Henry's Column
2nd September 2010.
You may have noticed that this website went off line for a few days whilst I was in Germany. It was the website platform provider who was at fault. No really useful wifi was available in the places I was frequenting so I was unnaware of the problem. Thanks to a Canadian reader who emailed me and to my mate Bob who was keeping his keen eye on the site the problem was monitored. The IT programmer is languishing in the Tower until further notice.
The website now is back on line and seems quicker in response times, obviously the remaining IT people are hoping not to visit the Tower too.

1st September 2010.
Three days in York and I am ready for a new season, from the stud farm campsite on the ring road to the park and ride number 9 with my bus pass, York is a wonderful experience over and over, I never bore with this city. Always something new, always some different angle to view the old favourites.
This is the Stud Farm were I based the RV.



This visit was not to be based upon the Minster, but on the people working around it where their lives were lived with this central scenery and the city walls with the river Ouse protected them. One very infamous resident was Guy Fawks who was born just a stones throw from the walls of the Minster itself. He would have seen the flying buttresses, the processions and his Catholic beliefs would have been ever so strong with such an influence on his doorstep.
The tradesmen in the cobbled streets supplying all a noble might need, markets and bakeries for the rest of the population. I went looking for rareties to answer some of the more difficult questions in my mind planted there from public enquiries. Such as “How did nobles protect their money?” This has niggled me too and so I wanted to find proof of my belief that they had safes.
Not just a notion of a box hidden under the bed, not embedded in a wall or even a secret chambers, but typical Tudor showing off your wealth at the same time protecting it. My thoughts have always been a treasure chest, in open view in a room but locked in some way and fixed securely, but it would have been showing off in the purest sense.
I had researched where to expect to find such a device of the Tudor period, not hard really, just who would have a lot of money, open in view, and expensive to contain secret locking systems? Wealthy Merchants! York was and still is a wealthy place, merchants had money to spare and so would explore new technologies and countries, they would speculate with high risk capital and if only a low percentage was successful it would have been still a high return.
So, Merchant Adventurers Hall just off Fossgate, bound to be a good starting place. Jackpot. This Tudor style building drew me in with my camera, the bus pass saved me a pound to get in, this building is still working as Merchants Adventurers and even today in 2010 they have a working committee and president. I found more than I could ever have wished for, not just treasure chest intact, but also open showing their mechanisms of locking and fixing to the floor.
These chests could be called Safes, treasure chests, money boxes to keep valuables in, but to me they were a treasure themselves with their hand made levers, springs and key tumblers. The size of the keys indicated they would be hung from the Nobleman’s belt totally in sight, the design of the outside of the chest was ornate so not to be hidden from view and the fixing to the floor was a near permanent system so the room was defined as a working, paying bills and meeting room. See the picture below.


Many thanks to Merchant Adventurer Hall for allowing a camera inside the house.

Now with the major job done I had to go and satisfy my love of anything engineering, Steam Trains at the National Railway Museum, heaven. Here’s a collage of that visit.



Old Blackpool


Next week its back on the Tudor road as the UK schools are back after their 6 week summer break. I have quite a few bookings so am looking forward to visiting Nottinghamshire, Sussex and Hull to schools new to me.

17th August 2010.
Boy was that a great trip, Holland, Germany, Luzemburg, Belgium and then Holland again in 15 days on the road in the RV. lots of stories to come and pictures out of this world. Just keep watching as I sift through the details.
Here's the Kleve German newspaper(s) reports of my visit.




Here's my travel blog in brief

August 2010 Kleve, Germany
It was not expected to be flashing camera’s and TV with reporters swirling around looking for a different edge over their competitor’s, it was thought to be just a simple walk down the street in Kleve, pose a while in the castle and then a stroll back to the Tourist centre, one hour tops. But it was not to be so simple, it was a well organised media event, with three hours of filming and photo-shoots, meeting the public and giving out pictures then culminating in the Anne of Cleve shop with a coffee and cake next door in the cafe. It was fantastic and I will remember it always as the day I made lots of new friends and gave a little of myself to make them smile. My day with my real wife was a great start to my journey around 1500’s Germany. For a great visit on your rushed journey from Rotterdam to the valleys of wine production I implore you to stop over at Kleve, you will be delighted with its charm and the friendly people. Call at Stadt Galerie Anna Von Cleve and then pop next door to the cafe Stadt Cafe Conditorei Wanders both are run by friends, ladies of powerful persuasion and management skills.
www.cafe-wanders.de
Stadt Galerie Anna von Cleve
I will post the shop as soon as their new website is up and running.
Genuine people with history in their blood.



Kleve to Ville Express.
Goodbye Kleve for a while, the road is straight, Dutch-like with open fields and ditches either side but this fairy tale ends soon as a road works sends us kilometres out of our way. Now having reset the satnav from imperial miles and yards into the continental metric system I no longer have to divide all signs by 1.5 to give me a mental vision. Back on the autobahn 57 we kept on passing stopover rest areas and so decided to use one as our future boring tales to the family and any victim we can corner. But, the one we stopped at turned into the dirtiest with the toilet block called “Dong” which was an obvious misspelling or the bottom of the Pee was missing. (See that! Two jokes in one!).
Now with a salad for lunch we sat there resting next to lorries when in came the greatest gesture to the Engineers in our midst, a homemade RV. Not a van with windows fitted with kits, nor a flat-back with a cut up caravan screwed on, this was pure homemade design and I loved it. See the picture. I had to sneak the photo from behind my lavish RV of which I felt ashamed that I actually bought it complete and didn’t build it as me dream as this guy obviously had done. It was covered with brilliant solutions for the man on the road, I did say man, but suddenly the greatest accessory got out of the passenger side door, a beautiful red-headed lady at which I shut the curtain in case my wife was seeing me purring.
The old Toyota Landcruiser was obviously very old, tired until the Engineer got his mitts on it. New extra leafs in the rear semi-elliptic suspension, new yellow Koni shocks in the front, the home-made roof, wheel mount and even toilet cassette door filled my eyes. Then I saw the real meaning of extreme, the massive jack was screwed to the running board and it was obviously powerful enough to tilt the world off its axis. As the couple got back in and started the sweet sounding diesel I noticed a large bone screwed to the cattle guard. Not going down the crude route, the Engineer’s thoughts came into my mind by telepathy, “We eat what we catch”.
Brilliant.



