Sent to Coventry and then a quick Bath...

Good King Hal and Natalie Dormer.  Good King Hal is the one on the right, just in case you were having problems telling them apart...

Ah, the jet set lifestyle of the rich and famous mock Tudor monarch.  One minute you're at a book launch, rubbing shoulders (and sadly no other anatomical parts) with Natalie Dormer, then you're prancing around at Blenheim Palace with a fine jousting team, next thing you know you're in Coventry.  Huh?  Coventry?  Yes, Coventry, that jewel of the West Midlands.  While the rest of the Knights of Royal England were going off to silly boring old Sweden, here I was in the ex-industrial heart land of Britain.  I drove up on the Tuesday, and it was horrendous.  There was something of a bank holiday weekend hangover, with lots of ****ing caravans plodding along in various lanes they shouldn't be in on the M5, then just north of Bristol, towards Cribbs Causeway, there had been a God-awful smash up and the traffic decelerated down to walking pace and then non-movement.

When finally through this impasse the rest of the journey passed without much incident.  It was still blisteringly hot as the weekend had been.  I was looking forward to getting to my hotel and unwinding.  I was actually at a Travelodge (yeah, I know, I know) in Nuneaton (yeah, I know, I know) and soon my sat nav was telling me I was nearly there.  I followed it's instructions and soon found myself driving into a very deserted looking industrial estate.  Could this be right?  I turned from bigger roads onto smaller roads and smaller roads, then my sat nav bonged happily and announced I had arrived at my destination.  I was in a dusty side road by a deserted former tyre fitting unit.  I got out of the car for a nose round, and sure enough, behind the deserted former tyre fitting unit and, more importantly, behind an impassable solid looking brick wall, was my Travelodge.  So I drove back to the main roads, which with it now being 5pm were absolutely chocka block and attempted to get to my hotel.  I eventually found it, more by luck than design.  It was just off the A444, hiding behind a grotty looking petrol station.  I shouldn't complain really as the petrol station was going to be my version of Claridge's restaurant for the evening.  So I bought some grub from the petrol station,  went back to my stiflingly hot room and tried to pretend that I had actually enjoyed freezing my b******s off back at Knebworth House.

The next morning dawned cooler, and a lot damper.  Rain had fallen heavily in the night and was continuing to do that for an encore in the morning.  I soon found the school - Whitmore Junior, and as I was there ahead of the teacher who had booked me, I brought all my stuff in and set it up in the main hall.  Anita, the lovely lady who booked me then arrived and told me I was in the wrong hall, as they had two halls for this school.  But with some help from two other teachers and use of a big trolley we moved all my props down to the correct hall.  The teachers at this school were really lovely all day and could not do enough for me.  It was very kind of them.  We had a fantastic day with a group of children just setting out on the subject of the Tudors, but they already had some pretty good knowledge.  We had a fantastic morning and an even more fun and silly afternoon.  The afternoon joust was a really good one and ended with that rarest of things - a win for the gents!  So thanks to Whitmore Junior our score goes to:

GENTLEMEN 16 - 23 LADIES

The journey home was back through some horrendous weather - driving rain and increasingly strong winds.  And there was me complaining about the heat less than two paragraphs ago.  I got home, had a Chinese takeaway and contemplated an early night, but this plan was scuppered by me, as I managed to fall asleep on the sofa and wake up at just after midnight.  And then when I got into bed properly, I couldn't get off to sleep.  Typical.

Thursday found me back at Bathampton School in the delightful canal-side village of Bathampton, near Bath, naturally enough.  It was a morning only with a combined year 2 & 3 group.  It was lovely to be back.  Last time I had visited was in 2011 and I had helped open a new set of classrooms for them, by cutting the ribbon in front of the assembled press.  It is a lovely school, and I am particularly fond of it as they have one of the most stunningly attractive finance officers I have ever seen.  He's called Bernard... No, he isn't.  He is a she and I shall keep it to that to spare her blushes, but she is just "goyjus".  (GKH blushes enormously).  Anyway, the morning was fun.  I did my opening Henry talk for the kiddywinkies, then they did a Tudor dance for me.  We then did my Tudor quiz, then they sang me a song or two, and finally after I had played my instruments back to them, we had a jousting tournament, just before lunch.  It was loud and fun, and once again, much to everyone's complete amazement, we had another win for the gents.  This must be the first back to back win for a long time.  Anyway, our score goes on to:

GENTLEMEN 17 - 23 LADIES

This could get very interesting.  I loaded all the stuff back into my car, then stopped briefly for petrol on the way home.  As I was driving out of the forecourt of the petrol station I happened to glance up and noticed the most revolting huge hairy moth parked not two inches from my eyes, just looking at me.  I leaped on the brakes and screeched to a halt.  Now some people have phobias about spiders - for me, nothing. Some people have phobias about snakes - ha!  I laugh in the face of a King Cobra!  But show me a big hairy arsed moth, with those horrible grippy clawed feet they have and I tend to turn into a loose bowelled screaming shivering wuss.  As I did here.  I clambered out of the car, trying desperately to look more like Chuck Connors than Charles Hawtrey, and on leaving the door open shoo-ed at the moth with a large piece of paper.  It dutifully flew off with wings making a similar sound to a Chinook helicopter power lifting a tank across Salisbury Plain and I managed to stifle an further girly screams.

And when I got home my voice started giving out, so at this moment I can confirm my manly testosterone fuelled roughtie-tuffty-ness as I currently sound like Barry White when I speak.  However show me a moth and Charles Hawtrey will come leaping back onto centre stage.  Good King Hal is back on parade at Barrington Court this weekend for another summer wander round the gardens.  I hope to see you all there.

Le Temps Viendra Book Launch (with added Natalie Dormer for good measure)

Three roses, and a Tudor prick, all shamelessly plugging the book that EVERYONE MUST BUY!!!!

