation. I also told people I hoped that my appearance might in some small way make up for the awful way I behaved last time - this raised a titter or two! I cut the ribbon - just! The scissors weren't very keen on going through them, and we got a big round of applause.

I wandered round and chatted to lots of lovely people, including a lovely older lady who was originally from Bearsted in Kent and from her bedroom window as a child, she could see Leeds Castle - funny old world, innit? I even chatted to the Mayor of Shaftesbury whom I am led to believe was a bit miffed that I got asked to open the shop and not him. This was proved when he got me in a back room and tried to give me a Chinese burn. I replied by giving him a wedgie and finally finished him off by pointing out that my chain of office was far bigger than his. He left a crushed and defeated man. I left with a small table/jardinaire which looks good in my hallway and with some travel expenses from the lovely people at the shop. Go and visit them if you're in Shaftesbury - it is worth a visit!