Ville Express. The Town of Liblar.
I had to visit this place enroute to the Mozel Valley. It has a castle with the most extensive of moats and a famous restaurant in the open in the middle of a scrapyard surrounded by old vehicles and household machinery. The greatest item being a full steam train hence the title.







Now just see this! A natural history photographer would have to sit in a hide for days to get these, but it was there as I was eating my packed lunch. Honestly.



The Mozel Valley.
All bikers must visit Cochem one time in their lifetime, it is the capital of born-again-bikers and home to one of the most picturesque castles in the world.

But first, I must draw your attention to the way man has modified the river.

Reflections
By Henry Tudor
The River Mozel in Germany’s Rhineland, vine-land, region has a wonderful thing going for it thanks to man’s ingenuity. Sometimes it does not flow. Yes it is a river not a canal but to ensure that the large canal trade boats and the holiday cruisers can use the river all the time the flow has been altered by the use of locks and levelling systems. This in turn means that at some point the River is filling the deep end after a huge vessel has been shunted through into the shallow end. This time delay for filling gives the river an uncanny stillness with no apparent movement of water in any direction. What would normally be an impossible picture then is attainable, reflections across the river which are perfectly formed and with no ripples to alter their delicate forms. Here are some taken which also contain one of the actual dams and the boat going through the massive lock.



Now here's the pictures of the scenery.









31st July 2010.
On the road again, this time to Kleves in Germany and the birthplace of Henry's 4th wife, Anna von Kleve. I will endeavor to find internet hotspots even though they are on the other side of the road! Lots of stories to come and a new Queen Anna is about to take over from Petra.

26th July 2010.
Not long ago there was a worldwide hullabaloo about the lack of Bee's to pollinate our crops. Maybe the crisis is over this worry as I haven't heard a siren, maybe not. But we have this year so many bee's in our garden's and grassy places that I have to wait whilst the short sighted Bee tries to extract nectar off my golf ball everytime it lands on the way to the green. Not only do we seem to have extra bee's. we also have more pesky flies trying to stop me watching documentaries about Bee's.
Don't get me wrong, I like bee's, they do us no harm and they keep us in crops and honey, I just wish that documentary makers finish their tale better. It's no good telling the world we are going to die thanks to the lack of bee's, then forgetting to tell us that the crisis is over and that the polulation of the bee world has come back even stronger with so much free time on their bee hands that they have taken up golf.
Here's a Bee ditty.
Bees Knees

By Henry Tudor

Hairy legs collect the wealth of flowers pollen passed with stealth
Beeline to hive, return the prize, workers work, keep Queen alive.
Build a place for Queen to swell, hexagons her place to dwell
Babies born and fed Royal jelly all came from one Royal belly.
Collect the sweet but do beware, these Royal bee’s will stop and stare
They will attack to save their stack, they will defend with their stinging end.
Wear cover from head to toe, smoke out the war and safely go
Collect and melt this wondrous treasure, cakes and puddings now a pleasure.
So now defend the garden King, buzzing round to do their thing
They will not hurt so show respect, without them there, flowers neglect.
We should delight in this wondrous Bee, picking pollen with its knee
No plants without this workers flight, damage world decay and blight.
Interpret whatever way you like, Bee’s Knee’s mean pure delight
Small and priceless worth more than gold, buzzing round plants new and old.
From humble shrub to blossomed tree, this worker works for us for free
The best needs help so hear this plea, to keep our wealth, care for the bee.

Noting that this article makes it look like I have too much time on my hands, I must get back to the Henry World and plan my next trip. Yep! It's Kleves time again and I'm off to the German Castle to meet the latest Anne of Cleves. The last one was Petra and she is to become a mother soon so her workmate will don the costume for a new set of photo's in and around the picturesque Castle and Cathedral. It's a hard job but someone has to do it!


18th July 2010.
And finally the garage is finished, well it's not really as the walls have to dry so I can paint the rendering cream, but is a garage and "the bike has left the building."



16th July 2010.
There is a scaled model of Tatton Hall on show in the actual hall. BUT, being the kind who checks details there are also four rows of windows more in the model than the actual hall. Obviously the model was the perfect idea of what to build, but in reality the cost and wall thicknesses then came into play and the real building was reduced to suit the pocket and the ground. The camera also can lie about scale.
Here's Tatton Hall with a bit of clever photography.



Now here's a carpenter with a sense of humour about scale.



Hehe.


14th June 2010.
Bonding
By Henry Tudor
Yesterday was a wonderful day for me, not good weather, not a business thing, but a rejoining of friendship between me and my 17 year old grandson. We have always been friends, not close as same age peer groups, but a two generation-gap pair of mates who play tricks on each other, help each other in times of need and who both love the same people but from a differing perspective. His mother is my daughter, his young brother is also my grandson but they live in Spain and he lives in my home. Now can you remember when you were 17? Trying to be an adult, alone in your bedroom with music and football and the inevitable playstation or in my case, my push-bike, my records of the Beatles, Parker jackets and beetle crusher shoes. Well he’s going through that phase and I seldom see his face emerge from his sanctuary of a bedroom. He has been studying at our local college “Sports Science” and wants to work in the sports industry when he graduates, he spent a lot of time trying to get an end of term job for the 8 weeks before his second year, writing to football stadia and fitness clubs, seldom getting an answer.
The old saying, “It’s not what you know it’s who you know!” is definitely true, but I hate that because many hard working, eligible folk don’t get a look in because of it. Now my grandson is a lonely guy who misses his previous life in Spain and of course his direct family and so relies upon me as a father-like figure to help him sort out his problems. Or so he did until recently. Now with the few returns to his letters we clamber round looking for his vacation job so he can have money for next year’s college term. The new Triumph Bonneville comes into its own now, it can go anywhere cheaply and quickly and off we rode yesterday to Manchester to visit Sport City about 1.5 miles from Piccadilly Station where he would emerge from a daily commute. I was so impressed with the place having never been there before, Manchester City Football Club stadium, Badminton centre and the vellodrome from the European games era, what fantastic regeneration. Boy can we produce the goods.
He emerged from MCFC waving his hands high, my heart was pounding and a tear blurred my vision. Yes, he had got his place for work and he will work with expert staff amongst the cream of Britain’s soccer players.
Now back to reality, it started to rain. Not as shower, nor as drizzle, a complete downpour and we were 38 miles from home and our transport was a sparkling new motorbike. We emerged from the Sport complex beaming, by the time we were on the M61 we were soaked to the skin, water running in our shoes and down our backs, the bike now looking 10 years old and our trembling adding to the manufactured vibration of the engine. He croaked down my ear from the pillion, “Granddad can we eat out on the way back near to the Bolton Wanderer’s stadium?” I could not refuse. KFC gives me indigestion but he loves it so off we go and parked up for the chicken meal, paying with wet money, sitting in wet clothing and watching the bike steam from our table near the window. He was so my old grandson again, joking and telling me about his life at college, his mates in Spain and his plans for the future, we were a team again.
So you see, it was a wonderful day because I re-bonded with my grandson and we became great friends again. And he loves my bike even in the rain.
Returning home we manoeuvred the bike into its temporary home, the lounge, carefully dried it off and polished the smudges and brought the machine back to its former glory. Thanks Triumph you made my day. “Oh! Granddad can you pick me up tomorrow at work and take me to college to hand in a late assignment?” Back to normal, the taxi driver.
Now I would like to get something off my chest about not replying to emails and letters. I have written both letters and sent emails to local historical houses and never get an answer. THAT’S IGNORANT and not a good long term policy for public relations. Now me being old and rich I don’t care what the houses do, it is their business how they conduct their relations with their public, but a young, eager, future customer well that’s just bad management to ignore their enquiries and treat them so rudely. I would sack any employee who treats the public that way and if it was the policy of the house they were following then get off your high horse and look who pays your wages, the public. Astley hall, Turton Tower named and shamed. Now I wouldn’t work in your establishment if you crawled to my house, because I can afford not to.