It has promised to be a very prestigious evening, and it delivered!  I had been asked by my friend Sarah Morris to appear at the launch of her first novel, "Le Temps Viendra" which was to take place on a river boat cruising up and down the Thames in London, with many guests including some very well known faces.

The early part of the day I had spent in Essex for a visit to my son James' school for his annual statement review.  All the school people were very pleased with him and it was a delight to have seen him make such excellent progress.  I left the school and headed down to Kent to spend some time with my lovely Shelley.  She very kindly gave me a lift to Maidstone East station to catch a train up to London for my appearance at the book launch.  Despite vast numbers of gobby school children the journey up was relatively pleasant and I arrived at Victoria Station with plenty of time to spare.  The taxi rank had masses of annoyed customers and virtually no taxis, but eventually I managed to grab one.  I jumped in the back and tried to strike up a conversation with my driver.

"Had a busy day?" I asked.  He looked at me in his rear view mirror and said nothing.  Perhaps he hadn't heard me.  So I tried again.

"Had a busy day?  Today?" I ventured, a little louder than the previous time.  Once more he studiously ignored me.  I could see what all of his concentration was focused on, and that was driving like a demented twat through very heavy traffic.  He carved up cars, bikes and buses with a complete lack of any fear or common sense, roaring up behind the car in front as though he was trying to get on board with them.  By the time we arrived at Westminster Pier for my drop off I was ready to kiss the tarmac in thanks for a safe delivery.  I went to pay him for this terrifying ordeal and as he wound down his window I decided to get my own back a bit.

"It has been such a pleasure chatting away with you on this journey....thank you...."  He looked blankly at me and prepared to roar off and terrify some more customers.

At the top of the steps next to the famous Victorian statue of Queen Boudicca, various idiots dressed in crappy Shrek and clown outfits posed for photos with tourists, and then demanded money off them afterwards for this intrusion.  Various heated arguments began from people who hadn't realised that their photo was going to cost them money. I waited at the pier head amongst some "lovely" French students, and was soon joined by the band Waytes and Measures who had previously worked with me on various visits to Sudeley Castle.  Next to arrive was the top historical author Alison Weir, and shortly afterwards Sarah Morris herself who looked absolutely stunning in a 1940's style figure hugging dress.  Finally, my Queen for the evening, dear Katherine Miller, arrived with her parents, so we wandered down to the pier end where our launch, the wonderful vessel "Edward" was waiting for us.  Upon boarding we found that there was only one room suitable to get changed in, so Katherine and I had to take turns to get into our Tudor togs.

Once changed we were soon upstairs in the viewing lounge where the whole presentation was going to take place.  Alison Weir was very approachable, especially after her third or fourth glass of champagne! As the daylight dimmed and London became illuminated the city just looked magical.  The new Shard building loomed out of the darkness and resembled some tower from "The Lord of the Rings" movies.  We cruised down past other river boats, many of who's passengers were started to see Henry VIII and one of his wives on our boat.  Drinks and food flowed, as did the conversation and the entire evening was an utter delight and a perfect way for Sarah to launch her book.  The "Edward" cruised as far down as Greenwich where the O2 Arena stood out like some sort of sci-fi dome in the Stygian gloom.  The meridian laser stood out stark from the Greenwich observatory and the Cutty Sark, in it's newly fitted surroundings looked incredible. This was turning into a magical night.  After speeches from Sarah's publisher, Alison Weir and Sarah herself we began the return trip back up the Thames to Westminster Pier.  It was a pleasure to meet and speak to the beautiful Natalie Dormer who had famously portrayed a very sensual and sexy interpretation of Anne Boleyn in "The Tudors" TV series.  She was an utter delight, friendly, chatty and staggeringly beautiful.  As you can see we managed to get some great photos of Sarah, Natalie, Katherine and myself all clutching copies of Sarah's excellent book.  We later went up onto the bow of the boat and Katherine Natalie and myself mucked about pretending to re-enact the bow scene from the movie "Titanic".  Luckily we managed to avoid any icebergs and arrived back at Westminster Pier just before 9pm.  I bid fond farewells to all the lovely people who had turned up on this special night and had supported Sarah on her big event.

I disembarked and walked up to Westminster Bridge and awaited a pick up from Dean the taxi driver, the fine man who normally takes Sir Owen to school each morning.  He picked me up by 9.30pm and soon I was whisked back to my lovely Shelley in Maidstone. It had been a superb, fantastic evening, but I was absolutely cream crackered.  Well done to Sarah on a brilliant evening.

Ilchester, sir! Quite staggeringly popular!

A tense moment during the opening rounds of "Ye Stryctlye Comme Pavanning" from 1538. Amazingly the programme was being presented by Bruce Forsyth even then. And he was still utter crap.

This was my first Henry show back after the long Christmas and New Year lay off. It was a nice gentle re-introduction with just a short drive over to the town of Ilchester just off the A303. Life would have been easier if my pathetic sat nav could actually find the place I was going to. It had barely heard of Ilchester, let alone the road I was striving to find. Somehow, through a mixture of blind luck and asking a startled looking old man out walking his dog I managed to find a school. Not THE school, just A school. It was Ilchester Primary (Infants) and I was looking for Ilchester Primary (Juniors), so with a new set of directions ringing in my ears I was off again, and very soon at the place I needed to be. I was welcomed and let in by the school caretaker, a lovely friendly lady - which was a nice change. The only previous female caretaker I can recall was the one at Boxted near Colchester who looked like Daryl Hannah (the caretaker that is, not the school).

