WEEK 6
MALVERN
(This is Paul Bouche (CSM) paragliding...honest)
That's right. It can only mean one thing. In the words of Eminem, "Guess who's back, back again . . ." The lyrics then state Shady is back. I am not Slim Shady. If I was Slim Shady I'm not sure I would be in Eastbourne writing this blog.
That's right rat fans. It is I, Charlie. (Not Roland Rat, which may have been insinuated with the rat fans comment.) SO! Just to confirm, I'm not Slim Shady and I'm not Roland Rat.
It's me - Charlie. Your resident blogger.
(Me. In a chair. In Malvern)
"Don't tell him or I will spank you. I spank you like a bad bad donkey ok."
Yes! Two full paragraphs and not a mention of our whereabouts or show details. It must mean one thing, Mr Whatley's accurate and wonderfully descriptive Blog/Diary entries are over and it's time to get back to The Ramblings Of A Madman. LET'S GO!
Zac has just pointed out to me that I could also have mentioned Pepe Le Peux. Another wonderful and fully appreciated comment from our resident marginally entertaining Bear like man. I sit writing this and as I glance upwards, I see our hairy friend in the mirror, removing his trousers and laughing inanely with a gruff smokers gravel to his tone. I ask him politely to leave my bedroom. I'm not sure this is part of the warm welcome back that I was expecting. It is unnerving and a bit scary. However, I am still trying to get him the offer of Dame somewhere, anywhere, just preferably several hundred miles away from me.
(Taking in Hayley's great set for Private Ear.)
So..........................MALVERN.
Well. Where do I begin? Malvern is famous for its hills and its spring water. A wonderful pairing which I think sums up this beautiful part of our fair isle. It is simple, stunning. A pure wonder to see. The hills roll for miles, sometimes touching the clouds. Watching over Malvern night and day. You arrive at the picturesque train station of Great Malvern. It is something straight out of The Railway Children. One expects a station master to come out in full garb and blow his old silver whistle as a steam train rolls out of the platform, people waving goodbye to family and friends by waving handkerchiefs out of little windows a la Brief Encounters. This doesn't happen and it is just a Great Western train with no buffet cart, however that is the only thing to break the illusion. As a matter of irrelevant fact for you, when I was here a few months ago, I saw the first butterfly of the year. Little things one remembers forever. It is a climb up a small inclined hill to the centre of the town and the theatre. However, for a smoker, a small incline is the worst possible enemy. The place is not great for people whose lungs are struggling!
(Siobhan taking a picture of the lovely Malvern Hills)
Our audiences were lovely and the autograph hunters were out in force!! The show is awesome, with a fantastic pace and everybody really relishing in their characters.
This week Esther and I stayed in a turret. Yes you heard. A turret! We were a few minutes from the theatre, you turn the corner and suddenly these amazing houses appear. Some built into the hills, some overlooking miles of sweeping green landscape. We stopped and admired them and then, bang, there was our castle! I have stayed here before and was overjoyed to hear Esther had booked the same place. It quite literally was a castle! This huge imposing building which looks like something from English country novels where Lords and Ladies live! A massive oak door into the building, and within, gothic esque windows and huge oak beams. One thinks the only thing missing from this place is a moat and a drawbridge.
During the week I think everyone managed to climb the glorious Malvern Hills. Rupert took his bicycle. Brave. He managed to do a figure of eight around them. Esther, Zach and I decided to take them on during our Friday off.
(Esther and Zac prospecting...at the Gold Mine)
As we climbed further the sun shone more. We stood watching paragliders taking off and soaring around above us. Part of an elite club, a selection of people who have experienced what it is to fly. Men and Women flying! FLYING! What an experience it must be.
We climbed onwards and upwards, looking forward to reaching the peak of the hill with an air of success and achievement. When we did, the realisation dawned on us that there was a bigger hill in front of us.It stood, tall and imposing, like a chair for a giant. We set off again, determination within us. There were paths but, Zac bellowed, "DO AS THE ROMANS DID. WE GO STRAIGHT. STRAIGHT." We followed. He is perfect for a period drama, a bearded King shouting to troops, making inspiring speeches overlooking countryside of pure beauty. Or possibly a mythological God. Alas though, I don't think there were Gods of telling the same bad joke repeatedly. Also I believe the big hairy king god market has been cornered by someone called Brian Blessed. MAKE ZAC A DAME. SOMEONE PLEASE. IT'S A CALLING FOR HIM!
(The Worcestershire Beacon, reached only after much pain and agony)
Being close to the sky is a really cool feeling. It sounds bizarre but, the sensation and feeling of being close to clouds and the unknown above you is awesome.
That's my view and I'm sticking with it.
(The Team back to together in the pub (Wetherspoons) in Malvern)
Thank you for reading.
Ciao
Oh. And this happened . . . . . . . . . .
I give up.
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