7th June 2010.
The last time I managed to fit a car in my garage was 30 years ago, in that period the concrete slab construction with asbestos roofing panels became a workshop, a cycle shed and more recently a place to dump our daughters own rubbish from their houses. Fitting in the old Vespa and my beloved golf bag was a trick of magic and when I decided to swap the Vespa for a new Triumph Bonneville I had a careful look round the old building to see how to get the new machine in. Say what you like about old stone houses with Ivy growing up the walls, yes it does look “biscuit tin” picturesque, but there is one natural thing the plant does to walls which is a disaster, it dries out the mortar and the walls fall down. The old concrete block garage had this nostalgic look with a lovely covering of Ivy and therefore the concrete was found to be goosed. Crumbly concrete doth not create a strong dwelling so I decided to level it and rebuild a new brick building after I execute the Ivy down to its roots.
Planning the event to follow the installation of a new kitchen and to be finished before the arrival of the new motorbike brought out the calendar and I proceeded to construct a critical path analysis chart. What could go wrong?
First of all the booked builder moved the dates by a month into the beginning of June. Luckily I was under the impression that the bike would be mid June so this moved the red line on the chart but it did not extend the overall timebase. Still with me?
Now Triumph bring forward the date to last Friday and the old concrete garage is still there, the CPA has took a nose dive and the builder arrived on his new date this morning. This could be summed up in a single word, OOPS.
Now with no garage for two weeks where do I store my new shiny, easy to nick motorbike which I have already found a fond spot in my heart for?
Getting the chart out again I plotted when my family were due to visit Madrid for a holiday without me and low and behold it is tomorrow. Problem solved!
“When the cat’s away the mice will play”, only a bloke could come up with this solution, lateral thinking from a major player. I will fit the RV ramp into the patio doors and put the Triumph in the lounge! Now half the population (men) are secretly nodding whilst the other half (women) are openly tutting and shaking their heads. Look ladies, my wife will be sunning herself in Spain, I will be here working and as long as I can see the Telly and there’s somewhere to put my cup of tea, it is a neat solution. The garage gets finished before she reappears and the bike goes into its new home unscratched, unstolen, and waxed to death whilst I’m watching CSI. The Critical Path Analysis worked up to now, my only worry is the building being finished on time, I have a black devious thought if this happens, the Icelandic volcano sends some more dust into flight paths again and my family have to stay in Spain longer. Not a serious contender but definitely a possibility.
See these pictures. There you see the plan was perfect, I can see the telly over the bike.
Footnote: The garage will never see a car, it’s for the bike and the golf clubs! Hehehe.



31st May 2010.
Last day of the month, half term holiday in British schools and so no Henry jobs for a whole week. Time to sort out RV, garage and get ready for the big day on the 4th June, Triumph-day. No more watching U-Tube Bonnevilles, reading Bonneville blogs and scrutinising the Haynes Bonneville manual. From Friday my Bonneville will be for riding not studying. Reading the glazed stare on some people when they hear about my antics, tells me I'm so glad I broke loose six years ago from the shackles of regular paid employment. I used to think my design free thinking mind was great, but then it became a heavy weight when bosses realised that the notions were good and do-able. But it was alway me that had to do it, as well as the normal workload until the strain broke my camel's back. Eventually my ideas stayed put in my head and I trained my mouth to deny all knowledge thus keeping in the background with the logical world. Lateral and radical ideas are what changes directions, logical ideas are built upon new notions and repeated.
Now I'm 61, not old really especially in the brain where I've let loose the old tendency to change things for new directions, Hence being King Henry VIII as a job, driving about the UK for a living, and now riding my Triumph for my research trips. Radical? Sure is. Fun? Sure is. Do I care about glazed expresions? Sure don't.

Old Man Thinker
By Henry Tudor
Sixty one years of thought, radical and lateral very little logical
Caught in trap of creator to bring the new to the existing slate
Making waves with invention, storms with change, enemies not intention
Cannot switch off brain, cannot retrain must try to contain.

Lifetime of hell, school bell, conformity, timetabled dwell
Follow the trend, live to defend the way not always forward
Create a new path, had the last laugh, disturbed the convention
Not wise to defend, others refuse and depend, stay quiet and boil.

Now free to expand, by my own hand, new ideas so grand
Only few allowed to watch close, it’s them that I chose
Now open in mind, the thoughts that I find, to savour in kind
Keep self to myself, no loss on the shelf, better in health.

Used to hate the day start, now love with my heart
Run and run all day long, a happy heart is so strong
Give all to my life, my kids, their kids and my wife
Only reigns are my own, new seeds now are sown.

The boundary of work, seldom lets out new thought
Dampened by income to pay, to live the next day
But when freedom age is reached, the boundary is breached
Run free in the air, no-one to stare, you don’t care, now play fair.