This is a lovely school, I cannot say how friendly I was welcomed or how kind and generous all the staff were. It was as if they had all known me for years which was absolutely wonderful. It was a big group of children today - over 90, but they were all absolutely terrific. Fun, buzzy and ready and willing to laugh and learn, something that always makes my job so much easier. When I was doing the talk about the fate of poor Anne Boleyn, I did my usual thing of choosing one of the female teachers at random to play the doomed Queen. As I approached the bit about the beheading, a small girl in the audience just dissolved into tears - it turned out it was this teacher's daughter and she was worried I was really going to lop her Mum's head off! The teacher I had chosen had the absolutely delicious name of Mrs Custard! I shall allow my hallowed readers to make up their own jokes at this point, but feel free to post the best ones to me...

Lunch was a delicious roast pork and then we were off and flying for the afternoon session. It was a riot, loads of laughs aplenty and much fun for everyone it seems. We finished off with the inevitable joust which went down to the wire before a very competent ladies team romped home to victory. This now makes the ongoing scores:

GENTLEMEN 11-13 LADIES

I headed for home and then indulged in a highly unhealthy Chinese takeaway, but to be honest I couldn't face the idea of cooking. Tomorrow I am up bright and very early for a drive up to Hereford and a return visit to Riverside School, before then driving on from there to visit my parents for the weekend in Wales. There's lovely.

Return to Knightwood

"And that" said Good King Hal with a certain glint in his eye, "is when you know you have the woodworm completely surrounded. Now release the hounds!"

Ah, dear old Knightwood Junior in Chandlers Ford. Chandlers Ford? Why would candle makers want to have a ford? Answers on a post card please to: Candle Makers And Their Ford (Not a car), Good King Hal, c/o Hampton Court Palace, Hampton Court Palace Road, Near the maze, London. Anyway, whilst pondering that, dear reader, also ponder on this - today's visit was my 7th appearance at this lovely school. SEVEN? I can't believe it. The drive down was, in comparison with the forced march to Ventnor on Sunday evening was a doddle. I arrived at about 7.45am and was soon inside and re-introduced to the caretaker of the school, the highly esteemed Lee. This gentleman is a real gem (I have to say all this as I know he reads this blog - hello Lee!). As ever he warmly welcomed me and soon had a welcoming cup of tea in my hands. What a star.

It was a lovely group again today - about 60 kids, the vast majority of them in fabulous Tudor costumes, and though they had only recently started their topic there were some real gems of Tudor knowledge out there already. True, there were also subtle moments of gob-smacking daftness as well. For instance when I was explaining about Henry and other rich Tudor's eating habits, I mentioned about some of their nasty habits of over-eating and then...er..."purging" themselves by forcing a long feather down their throats. I began this innocently enough by just showing the children a long feather and asking them what they think Henry did with this long feather half way through a meal. There were the usual answers such as "write a letter" and "tickle his tummy", but I told them he tickled something else with it. One little girl then shouted out in a triumphant voice that she knew the answer - Henry very obviously stops a heavy meal to nip outside and tickle a horse with a feather. It was so blatantly obvious I was amazed I had never thought of it before. The genius of children.

The afternoon session was a pleasure and ended with an inevitably loud jousting tournament that ended with another victory for the gentlemen. This makes our latest score:

GENTLEMEN 5 - 6 LADIES

The drive home was frequently threatened with lumpen grey skies that promised vast amounts of rain. But there was the occasional downpour, but nothing long term. Eventually the weather cleared and my journey was rewarded with a quite stunning sunset as I drove along the A303. A lovely end to a good day.

I am up to Essex on Sunday to see my lovely son, James, then I have shows at Royston, Norwich, Harwich and Fyfield on the Monday through to the Thursday. I shall be rich and exhausted.

St Cecillia's Junior, North Cheam

Mary, Queen of Scots, busking outside Hampton Court just before being moved along by the Police and her subsequent triumphant residency at Fotheringay Castle.

If it's October then it must be a visit to St Cecillia's RC Junior School in North Cheam, near Sutton in Surrey. This was my EIGHTH appearance at the school, if you can believe it. Eight long years since I first arrived there. Of course coming all the way from Somerset does warrant a bit of an early start, to say the least. When the alarm clock went off at 4am it was a bit of a shock to the system. However, having said that, there is no finer time of the day to be driving up the A303 - the place is decidedly quiet and empty and all the better for it. I made very good time and was soon on the M3. This is really the only part of the journey where one might hit trouble and sure enough it was very busy, even at 6am in the morning. It made a change to turn onto the M25 and find it was a quieter road. It would be like moving to Kabul and finding there were less explosions there. Mind you, if you lived in Basildon during the November 5th period, then it might just work.

St Cecillia's is a fine school and it was a delight to be back - I was warmly welcomed as ever by their friendly care taker. I have absolutely no idea who this gentleman is, but he is always a delight to talk to and is welcoming and friendly. He let me drive my car in and unload the props, and then it was time for a very welcoming cup of tea. I was then introduced to the two teachers looking after Year 4 at St Cecillia's this year - two new ladies who had never seen my show before. They were dressed in their Tudor finery as were all the children. It was a group of about 60 pupils, all full of beans and dying to know more about Henry VIII. During the morning session I was telling the children about the horrors of the plague hitting Tudor England and about some of the insane "cures" people tried to come up with, one of which was they thought the plague was being spread by cats and dogs. So they slaughtered all the cats and dogs, and of course the rats (whose fleas were really spreading the plague and were having their numbers kept down by the cats and dogs) quadrupled in their population size and the plague got ten times worse. Well, I had just mentioned this information when a little lad put his hand up with a question - I asked him what it was. He said "what about the tigers?" I was a bit confused. Tigers? Yes, he meant tigers. What about them? Well, he said, they're a type of cat, so what happened to them? This really tickled me. I suddenly had all these ideas of the Tudors keeping Tigers as pets. i.e. taking them for walks and being horribly mutilated/trying to put the cat out for the night and more mutilations. Great stuff.

