He’s Henry The Eighth, He Is, He Is…

Biddy came to stay with me last weekend and we paid a visit to Hampton Court, which is only 11 minutes away from my house by car unless there’s a rugby match on at Twickenham Stadium, which there was, or you get lost, which we did. Oh well.

The former abode of King Henry VIII was simply splendid; beautiful gardens, glorious architecture and an atmosphere so steeped in history you could cut with a sword. Best of all were the actors dressed up in period finery and left to wander around the site to interact with the public, all them perfectly in character and speaking the lingo of the time with practised ease. (I decided to humour one guy who stared at my cellphone and said, “I have no notion of what you are holding,” telling him it was a portable sundial so I could tell the time. To his credit, he stayed in character and replied, “Oh, how clever!”)

We also met this fellow:

Insert “balls of steel” gag here.

I’ve been very busy all week and should be for the next few days, scribbling features, reviews and advertorials galore. However, at least I’m not having to work till 3am like the poor guys on the magazine I’m working with today – not for nothing do the words ‘deadline’ and ‘hell’ go together so well. It’s sometimes hard to believe how much work goes into getting a magazine to the printers; no wonder mistakes get through sometimes.

Although there’s still no excuse for me writing “Sirius Snape” instead of “Severus Snape” in my Robin Of Sherwood feature in SFX a few weeks ago.



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3 responses to “He’s Henry The Eighth, He Is, He Is…

  1. Lerxst

    Fantasising about Gary Oldman and Alan Rickman at the same time perchance?

  2. jaynenelson

    Well, I know what *I’m* dreaming about tonight…

  3. Lerxst

    Eliza Dushku and Alyson Hannigan please, Mr Morpheus…

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