Sixties are not old, rebirth I was told, true! Now be bold.


25th May 2010.
Busy days, here's last Saturday at Ingestre Hall.
I won’t tell you the lady’s name, as website social networking and privacy do not go hand in hand. But let me tell you, this lady organised one of the best Historical banquets I have ever been to. No requirement was left dangling, all was perfect on the night and she did it all for charity. Well done SP and thank you for inviting our little troupe to Ingestre Hall, in Staffordshire. The pictures are proof of the quality and success of the planned outcome. Here’s the event website www.ingestrehall.co.uk
A new girl has emerged from this gig, my mate Cheryl who plays Katherine Howard brought along her mate to play Lady Rochford. Boy did they do it well. Just see their pictures and judge for yourselves. I hope to include these girls again, pity there’s only one pillion on the new Triumph!





5th May 2010
Yes! I've been told that my new Triumph Bonneville special anniversay edition will be ready to collect on 4th June, Yes!
I could have rode out on a T100 when I entered the showroom in February, it would have also been cheaper than the one I wanted, but I prefered to wait to get the one I actually wanted. Only 120 being available for the UK meant that the Triumph dealer in Blackburn was only going to get one for sale. I meant that the first bod with the deposit got it, and it was me.
Now I start planning trips on the Bonnie to fill the new Triumphant Entry blog section, I have made the RV ready complete with electric winch and folding ramp, I have acquired a mini HD solid state video camera and fitting for the headlight or crash helmet.
Must say I'm chuffed. Mind you most of my mates secretly think I'm mad and heading for hospital, but then I think to myself, act young be young.

No Lines In The Sky
By Henry Tudor.

No lines in the sky
No crowds in the airports
Fruit reducing in the shops
Fruit rotting in the export ports
British stranded in foreign parts
Foreign visitors stranded here in Britain
Ticklish throat, dry cough, itchy eyes
Purple dusk, orange dawn
Grey soft rain, colouring all cars and grass
Airline layoffs, operator losses, supplier downturn
Less pollution in the air, but more on the land
Dark snow in the north, ice flows melting
No-one to blame, nobody in the know
What’s caused all this chaos, an Icelandic Volcano.

9th April 2010.



It has always been a mystery to me how expensive houses are in Silverdale and Arnside on the border between Lancashire and Cumbria. Okay the sea is there and the river has a spring tide bore, then there’s the view of the distant mountains of Cumbria and the box-like outline of nuclear reactors at Heysham. Parking is congested, roads are narrow and always blocked by parked cars, the buildings are generally grey thanks to Cumbrian rules of fitting in with the character of the area. But remember that this beach is the most dangerous in Britain with soft sinking sands, massive tides and deadly pools of seemingly paddling-able sea water. Now add hundreds of green static caravans up into the forest sided hills which adds to the congestion of visitors. So why is this area so expensive, so popular? Well it is close to towns, motorways and quaint. That’s about it, or so I thought. Buy a house here for twice the inland average and expect little for your money, no place to park your car and continuous traffic jams. Walk close to the wall over the rough stony waterfront at low tide and wear willies or the moss topped mud will leave imprints throughout your house, take a scarf or the high winds will take your perm off, look at the trees leaning over after years of constant pushing from gales across Morecambe Bay.
Wait a minute, there is a reason why this place is popular. It is beautiful and self contained. The traffic is a symptom not a cause, the high house prices are because there are few of them and seldom do they come on the market, space is not an issue to the background view of most dwellings. When this place was born the motorcar was still unheard of, so parking was not an issue. Silverdale and Arnside are great examples of past living in the present and the people who can afford to move and live there are escaping the present for a time when space, quality and small was good.

I wish I could afford to live there.

These two villages have become a point of focus for trips out, bikers, hikers, fishermen and strollers all love to visit leaving happier, back to their own worlds. The lucky locals must sigh with relief when their much loved villages become theirs again, no crowds, no parking problems and no traffic jams.
Here are some views of both Silverdale and Arnside on the busy Friday at the end of the Easter period. Visitors trying to wring the most out of their vacation without travelling huge distances. See the yellow Caterham 7 with the umbrella for a parking roof, just exactly what this coastline is all about.



4th April 2010.
Easter Sunday and the whole family invade the Henry household, so a family trip out is a convoy of cars and very costly to the grandfather, that’s me of course. Where to go without a traffic jam is a problem often used to get out of the whole affair in the past, but this year is different. The two year old family members can now speak and they wanted to have a say in where they spend their day. If they have to endure being strapped in a tight fitting child seat, so they decided that they want to visit something spectacular. So after asking each one separately where would they like to go, I was taken aback somewhat to find out they had colluded together and had come up with the same impossible theme. “Want to go and visit Thomas the Tank Engine”. Hmm, exit stage left.
Wait! Thanks to the internet I found there indeed was a real Thomas the Tank Engine touring various private railway lines and Thomas and His Friends were in Skipton near Bolton Abbey. Only 50 miles of “are we there yet” was replaced eventually with two snoring children who woke up to find Thomas sitting in the sidings right in front of them. Granddad had done it yet again.



The return journey was all about Thomas, the carriage we travelled in, the fat controller, Percy, and even Diesel 10. It takes another suffering parent or grand parent to understand these names and their hold on the attention of the young viewer. But I fully recommend visiting this show, mind you at first the £10 for each person felt hard to swallow but it soon felt worth it to see the smiles and the obvious belief in the faces of the young kids. I great day out so Thanks Thomas and your friends.
I’m still humming the theme tune in my head at this moment. Rats.

28th March 2010.
Nearly six years ago after my first ever gig, I was interviewed and photographed by the Northern Newspaper, the Bolton Evening News. This was the first of over 300 articles since that glorious day and King Henry has been in most county's local papers after visiting one or more of their schools. Now I'm back in the first paper, now called The Bolton News and they have retaken the picture and updated the story.


Thanks Bolton News, you helped me in the beginning.

25th March 2010.
I worked in a great school on Tuesday this week, Settle Primary School in the West Riding of Yorkshire. I had forgotten how beautiful this town is, having last been there over 10 years ago, with its valley and the famous railway to Carlisle. I really must try to come again on my Triumph for a great ride.
Anyhow, here is a poem for the school and the children who made the day so successful.