I munched some lunch in the staff room then it was back for more amazing Tudor revelations. I was doing my musical talky bit and playing my instruments and I was asked by one child if all the Tudors were musical, I mused that they probably were to a lesser or greater degree. Another child put his hand up. Yes? Did any of them play the spoons he asked. I told him Mary, Queen of Scots was a sod for whipping the spoons out at most social gatherings. I did various impressions of her singing such great Tudor melodies as "Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty" and "Let's All Go Down the Strand, Have a Banana". The jousting was good, but ruined in the final by the gents team cheating unashamedly and thus being disqualified. This let a very good ladies side in for an easy win. Our score is now:

GENTLEMEN 4 - 5 LADIES

I am next on parade at this weekend for my mate Roland Bearne's wedding in Surrey. Should be lots of fun.

Today has been nice and relaxing, I did some shopping over at Tesco's at Ilminster and was alarmed to discover that Uncle Peter from the "Smell of Reeves and Mortimer" had decided to have a sex change operation and then work on one of the tills there. DONKEY! It's amazing who you meet.

St Paul's School, Shepton Mallet

Good King Hal blowing a raspberry on the back of Anne Boleyn's hand.

The weather is very slowly coming back round to being the correct temperature for this time of year. But it was still uncomfortably hot today for my latest visit to St Paul's Junior School in Shepton Mallet. Thank the Lord for air conditioning in cars, that's all I can say. The drive up the A37 can be a bit of a bind sometimes, but today wasn't too bad at all. I arrived at the school almost smack on 8am and parked round the rear near their outdoor swimming pool. I signed in and soon had everything loaded into the main hall. The staff are so generous and kind at this school and they soon had me supplied with cups of tea, jugs of water and somewhere to get changed for the show. I was put on hold for a while as a school assembly took place, but was soon out and on show as the day began. They were a very lively bunch - about 60 of them all from year 4, and full of giggles - almost too many at times. It was a fine and loud morning - I got changed into my civvies for the lunch, which turned out to be a very tasty quiche, but I sat in with the children in the dining hall for this. Not a good move. Frequent cries of "HENRY!" or the more puzzling one of "You know you're not the real Henry VIII!" - as though I wasn't aware, constantly ringing in my ears.

The afternoon was equally deafening and ended with a good jousting tournament. This got off to a slightly truncated start when during the first gents race both teams managed to get themselves disqualified - a first for me! I re-started the race and we got on our way. It was closely fought throughout but ended with another win for the Gentlemen. So our scores are now all square again.

GENTLEMEN 4 - 4 LADIES

A nice drive back through the warm early evening sunshine. I cooked a pasta bolognese containing Quorn mince for my dinner. I am sorry, I have really tried to like it, but Quorn just tastes disgusting. Not for me any more.

Tomorrow it is a very early start for a drive up to St Cecillia's School in North Cheam in Surrey - my EIGHTH visit to this fine school.

Parwich Primary, Derbyshire

Good King Hal attempts to bring peace to the Middle East, however the child is obviously a music lover and appears to be trying to escape.

I had never done a Henry show in Derbyshire before, so this was a real first for me. I was going to be driving up from Essex having spent some time with Amanda and James. Once more I was booked into one of those charming characterful Travelodge places, so beloved of all commercial travellers. Now my sat nav is not the most reliable thing in my possession at the moment, and on the Travelodge website it suggested you typed in another post code for the hotel than the one it officially had. Who was I to argue with that? I followed the sat nav's directions all the way up to the outskirts of Ashbourne near the Peak District, and then headed off for where it assured me the hotel would be. WRONG again. Nothing - not a sausage. I found a small petrol station and wandered in through the driving rain to ask for directions. The nice lady behind the counter smiled at me as I came in. Before I could even say a word she said "You're looking for the Travelodge, aren't you?" Was I that obvious? Apparently EVERYONE who goes into that petrol station and doesn't buy fuel has been sent there by their sat nav with the post code given to them by Travelodge in the first place! Or was she making an unsubtle pass at me? No, of course she wasn't.

I drove back the way she had shown me and saw that the hotel stood in what was basically glorified waste ground with only a Harvester-style plastic pub anywhere near it. Now I love pubs, good old fashioned English pubs. These modern plastic pubs have about as much in common with a proper English pub as I do with Jonathan Rhys-Myers. Yes, we both play Henry VIII but only one of us is even vaguely attractive to the opposite sex. So the idea of a plate of "Surf'n'turf with a complimentary salad bar to visit, and with a nice foamy pint of John Smith's Smooth Flow to wash it all down!" filled me with shuddering dread, so I was far more pleased to see that there was a Marks and Spencer food store just up the road, and so I headed there to stock up for the evening. I came back, checked into the hotel and wandered up to my room. It was a much newer hotel than the one I stayed in recently when in Shrewsbury, with the only difference I could see that the room was smaller and the bathroom considerably so. My car was one of only three in the car park at that time. I had just settled into the room when I heard the unmistakable sound of stiletto heels on concrete outside - being the nosey git I am I peaked out the window. There was a dazzling glamorous blonde lady in a steaming clinch with a man in a business suit. I looked on in awe as they appeared to be on the point of devouring each other - and what were they doing coming out of a nice Travelodge at about 4pm on a weekday? Perhaps they worked there! Perhaps they had just finished a hard shift stripping beds and replenishing complimentary tea and coffee sachets in the rooms and were congratulating each other with a vacuum like snog in the car park? They eventually disentangled each other and got into separate cars. As they drove off I could see a baby seat in the back of the business suited man's car. Now I may be putting two and two together and making 5,834, but my immediate thought was "what a bastard". I hope I was wrong.

I was up bright and early this morning and was soon driving up through the delightful town of Ashbourne and out into the countryside to find Parwich. In the drizzly incessant rain everything looked a bit grey and depressing. I soon found it and eventually the old Victorian School. I had only been there a few minutes when Laura Smith, the teacher who had booked me for the day, arrived. She was absolutely charming - one of the nicest ladies I have met in a long time. The plan was to do the morning "talky" stuff in the school classroom, and then in the afternoon to travel down to the village hall for the jousting etc. A bit like we had done at Broadclyst in Devon recently. It was a smallish group of about 26 children with a range of ages from years 3, 4, 5 & 6. Quite a few of them had come along in fabulous Tudor costumes. We had a great morning and finished off with a lovely meal of sweet and sour pork - delicious! I then moved all the gear down to the village hall, a delightful brand new building with a fine resonant main room. I went into the large disabled loo to get changed before the children came over and was horrified to discover an enormous "Richard the Third" lurking, unflushed in the toilet there. It looked like King Kong's finger and was rapidly flushed away by yours truly. The deeply worrying thing about it was that it was lying in the pan completely on it's own - no used toilet paper! ARGH! Did the person who gave birth to this leviathan simply haul up their trolleys at the end of the session and, unable to contemplate the thought of drowning their new born dreadnought, simply waddled off into the sunset? It scarcely bares thinking about. Anyway, rapidly changing the subject, the afternoon was a belter with a fantastic stocks session followed by an even better jousting tournament. We were joined by the infants from years 1 & 2 to cheer on the teams for this, and in culminated, yet again in a fine win by a very good ladies team. This now makes our score:

GENTLEMEN 20 - 24 LADIES

They are starting to get away again! I finally packed away, said goodbye to Laura Smith, and was on my way home. Parwich looked so much nicer in the bright sunshine - a really beautiful place, very quaint and definitely worth a return visit. I'll be back! I left Parwich at about 3.40pm - I arrived at my place in Crewkerne at almost smack on 7pm, tired but pleased to be home again for the first time in well over a week. I have tomorrow off, which must be an April Fool Joke of some sort or other, and am next being Henry on Monday when I make a return visit to Noremarsh School in Wootton Bassett in Wiltshire - close to where Andy Partridge lives in Swindon! HELLO ANDY!

Hazlegrove and Heaving Chests (Ooh-er!)

Good King Hal starring in the latest blockbuster "Babe 3 - Pig in a White Wine Sauce, with shallots, aubergines and potato rosti, all served with a nice chilled Chablis". Certificate 18.

My son has a certain temper with inanimate objects, when they won't do what he wants them to do. Sadly, I can hide this no longer - he gets this from me. And with me it isn't even inanimate objects. If anything isn't doing what I want it to do, it is in danger of being smashed to pieces or thrown across the room. I am usually this same intolerant idiot when it comes to being ill. Now I have just finished my week long run at Leeds Castle and it is usually when I am there that I fall ill with a bad chest - but I have waited until the week after to get all yukky. Now, whenever I lie down my chest goes bubble-bubble-wheeze and I begin coughing and sometimes can't stop for several eye-watering minutes. This is where my temper with inanimate objects goes to a new level, as I get so angry with my lungs for not working properly I just want to rip them out, squeeze them dry, run them through a mangle and then stuff them back in again. As I can't actually do this for real (please, children at home - DON'T try this) it means I have been having terrible trouble sleeping of late. So the night before I was due to drive to Hazlegrove School near Sparkford in Somerset I gave up on my bed after a couple of wheezing coughing filled hours and headed instead for the warm comforts of my almost world famous "Coma Chair" (C) Mike Farley 2010. Now I knew not to sleep with my feet on the floor as this could bring on such horrors as deep vein thrombosis, scurvy and Mongolian Luirghi Fever of the Fallen Arches (or something like that). So I dutifully stuck my legs up on a stool, stuck on the latest recorded edition of Neil Oliver's "History of Ancient Britain" and as predicted I promptly fell fast asleep.

I woke up at some damnably early hour and found that my feet had at some point in the night fallen off the stool. I was now blessed with ankles that felt remarkably like over ripe cantaloupe melons. I still felt ill and my chest burbled away merrily as I drove up the A303 to Sparkford, pausing only to cough alarmingly and wipe my watering eyes. Hazlegrove School is in a remarkable old house that apparently, I was informed later, was once slept in by Catherine of Aragon... or was it Katherine Parr? Well it was one of them. Mind you, the amount of places I have been in my time as Henry VIII and been told that one of the six wives once slept there, or that Mary I slept there, or Queen Elizabeth had eaten a Ginsters pasty there etc. The other one I get all the time is mostly American women coming up to me at events and telling me they're related to Anne Boleyn. Well so am I - we're both mammals for Christ's sake. Anyway, I am getting off the subject.

Hazlegrove School was lovely, the teachers were unbelievably friendly and helpful and very sympathetic to my burbling chest and frequent Krakatoa cough explosions. The kids were great and called the usual private school names like Hector or Ned, or Jensen or Barry (not really). The lunch was lovely, a very tasty roast pork with veg and roast potatoes. The afternoon session went very well and finished with two of the finest jousting teams you will ever see, but ended with the Gentlemen's team just sneaking a narrow victory over a very good ladies team. This makes our score:

GENTLEMEN 16 - 19 LADIES

I felt totally wasted after the show. Just exhausted and burnt out. All I could think of was that I was due to get up at 4am the next morning and drive three hours up to Shrewsbury for a visit to Mereside School. To be honest I just couldn't face the idea. I needed rest and lots of it. When I got home I called Mereside and they were lovely - they said it was fine and the show has now been postponed back to the 14th March. Phew. This meant I could have a lie in this morning and get better, and you know what? I feel much better for it. Therefore the next Henry day is now on Monday at The Hills School in Bedford.