Settle dawn
By Henry Tudor

I have in much way cleared the field
Of traffic noise and cluttered yield.
At six o’clock the mist is low
The grass is grey the sunlight grow.
Red horizon will welcome me
To town in Yorkshire, traffic free.
The railway line to Cumbrian steam
Takes lovers of hills to capture dream.
But wait, the town itself has much to say
Settle the valley, Giggleswick way.
I met these folk from hillside town
Their welcome warm, they smile, no frown.
They made me laugh with natural ease
They became my court, the King to please.
No need a plan, which would insight
These young Tudors gave free, all their might.
The day now done and to wander home
The mist now gone, the traffic now grown,
Goodbye to Settle, goodbye to folk
Goodbye to valley clear of smoke.
Goodbye young Tudors with hearts of gold
A great day out, a memory bold.

www.settle-pri.n-yorks.sch.uk/

How can a 7 year old have such artistic talent?

"It is the policy of this website not to publish children's names."
So thanks to the young artist of Settle Primary School, you know who you are!
HenryR

9th March 2010. A poem in my head.
I can write poetry when in the mood, always need a focal point and the word just appear. But, sometimes a poem is in my head when I wake in the morning, not a specific project but usually based on something I've done in the past. Now it has been 4 months since visiting Acala de Heneres in Spain to research Katherine of Aragon and I thought the section was complete. But then in a dream I realised the old saying of a baby being brought by stork could have originated there. The old palace was built on the border-creating river Heneres to make the new Royal family monarchs of all Spain. The river was the nesting place of the storks and was cleared for building, though the storks returned and built new nesting on the roofline. The Royal family used this fact as being accepted by nature to reassure their people of the bright future ahead. Catalina de Aragan was born under the stork's nesting.
This is the poem.
Storks
By Henry Tudor
Shoo away invaders, back to their place of birth
Bring back the land to common rule
Show the world our strength and worth.

Two nations join, become one whole power
Create a Spain from seeds of hope
Keep watered with love, to flower.

Build our new Palace, place near old River fork
Form Royal Spanish family
Over old nests of River Stork.

Clear place to build, shoo storks away
A town is born with Palace, Church and people
But Storks return and nest again,
Still there they are today.

The River ran down the line of roof and tower’s grand
The nests were built upon the roofs
So many, so large, so far past hand.

Many know the storks defend, their right to live above
To the King and Queen of Spanish main
Became their power of love.

Alcala de Heneres, a Palace on river state
A Princess born in Royal nest
To England’s bride her fate.

The storks delivered our Royal bride, to us she shone alone
One Royal Prince her husband
But soon death took him to stone.

Her bravery gave her the courage to wait, for England to decide
Should she return to nest in Spain
Or obey her parents pride.

The wait was long, but soon it came an end was soon in sight
She fell in love with second King’s son
And married when all was right.

She left her nest on Spanish plains, by land and sea to north
She built a new life for herself
A new family, a new nest of Royal Storks.

3rd March 2010. Out on the Razz.

The last time I sat in the Opera House in Manchester was to watch The Phantom of the Opera and the Chandelier flew right over my head scaring me witless.
So, second row back in the middle of the row is a great place for Phantom, but is very hot due to packed audiences and your neck is painful after the show as you are looking upwards all the time. Now last night I sat in the very same seat at the Opera House to watch Desperado's live show of their tribute tour of the Eagles. Tuesday night in March in Manchester, to see a tribute band will not and did not fill the auditorium. In fact the theatre was only one third full, but what a great show! Boy did the empty seats rattle with the sound from this band of mixed aged rockers. From a 60 year old to a twenty something musician, the Desperado's were brilliant, if only they could get the type of advertising that would have filled the seats the audience were captivated, feet were tapping to the rhythm, heads were nodding in musical approval and vocals were being mouthed by all.
The auditorium was very cold, lack of bodies I suppose or not enough to afford to turn on the heating, we shivered the band shivered and even the ice-cream seller shivered as he tried his best to sell cold snacks.
Hotel California, my favorite ever song, with its wonderful electric statements came perfectly at the end of the first half and the small audience wandered up the stairs to the toilets humming the tune. The toilets were the warmest place in the theatre so a queue formed.
Go see this fabulous group, find their next gig, take my word for it you will not be disappointed, have a meal before you go and enjoy the evening as my wife and I did. Here is the band's website.
www.desperadolive.co.uk
The lead guitarist is the best I have ever seen or heard.

Now the meal beforehand.
We did not pick the restaurant from any recommendation, nor from past experience. We simply picked it from the fact that it is only 5 minutes casual walk from the Opera House. The Olive Press is a small chain of restaurants by the famous Heathcote’s, one being near Preston and the centre of the chain, Heathcote Manor being close to my home. So our booking was expected to be good and expensive. We were the only customer's in the dining room as it was only 5.30pm, interestingly no reduction for theatre goers who give restaurants early business. The service was excellent, a personal waiter with a great sense of presence and cheer came over to us after a regal 5 minute comfort time. The menu seen on the website was given in real format to us and we chose carefully with cost in our minds as this was a treat from our daughters who are usually broke and must have saved up for this evening. We were determined not to spend over their gift limit as this would cheapen their value and spoil the effect. So with a budget of £50 for two people to get a meal, a drink and a coffee in Heathcote’s in Manchester centre, was quite a challenge or so we thought.
Not so, we had plenty of choices with only the dearer steak’s out of the equation, we chose just what we wanted and drank a glass of wine each finishing with a coffee. I never eat a sweet as it spoils the taste buds for me, though we could have afforded one for my wife who by that time was quite full and not in need of sugar. The bill came to £45 and so we left with the waiter smiling from his £5 tip, or my wife’s pudding.
Here is the restaurant website.
www.heathcotes.co.uk

In our view the restaurant was excellent for service, food and atmosphere, it catered well for value and offered a spread of food which should satisfy most pockets. A pre-theatre offer would fill this restaurant early and it should become a real starter for a night out with culture in mind, or Rock and Roll.


2nd March 2010.
Oh come on! The old quip about English weather came true yesterday.
1st March 2010, 06.15am I set off for St. Anne’s on Sea a mere 28 miles away, it was foggy and cold with ice patches from an overnight frost. After setting up the Tudor workshop in the school the sun had come out to give us a lovely spring day, then by 11.30am it was raining. Sleet followed by 12.15pm and I actually walked through a blizzard of snow to the infant school next door. Walking back to the Junior school it was a rain storm again. Now at the end of their day I met their parents in the playground with a glaring sunshine and overheated in the costume during a photo-shoot. Driving home in the rain at 17.00pm I encountered the fog again!
We in the North of England had a whole year’s weather in one day.