Malvern Wells & Broadclyst

Peter Paul and Mary after an accident with a codpiece and a time machine. The man on the left used to frequently smash custard pies into Chris Tarrant's face. What a great bloke.

Now why is it, when you have to get up early you cannot get to sleep, yet when you have a day off you can't keep your eyes open? This happened to me on Wednesday night - I knew I had to get up pretty early as I had a nearly 2 hour drive to get up to Worcestershire and Malvern Wells for a visit to a school. However, whenever I put my head to the pillow for a snooze my brain would immediately start questioning me as to what the heck it thought I was doing. I was sorely tempted at one point to surrender and succumb to the "coma chair", but in the end that wasn't necessary.

Malvern Wells is a lovely area, pretty houses and delightful countryside. Malvern Wells school is pretty wonderful as well. The teachers are all lovely and friendly, none more so than the very pretty Ella Jones who had booked me. Now you really know when you're getting old when the teachers are closer in age to their pupils than they are to you! Ella was lovely - very friendly and helpful and was absolutely right when she stated how wonderful her class were. They were brilliant, quick witted, and a delight to work with from start to finish. The only problem I had with the school was finding somewhere to get changed! There was a toilet down near the hall where I was working, but it was so small I couldn't even get my suitcase in it, let alone my not inconsiderable bulk. In the end I had to use a kitchen, but it only had a sort of half sized cottage door on it, so I had to make doubly sure no one was around before I started whipping my gear off. The afternoon was brilliant and ended with another thrilling jousting tournament, finally culminating in a long waited for win the for the Gentlemen.

GENTLEMEN 11 - 15 LADIES

That helped the gents score a lot. It has been a long time since I had visited a new school and had such a good time before, but Malvern Wells was a big hit with me! Great stuff. The drive back wasn't too bad either, but I had to be up early the following morning as well - not as early as for the Malvern visit.

Today I was on my way down to Devon and another visit to a new school - Broadclyst Junior School just outside Exeter. They had heard about me from reading about my frequent visits to the Maynard School. The day today was going to be distinctly odd - firstly I wouldn't be in the school as they no longer have a hall at Broadclyst. So instead I found myself setting up in the village hall just round the corner. (And boy, what a village hall! Delightful, gleaming and looking like it has only just been renovated!) Added to which I was doing two completely different groups in the day. In the morning I would be with a combined year 5 & 6 group, while in the afternoon I would have a combined year 2 & 3 group. The morning was with about 120 children, and it was superb! The children were funny, sharp, and just as with it as the Malvern children had been the day before! Wonderful stuff. Loads of laughs and they even videoed a large part of my performance which they are promising to send to me. I'll see if I can upload some of it to this blog or the website. The morning finished with a pulsating tournament that ended with yet another win for the ladies.

GENTLEMEN 11 - 16 LADIES

Just when the gents thought they were getting back into it...

The afternoon session was a bit more of a slog, as (a) I was tired by now and my cold addled throat wasn't very happy about being used again, and (b) being only years 2 & 3 the group were quite immature after the older group of the morning, and consequently were more hard work. But it was still fun and loads of laughs. And just to keep an even keel - the gents won the afternoon jousting!

GENTLEMEN 12 - 16 LADIES

How exciting is this getting? OK, not at all, but I don't care!

I have tomorrow to myself (a real rarity) then I am driving up to Essex on Sunday. I have a couple of days in the south east next week, then back to Somerset for two more days down here.

Redstart School, Chard

The above picture is either (a) Good King Hal whacking his head on a low roof, or (b) proof that he has a halo. Please send your answer, with a £50 note to: Good King Hal, The South of France Villa Appeal, Knackers Row, Catford, near England.

For all the long distance staggering about I do, occasionally (just occasionally) I get a really local show. So local in fact, that it is the travelling equivalent of opening your front door and simply falling forward onto your face. This was that toppling forward. I first went to Redstart School in Chard about six years ago - then never heard from them until about six months ago. I went and did a Tudor day with them, and here I was much less than a year later being invited back. It's like waiting for a bus. Six years and nothing, then two come along at once.

Redstart is a lovely school. The children were terrific, great fun and in some brilliant little Tudor costumes. All of the staff and the teachers were a delight and couldn't do enough for me, almost to the point of waiting on me hand and foot. I am not complaining, honestly, just ever so slightly embarrassing. It was a year 4 group today and they were at the very beginning ominously quiet, and I wondered if the day was going to be difficult. But they soon warmed up and were a delight to work with. Loads of laughs, some great Tudor knowledge and a nice relaxed air with everyone just enjoying the day.

I had a lovely lunch with my dinner being brought to me in the staff room by a poor lady with a bad back - she was in great pain but insisted on getting the meal for me. Didn't she know I wasn't a real King??? The air was so relaxed and convivial in the staff room that I very nearly drifted off into a peaceful sleep - but just managed to catch myself before I started snoring.

The afternoon was great fun. The kids just loved the stocks session, bless 'em, and then the jousting was an absolute classic. Two very good teams, who could have quite easily won any other school visit I had done, but it was, rather inevitably, the Ladies who romped away for a very good victory. This now makes the score:

GENTLEMEN 10 - 15 LADIES

The boys are beginning to be left behind. This could get very one sided. I am next back on the road tomorrow morning with a first visit to a school in Worcestershire with a visit to Malvern Wells School in....er.... Malvern Wells. An early start.... YAWN.

Something Old, Something New....

Good King Hal, taking part in one of his favourite pass-times - international pro-celebrity wench hugging. He is now up to Olympic standard and is rapidly going blind.