We do not have weather, we have a climate!


24th February 2010.
Am in the middle of writing a new Pantomime for the next Panto season.
"Kinderella" based upon the hilarious goings on with the choosing of Henry's 4th wife.


Any theatre group out there interested? Please email me directly
HenryTudor@Blueyonder.co.uk
Here is a synopsis file.
Click here to download this file

11th February 2010.
Walsall and Bromsgove in the Midlands have been my focus early this week with two totally different but lovely schools. Little Bloxwich near Walsall produced a small primary school full of energetic people who made the workshop a treat to deliver. Ah ! But there is always a pea under the mattress, the satnav took me on a wondrous trip back to the M6, instead of the obvious way which the road signs were pointing, I decided to follow the instructions of the Lady in the box on the dashboard. Wrong, this took me 5 miles further North to the M54 then down the motorway to a solid traffic jam on the M6 south. Trying to get to the services on the M5 to spend the night before moving on to Bromsgrove took me over an hour to travel to gap of 23 miles. The services were cold and deserted, not much in the way of a good warm hot meal I ended up trying to enjoy a burger which was FRANKLY poor fodder. (A clue to the name of the services is here somewhere.
Next day, next school. A large well booked up private school which boasts a great prep school, the houses nearby look like they are occupied by the people who moved there for the school educational prospect of their children, well endowed. It is a great school, but then so was the school the day before and I must say despite what the press say or government opposition pundits, our schools are delivering the goods. Dedicated staff, interested parents and enthusiastic children all make our schools what they are, no matter who pays.
Environmental considerations however to make a difference, high crime areas, noisy backgrounds, fast furious living will change the nature of the system, may I say negatively. A calm environment, pace to give time to think, place to have that peace, will effect it positively.
Just my view after 620 schools in nearly 6 years.
So these two schools fro different sectors were both wonderful, thanks to the common factors of calm, collected, planned and delivered, enthusiasm rewarded and most of all teamwork.

This is the trouble with being a retired teacher, cannot stop mentally interfering.


4th February 2010.
I found an oasis of learning this early this week on the outskirts of London. Right next to Heathrow Airport, the M25 and the beginning of the M40 where traffic is measured by density and normal streets are 2/3 lanes per side. The background buzz of aircraft every 30 seconds, the sound of diesels passing and emergency service sirens on a frequent time-frame sets the scene. But we are now talking about a Village type school behind the railings, staffed by a multi-national company of dedicated teachers with an eager audience of children all buzzing like their surroundings.
It was most refreshing to see such harmony. These 120 children who became my court for two days were outstanding in their enthusiasm, they never gave up with any difficulties and produced some of the best work I have ever seen in the 600 school’s I have visited over the past 5 years.
I was actually sad to finish the booking.

One girl actually approached me with this statement.
“Henry, I went with my parents to Hampton Court last November and saw another King Henry VIII.”

At this stage I was waiting for an “are you a fake?” type response.
But then she said “Why do you allow actors to impersonate you?”

Quick as a flash I answered “I have to leave someone behind for the tourists when I visit schools.”

She slowly nodded and walked away, the teacher next to me was bursting to laugh.

The Oasis
By Henry Tudor

Frequent aircraft flying overhead
Landing on their tarmac bed.
Articulated diesels rumbling past
Commuters rushing, don’t be last.

Vibrating streets newcomers feel
Residents accept this, this as real.
City life is furious and fast
Live this way your mind is cast.

This place of peace where life is safe
Where seldom hurt and strife replace.
Where teach and taught go hand in hand
An Oasis in a busy land.

A school is not mere bricks and glass
Children and staff are not mere class.
They work together to find a way
To live, to work, to love to play.

The people make this place so true
An Oasis, the future new.
Here in London’s heart of gold
A school sits there, my story told.



27th January 2010.
Am in the middle of a tour of Somerset, Hampshire, Warwickshire and Lancashire this week. 600 miles and many hours behind the wheel of quite a dirty RV thanks to the weather. Many hours of driving cause swelling of feet and tight shoes which can be very uncomfortable. Now my solution is to wear the King Henry VIII shoes I had made in France last year. Clog-looking leather shoes with hand carved royal patterning really does not suit wearing modern weather proof tops alongside. So when you leave the vehicle to go to the motorway services it is a good idea to change into modern shoes and blend into the background. Ah! This I forgot. So marching, King-style into the Gents in my clattering clogs attracted the attention of a group of Polish lorry drivers who thought I was one of their yocal (a pun) countrymen and began talking to me rapidly about my clogs.
Explaining that being a lazy Englishman, I could not speak another language, they were satisfied to go away believing that people up north still wear clogs, sorry folks! I worked with some fabulous classes this week so far and am looking forward to Warwick and Wigan later on.

23rd January 2010.
Okay. I know I said I would never part with the trusty Vespa, I know I had a special paintwork done to it with the Union Jack on each side panel, I know I keep on saying I love that machine it’s part of my life.
Things happen.
I’ve ordered a brand new Triumph Bonneville 60, from the factory because they are producing a very special model, only 120 to be made for the whole of the UK, a classic before it’s made!
I think I needed a boost of energy in the form of a new project and so the Vespa is up for grabs.
I know some of my mates will think I’ve flipped and will be destined to become a donor in the medical world, but they are wrong.
In order to see life from a new perspective maybe you do have to flip it over and the new bike is for touring and I will never take the machine over speed limits with about 60 mph being my fear limit.
April 2010 the machine is to be delivered, brass plague numbered and certificated as a genuine limited edition model. Grey and Blue livery with piped leather and chromed engine with wire wheels, I cannot wait.


Thanks to Triumph Motorcycles for the picutre.

Anybody out there want to buy the King’s Vespa PX200 with Union Jack panels apply within.


19th January 2010.
Was worried last week about the weather up in Durham, two schools and 120 miles away, the forecast was bleak and the thought of being stuck in the RV was cleary in my mind.
I drove up overnight with no problems at all, not a flake of snow, found Durham services for a two hour rest then set off at 06.30am for a school in Peterlee. Now the satnav began to falter, the signal dissapeared for a while, the roads on the screen dissapeared for a while, so I followed the obvious bus route for the town. This reasoning was good, bus routes are salted. BUT, I got stuck on an icing hill BEHIND a stuck bus. Now with two articulated lorries also stuck behind me we all had to slide backwards for a mile before we could turn round.
So here's my timing for the trip
Home to Durham 123 miles in 2 hours 30 minutes
Durham to Peterlee 11 miles in 1 hours 30 minutes. AAHG!