And so it was to be back on the road again, two visits coming up, one in Essex and one in Hertfordshire. My first trip was on the Wednesday with a return visit to Tolleshunt D'arcy, the wonderfully named village near Maldon in Essex. I hadn't visited this school (St Nicholas') for a couple of years, but it was nice to be back. The trip to the school was entertaining, but not in a very nice way. My sat nav, halfway out of Basildon (where I was staying) suddenly decided to just freeze up completely. I tried turning it on and off but all to no avail, it would not pick up the route I needed. In the end I had to remove the data chip and put it back in making the whole system re-boot. But it seemed to work, the sat nav picked up the route again, only to then lose it again. And again, and again. Over and over it kept losing the satellites. It was a wonder I made it to the school at all! But I did. It was nice to see the teachers I had worked with before, including the glamorous TA who was a dead spit for the gorgeous Linda Lusardi! It was a small year three group, which was hard work occasionally, but most of the time they were a good, lively group and seemed to thoroughly enjoy their day with the King. The jousting was a lively affair and finally culminated in a long overdue victory for the Gentlemen! This made the score:

GENTLEMEN 10 - 13 LADIES

I left, and then encountered more problems with the ****ing sat nav. My predicament was not helped by the A414 down to Danbury and the A12 (my route home) was shut for no adequately explained reason. With the sat nav badly mis-firing I had to find my own way home. I eventually drove out back to the A12 via Hatfield Peverell. I was very glad to be home. That evening my wife and I took James (my lovely son) off to his karate lesson - this was only his second lesson, but he seemed to really enjoy himself. They certainly keep them moving there and by the time we got him home he was cream crackered!

The following morning I was up very early for a drive up to Ware in Hertfordshire for a visit to St Mary's Junior School. I was not sure how well my sat nav would behave so I took along a spare unit, quite an elderly one, that my wife has acquired as a sort of "belt and braces" approach. Typically, just when you thought it would be a day of frequently re-booting my sat nav, it worked perfectly. I got to the school very early, so decided to go off and find some petrol so I wouldn't have to stop on the way home. Apparently, they have never heard of petrol stations in Ware. I drove round and round and round, and eventually was forced to use the naughty sat nav and ended up driving nearly half way to Hertford before I found one. Mind you, it turned out to be worth it as the very attractive young lady who served me also turned out to be gobsmackingly dim as well, as she only charged me for my petrol and not the sandwich and drink I had bought for breakfast. The actual Tudor Day itself at St Mary's was a delight. This is a lovely school - great kids, lovely teachers and a warm friendly atmosphere throughout. It was a memorable first visit and a delight from start to finish. The jousting was a rollicking affair with so much noise. But a seemingly small and unsure ladies team stormed through to a remarkable victory! This now brings the latest score as:

GENTLEMEN 10 - 14 LADIES

I have a couple of days with my lovely son in Essex now, before heading back to Somerset this weekend. My next Henry appearance will be at Redstart Primary in Chard on Tuesday. I am looking forward to it! Oh, and there is talk of a Hoop Cricket Club reunion sometime soon - watch this space.

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!

South Green Junior, Billericay

Hooray for Hollywood! These new letters, by the A127 welcoming you to Basildon can be seen from as far away as 30, even 40 feet.

Back in the south east for a few days, so it was ideal to spend some time with my lovely son. I drove up on Friday evening, not leaving Somerset until about 8.30pm which meant I reached the hallowed grounds of Basildon at about 11.30pm. It was a wise choice as the roads were virtually empty and made my journey very easy. I had a lovely weekend with my boy, taking him out for fun and games, and also helping him with his homework on Sunday evening where he showed just how much he has come on at school recently by whizzing through his maths sums homework. Bless him!

Monday found me back at one of my old stamping grounds - Billericay! I lived in Billericay for a year back in 1993, living in a house belonging to an acquaintance of mine from the local pub. The house had been his Mother's but had been standing empty for at least two years since she died, so I moved in with plans to bring the house back up to speed so to speak. When I first moved in I was horrified to find that the owners seemed to have locked the front door on leaving two years ago and had not been back since. There were simply piles of dead insects round all the windows, the freezer was still running and was one huge block of ice with food packets suspended in it like some kind of cryogenics experiment, but worst of all, on one of my first nights at the house I decided to grill myself some bacon. I turned on the oven and switched on the grill, there was immediately a bizarre smell filling the house. I looked under the grill and there, placed carefully across the grill pan were 12 sausage rolls, virtually fossilised and with a light covering of dust over them. GROSS!

The thought of all that hadn't even crossed my mind for many years, but here I was back in old Billericay at the lovely South Green Junior School for my 4th annual visit. It was great to be back and see so many familiar faces. We had a great day with a really excitable bunch of Year 6's. There was much fun and laughter and the morning seemed to just zap along. The only drag factor was my ever burgeoning head cold. It had come along this morning and really had it's claws into my by the afternoon session. I felt like death warmed up, but kept the show going at a good pace. The jousting was of a very high standard and once again the Gentlemen triumphed. What on Earth is going on???? This now makes our year long score:

GENTLEMEN 4 - 2 LADIES

So very different from last year. The ladies have another chance to pull the score back a bit on Thursday when I am Wimbledon Chase School in....er... Wimbledon. This will be my first visit there, so fingers crossed it will be a good one!

An Evening at Dillington House

Dillington House near Ilminster, exactly as it looked this evening when Good King Hal left. Except it was night time. To achieve this effect look at this picture with your eyes closed or turn the lights off.

From one of my many appearances at Barrington Court, a fine upstanding chap by the name of Ben Lankester managed to get my details and had booked me for the show I did this evening. Ben is a consultant orthopaedic surgeon (I think) and had organised a big day meeting at Dillington House near Ilminster for lots of other orthopaedic consultant-type people. This culminated in a lavish dinner this evening with me as the guest speaker. I arrived and was immediately told by a man sitting on a chair in the lobby that they had been expecting me. This all sounded a bit James Bond for me, so I checked under the carpet for any shark tanks, but there weren't any.

I got changed in one of the very plush upstairs cloak rooms in Dillington House and then made my way downstairs. I met Ben in the garden on the terrace - a really nice chap. I met his wife and various of his colleagues, and was soon requested to call the guests in for dinner. We were in one of the smaller downstairs dining rooms in the main house, the roof above us was beautifully decorated with bosses and Tudor roses. The main meal was delicious, starting with a choice of either leek and tarragon soup or smoked gravlax - I went for the soup which was absolutely gorgeous. Next up it was trout or chicken supreme - chicken won for me (not a very fishy King I'm afraid). Finally it was blackberry cheesecake to finish off. Wow, this was good stuff. Surely nothing could spoil it - oh blimey hang on, I've got to do a talk now! I launched into my Henry routine and...it went brilliantly! They were a fabulous audience and really joined in and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the whole thing. When I finished they even kept the applause going till I stood up for a "curtain call" so to speak! Really gratifying! Ben Lankester thanked me profusely and soon I was out of the boiling costume, in my civvies and on my way home. It was a lovely, lovely evening and thoroughly enjoyable. And there was no huge shark tank or bald headed lunatic in a grey suit stroking a white cat while plotting damnation and total world destruction. No, he was appearing at Montacute House this evening.

John Rankin Junior, Newbury, Berkshire

Good King Hal with the Good Food Ireland people, mere nano-seconds before the regrettable "potato famine joke incident". Surgeons worked for 8 hours before they successfully removed the Maris piper in question.

A new school and a new academic year! Woo-hoo! The alarm going off at 5am this morning. Not quite so woo-hoo. However, on a more positive woo-hoo scale, the A303 and the A34 were relatively harmless today and there was the added bonus that Sarah "Caned-Already" Kennedy wasn't on air this morning, her place being filled by Lynn Parsnips.

John Rankin School is based on the south west side of Newbury, which was good as I didn't have to go right into the town to find it. I had been asked to this school by Helen Poore, a teacher I have worked with before at Long Sutton School in Hampshire, Medstead School and now here at John Rankin. It was a lovely school - great kids, about 60 of them, very sparky and excitable, just how I like them! Lots of laughs - some wonderful teachers. It was nice to see Helen again. She doubled up as official photographer for the day with her hugely impressive camera. The morning went swimmingly, even though they have this odd set up at John Rankin where lessons start at 9am and they don't have their morning break until 11am! So I began the day with a two hour session straight off. Quite a welcome back after the summer break!

Lunch was great - a really tasty roast beef, but was somewhat spoiled by the apple I had chosen for my "pudding". It was so sour! When I first bit into it I had to have a closer look as I thought I might have mistakenly picked up a lemon. It sort of made you suck your cheeks in and your eyes water. I took one more excruciating bite and gave it up as a bad job. The afternoon session seemed to whip by and we were soon in the midst of a fine jousting tournament. A lot of the parents showed up to watch, which was nice, and in a rip roaring finale the gentlemen finally ran out worthy winners. Well done lads! For the first time ever, I think, the lads are now in front on our leader board - but of course this is after just the one tournament. So the score says:

GENTLEMEN 1 - 0 LADIES

Next Henry show is on Friday night when I am doing a talk at Dillington House near Ilminster.

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.

Redstart School, Chard

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

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

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

GENTLEMEN 24 - 28 LADIES

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

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

St Bernadette's School, Bristol

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GENTLEMEN 17-24 LADIES

Interesting, very interesting!

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

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...

Grange Junior, Swindon

Anne of Cleeves keeping her fingers crossed that this isn't really "handsome" King Henry, just a bizarre cross between an orangutan and a water bed.

Ah, Swindon! Swindon! Home of the Great Western Railway! Birthplace of Saint Billie of the Pipers! The starting point of Melinda Messenger's awesome career! And we can blame it for Mark Lamarr... But it is also home to XTC, the finest, most underrated, fantastic, creative, original, melodic rock band Britain has produced in 40 years. As you can tell from that rabid, frothing at the mouth sentence I am a bit of a fan. This is a bit like saying Billy Graham is a touch evangelical.

I had last come to visit Grange Junior in Swindon about two years ago. This show had been postponed for a week as the school had to endure an Ofsted inspection the previous date we had arranged. It was a large group - about 90 children, but they were really great. Fantastically excitable, full of enthusiasm, ready to laugh and all of them bright as buttons. I was warmly welcomed by the teachers and also the caretaker who, it turned out, had been to school with Andy Partridge (main man in the aforementioned XTC - just thought you should know). I was also grabbed by another teacher who had seen me about four years ago when I appeared at North Somerset Museum in Weston-super-Mare (you'll probably find my blog about that in the archives!). She said I was very funny and a bit rude. I don't know what she means! I was equally warmly welcomed by the lovely school secretary who could quite easily have a fabulous career as a wench if she wanted to.

After a very pleasant lunch and a sit down it was back for the madness for the afternoon. The stocks were a riot with some of the children getting almost too excited, especially the Mayor of Swindon (he knows who he is!). The jousting was amazing. Both the gents teams in their final were a little...ahem...clumsy? To be honest I thought they were the two most incompetent teams I had ever seen and I reckoned whoever got through to the final against the ladies would be absolutely trounced. Quoits were sent flying, quintaines were knocked over, wrong directions were gone in and various members of each team were nearly run through with loose lances! And yet....come the main final against a really good ladies team - THEY WON! Can you believe it? They stormed to victory! This now makes our score:

GENTLEMEN 10 - 14 LADIES

It's hotting up! Next week I am in Norfolk for a couple of days at Caister and Drayton.

In the evening when I got back I was down at United FM, the prospective new radio station for Crewkerne, recording some jingles and adverts ahead of their "live" launch. Check them out at www.unitedfm.co.uk and see if anything is happening yet!