Back down to Taunton, Somerset and Southampton next week hope the weather stays mild.

6th January 2010
Big question, do I venture out with a 3.5 tonne RV into snow for a 100 trip? OR not?
I have only ever missed one school workshop thanks to a bout of flu last year. The gig was re-organised and thanks to a sympathetic teacher, went down successfully. But, it dented my own pride and so I vowed never to miss a venue whatever the circumstances. You may think this a naive outlook from my point of view, but consider the children who have studied Tudors, made their classroom into Tudor experiences and researched questions for the visit. How could I ever let them down, well I cannot. And I will not. Only if the school closes for safety, or if the police close the motorways, or I get stuck in a frozen queue. These are the only three reasons to stop me coming.
Now the thought of being stuck in a frozen queue enters my mind, he he. Just think about it, I am stuck in a centrally heated, food stocked, luxury mobile hotel with internet and tv. Maybe I will have stranded car drivers queuing up for warmth at the RV door, they will be welcomed in of course, but I’m having the double bed at the rear.


5th January 2010.
Happy New year!
How many out there secretly wish they would be snowed in, unable to go to work and must stay in front of the fire and drink hot tea whilst watching a movie? Using the snow as an excuse to lengthen the weekend. Well I’m snowed in and I hate it, the RV is loaded, the stock room full, the calendar ready to explore and here I am watching the RV get fatter with snow. The school’s are closed, the roads are closed, the airports are closed, the paths too slippery to walk on and so this is what real isolation feels like.
Because I work away a lot from the family home, the RV has become my second home, I feel very “at ease” when staying in it. For it to be stranded on my drive is the worse feeling ever. Gone is the potential freedom of the road, travel anywhere at any time now impossible. I’m gutted, I’ve lost my little world and my Tardis is grounded.

Anyhow, goodbye 2009, hello 2010. Let us all hope this new year brings new prosperity to our country without greedy managers.

Assuming the snow melts and I can get out of here, January looks impressive with many miles to travel. Birmingham, Durham, Peterlee, Blackburn, Doncaster, Taunton and Southampton as well as half a dozen local gigs. Looks busy, just how I like it.

Now I am planning one of my research excursions into the unknown territory of Margaret Beaufort. Many writers have documented her life as the puppeteer in the Tudor clan, but not much can be found about how she survived a childhood only to be married off at the age of 8yrs. Survive three husbands and manipulate the two rose warring factions into a successful takeover of the English throne. This woman was scary and needs explaining. So whilst the snow keeps me in I will dive into books and websites, then find a route for a trip to get the feel and the pictures of her story.




17th December 2009.
Hi! Leigh Central Primary School. Here's a Christmas picture from Madrid.


Christmas in Madrid

I have been working in Alcala de Henares which as you know was the birthplace of Queen Katherine of Aragon. Go see the new section added today, great pictures.


Statue of Katherine of Aragon

Now don't go thinking I was having a great time, it was work, honest!
Very sunny but very cold, 2,000 feet above sea level, a plateau with a river running through the city edges down to Madrid about 20 miles away. There were white storks nesting on the roof of the Palace.



16th December 2009.
I have been trying to locate Quince Jelly now for 5 years with no success. So last Sunday when I was strolling around the square in Katherine in Aragon’s birthplace, Alcala de Heneres and finding a shop which sells packs of the jelly I was nearly overcome with joy. So I bought two.
Being a straight person who never breaks the law, I never considered hiding the two packs in my suitcase for the trial of passing security at Madrid Airport. I put the two pack of Quince Jelly in a clear plastic bag and carried it innocently to the X-ray tunnel and put it in a plastic tray. WRONG! The X-ray machine thought the Jam was an explosive device and rejected it, my case was searched and they even made me takeoff my belt wit the metal buckle. After the jam was confiscated and the guard waved his finger at me like I had forgot my homework he let me through to departures.
I still haven’t got any Quince Jelly but I now know it exists, it looks like jam but can cause X-rays to burp.
Just got back to England, Spain was freezing and I hear it is now snowing in Madrid. I am now writing the new section about Katherine of Aragon, keep watching.


10th December 2009.
My mate and I explored the site of Bosworth Battlefield last weekend near Nuneaton, was expecting just a field but amazed at the fabulous visitors centre there. We received a warm welcome from the staff and many pictures were taken with Henry in their dispay areas. Lots of visitors enjoyed the exhibition and restaurant which I must say served up the best Sunday lunches I've had recently. Go see the new Bosworth section.
Am setting off for Spain in 2 hours for a research job in Aragon (someone has to do it!) Will report back when I return on 16th December.

8th November 2009.
Life is so much relaxed without Samlesbury Hall tying me down at weekends and filling up my week with poor return. Now I can write, research and give a better service to my visit clients of which I have over 200 to look after. Now I am plannig yet another visit to Aragon in the Mid Spanish Plains. Katherine of Aragon is such a deep study area my last visit only skimmed the surface. Her edcation up to leaving for England, her contacts whilst she was in England is much in my focus and where she was brought up as the Princess will dominate my research. So December 10th to 15th will bring me back to Spain, staying near Madrid and motoring to interesting locations in a Toyota Prius which is a very good car despite what Clarkson may say. Just remember he bought a car that the door would not let you inside it unless you parked it far away from another car!
Next on the list of research early next year will be off to Kendal and Mistress Parr's upbringing.

19th October 2009.
Last Monday evening I spent an hour talking to a large WI in Chester. What a great audience and me being the only bloke. I set off in the middle of the rush hour and my satnav tried to save me a couple of yards by taking me right through Warrington town centre and the traffic chaos. Managing to ignore her (satnav) demands, I found the M56 again and headed for Chester in a more logical manner. I never pass that way in the dark normally and when I passed the refinery at Runcorn I was quite shocked by its appearance. Lights and fires, looked strangely mindblowing and just as Hell would appear if you walked through the wrong gate. Here's a ditty penned in my head on the way home, again ignoring The-SHE-direction,controller-in-the-box.

Chester
By Henry Tudor

Against the stream of traffic seen
I endure a tiring scene.
To reach the place with friendly face
I will need a large parking space.
I pass the Weir of town with cheer
And soon can see the river clear.
But the devil arrived before I spied
And built his hell on river side.
Black oil comes in and fuel goes out
Fire and fumes leave their spout.
We need this place, no better space
To keep our lives, our modern face.
Have now passed this glowing cast, at last
Must now find the stage, and fast.
People waiting to see my King
To be late now, not done thing.
Ninety ladies clamber in to see old Henry’s hairy chin
He woos them with stories within a spin.
About his life and many a wife, Tudor times, Tudor strife
Cutting it down with verbal knife.
They listen and tut, they consider the plot
They laugh and giggle, with Henry’s spot.
But underneath they care not, the Times
They consider his life full of crimes.
The end comes fast, with one-man cast
Stand up Henry done at last.
Questions, questions come fast and furious
All of them now really curious.
Why did you kill, why were you cruel
500 years back, why the fool.
Whom did you care, which woman did share
Your heartfelt stare?
I left it there!



Took cheque over to Derian House, thanks ladies.

11th October 2009.
Even though I now get Sundays off, mt family has claimed me as taxi driver.
The rest of the week is even more full than ever, little did we know how much theold King is in demand especially with the new changes in the school curriculum for historical studies. More visits and much more travelling, sounds ok to me.

Note to power crazy managers: "Sometimes the quiet grazing animal sees the reflection in the cowards scope and ducks before the thrill rises".

30th September 2009.
25th September 2009.
I'm back again. Burbage village is not one that rolls off the tip of the tongue of many a history lover, yet this quiet farming village in Wiltshire was the residence of the Seymours. They still have "Wolfhall manor" though it is not the one from Henry's days. There is "Wolfhall Farm" but again just a name. What they do have is the scenery, where Henry courted Jane and this is why I went there. I found the Kings's road where they wandered, the place where the old barn once stood and became at one with the love story. Then on to the Church where John Seymour is interned, there I found the old Preaching post which Henry must have stood by at some time, I saw John Seymours tomb, their family stained glass windows and the plaque with the family crest. I also met an intriguing lady, coming out of the church. What a source of information! This lady knew where everything Seymour was and so I went in search of the well, the path in the woods the barn. Wow! Now back to work, must write the story of Jane Seymour now that I understand their personal feelings and feel their surroundings. A new section will be added as soon as this is complete with some great pictures, never seen before.
Keep an eye for this section.

King Henry VIII gets on his bike.

We all have our own ambitions which are nagging in the background of our daily grind to get by, satisfying them becomes much more focussed as you get older and you can see the end of the possibility line approaching. I have always had a burning ambition to be a published writer of poetry and plays which are performed to a paying audience, so at the age of sixty it is certainly close to the shelf life of this particular ambition.
I left teaching to become a self employed actor, portraying King Henry VIII as best as I could and buying clothes of such a quality they matched my accurate Henry-double face. Five years later I work full time as this actor but the ambition is still there. I have written over 250 poems, nobody has read them, nobody has had the chance to comment on them. I have written 5 plays, nobody has seen them and nobody has reviewed them. Now I viewed this as a dead-end and decided to break free and produce the work myself, this of course meant reducing my workload and discarding the influence of any distracting element.
The major distraction was a customer who had given me lots of work but at a very small price, kept low because they promised to help me achieve the ambitions in their Hall. It never happened, after two years of hoping they finally let me produce a play for one session. The play was called “No Conscience” and it was a complete sell out with a standing ovation at the end. Now I was happy again, the Hall offered to let me have a play every month and I thought I was set up, they even took a book of poems to publish in house and sell at the door.
One month later, the book had not been read by their manager, they had forgot to publicise the play and no audience turned up. We had made special scenery, bought a dress for one of the wives, bought small trinkets and props for the children in the audience. Would you be upset? Would you be fuming? Me too.
With an empty audience and nobody to play to, we took down the scenery, the props and the clothing was boxed, we left the Hall and will not return. Now I am back two years in the race to succeed in achieving my ambitions and the end is nearer than it should have been. Not an easy decision to make but I am a strong personality and I don’t ever give up, so I will begin again. This time I will not have a customer with too many bookings who believes they own me, I will not rely on another life changing promise and will publish myself, I will hire my own theatre space and sell my own tickets. Never again will I be walked on, now the carpet is under my feet and it feels much more comfortable.
If you want to book King Henry VIII for a function, a play, a school visit, a photographic session, a video, a book cover or a talk to a historical group then contact him directly on HenryTudor@Blueyonder.co.uk or by phone on 01257270913 or by visiting his website www.HenryTudor.co.uk
I will succeed.
Henry Tudor
The Henry Tudor Drama Company

24th September 2009.
Have been away again, three days in Cheshire with a new school and great Children.
14th September 2009.
I know I said recently that I would never sell my beloved blue Vespa, but that was before I saw the new Piaggio MP3 Hybrid. You go and see it.
www.uk.piaggio.com/en_UK/news/piaggio_mp3_hybrid.aspx
A three wheeled machine with parallelogram type front wheels, looks great. Now add 141 mpg and electric/petrol power giving 0 to 60 in 5 seconds and this is a great scooter worthy of notice amongst all the plastic buzzers out there.
I have enquired about the new trike which in my nature is a major step towards jumping into the deep end. The other alternative is to keep the blue Vespa and have both of them, mmmmm. This would of course require major brainwashing for my wife who already looks on the Vespa as a waste of time and garage space.
Maybe hypnotism.



Now where can I get the flag painted on it?

11th September 2009.
I mourn for the world privately.

10th September 2009.
Noel has sent in the latest chapter for the making of my new costume. go see the chapter.
Am plannning a trip to Wolfhall in Wiltshire to view, and get the feel of where Jane Seymour came from. 28th September is the only available date so will report back in early October with pictures etc.
Boy did I get a great review from the Army, the gig in Edinburgh last weekend was such a success thanks to the Chef, the Musicians and the stilt walkers, and of course the MC King Henry VIII.
Back on the road on Friday next, Birmingham.

8th September 2009
Whilst in Edinburgh for a great gig with the Army I took the opportunity to scooter over to Hollyrood House Palace and investigate the murders of Rizzio and Darnley. Story to follow.
Here's a collage of the visit.