Sunday, 30 April 2017

"It's Late in the Evening..."


I’ve got into the habit of writing my blog too late in the day recently, which can leave me disappointed with the results.

The process has certainly changed over the years. When I first started it as an exercise to improve my writing ability (with the hope it would be a springboard for stand-up material), it would take up a lot of my time each day. It just so happened I wasn’t working much at that point, so I was able to devote the time to covered topics in more detail, while perhaps agonizing too much over getting the content as tightly composed as possible.

As with anything you stick with, it can veer in and out of being easy and / or fun. Once I’d got a few months into writing every day, there were times when it would loom like a weight over my head if I hadn’t yet posted something. I was particularly strict with being daily for the first year, which was an achievement that teetered on an obsession, and a self-imposed pressure that could sometimes be a little too much.

Now I’m a few years in, it’s easier to build it into my day, without sweating too much over it. That said, I’m still very critical, particularly on those occasions when I feel like I’m laboriously filling a page for the sake of it. Whether I write something I’m proud of or not, it’s always much harder when I’m tired, and more likely to be littered with mishtakes (sic).

One thing’s for certain, keeping it up was worth it. It’s been an essential resource when putting together my shows or my work with Glyn (both live and on our radio show). The stand-up show I’m working on now is a case in point, as big chunks of it started life here almost verbatim. I just wish I didn’t leave it so late to start my posts, as I did tonight, if only to ensure I have material worthy of a new show in 2018 too.

Friday, 28 April 2017

Rushed Diagnosis.

I hope no-one informs whoever owns the rights of seasons five to eight of Diagnosis: Murder that they’re currently available on YouTube as, if they do, I could be scuppered when it comes to watching the latter half of my favourite hospital-based sleuthing series.

(Quincy comes second, due to pathology being pretty grim.)

I’ve written here before of my frustration regarding the airing habits of various channels with the programme. For a long time, Five USA were the culprits for constantly looping back to the first series instead of going past the end of season four; now CBS Action are facing my wrath, for doing the same with just the first two seasons. It’s as if they think no-one’s watching, which is a defeatist stance to take; how else is a highly-strung person like me supposed to relax without my daily dose of Dick Van Dyke? I can’t even buy the DVD Box Set, as it’s (1) stupidly expensive and (2) I’d need to invest in a multi-region DVD player; these things never help you out.

It was on a whim that my wife stumbled across the missing series on YouTube. I was delighted, and consequently have spent the last few evenings catching up on some of the programmes I’ve long missed. I know I’m playing with fire, as this isn’t the first time they’ve been available on YouTube to be deleted soon afterwards, but until that happens, I’m binge-watching as much as I can. I wonder whether if I switched my laptop, mobile and TV on together I could watch three episodes at once; needs must when the Devil drives, as they say. Just don’t go telling the authorizes, as I don’t think I can manage any longer without it; I need to see Barry Van Byke's beautifully chiselled face. 

Thursday, 27 April 2017

Paint Pop.


I'd have liked the guy shouting Rick Astley's 'Please Don't Go' at the top of his voice whilst decorating the flat next door me today to go himself, if given the choice.

It’s not uncommon for people to moan about noisy neighbours, but this was the limit. The guy wasn’t singing, he was yelling, and he wasn’t shy about it either; he didn’t care that he was subjecting anyone within a two-mile radius to unconsenting Astley, or that he sounded atonal and unpleasant; he wanted the listener to know he was begging them to stay.

I hope there's no truth to the Stone Tape theory that some rooms store traumatic events and then replay them when the conditions are right as, if so, a future tenant could be subjected to close-encounter Eighties pop on a wet Spring day. Even Rick’s biggest fan wouldn’t want to hear his songs that loud, even if Astley himself was doing the decorating; to paraphrase one of his other hits, I thought he'd never give up. Hopefully the painter-decorator won’t have a similar comeback, as my eardrums won't survive it.

Petered Out.


My mood brightened considerably today when I read that Peter Lilley is standing down at the next election.

I have a natural dislike for politicians of the Tory persuasion - or politicians at all for the most part - but Lilley's a particularly unpleasant example, even when taking this into account. Just a quick look at his voting record reveals some particularly distasteful allegiances, having consistently voted against Gay rights, against raising welfare benefits and measures to prevent climate change to name just a few. He's a staunch supporter of leaving the EU and for a stricter asylum system that plays right into the hands of the Daily Mail contingent; in fact it’s hard to find anything he's done or the common good.

This was no surprise to me, having crossed paths with him briefly when Glyn and I reluctantly appeared in a sketch with him at a Hitchin Rotary event in 2008. I’ve covered it here before so I won’t go into too much detail, save to say that after helping him score points with the local electorate, he walked off the opposite side of the stage and left the building without saying goodbye or thanks; he’d got what he wanted from the evening and felt no need for basic etiquette or politeness.

The one saving grace from our misjudged collaboration was the sketch was built around The Who's Pictures of Lily; what better soundtrack than a song about masturbation when the man's clearly a wanker? It’s poetic justice, really.

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Webshite.


The Mostly Comedy website is about to have a massive overhaul, and not a moment too soon, I say.

The redesign was done by long-term Doggett & Ephgrave colleague and ex-Mostly doorman James Hingley, who’s done an excellent job of tidying things up while making it more interesting to look at. For a long while, we’ve let it slide (though not as much as the D&E site, which hasn’t been updated for years), so it will be nice to be back in action, making the most of the database of photographs we have since the club’s formation while also making it easier for us to sell more tickets; I’m amazed we’ve consistently sold as well as we have, when our website is often people’s first port-of-call and yet the last place to find the latest information.

The best bit about the website’s reworking is it will enable Glyn and I to update information easily from the comfort of our own homes without much additional effort. Previously, Glyn would have to do it, yet increasingly, he hasn’t had the time, while I tend to update the information everywhere else (WeGotTickets, Ents 24, Facebook and Twitter etc); now, we’ll both have equal access, meaning I can update line-up information at every source, without having to pass it on.

Thankfully, our excellent ticketing service-of-choice WeGotTickets has helped us sell so well over the years, thanks to its excellent cross-referencing and its user-friendliness, but having an up-to-date website will hopefully help us do even better while also doing less work - and who can say fairer than that?

Monday, 24 April 2017

The Man With One Brain.


According to Headspace, I’ve meditated 272 days in a row, which is no mean feat.

I’m proud of myself for sticking with it and, while I was practising most days anyway before downloading the app, its been an invaluable addition to my life, helping me train my mind to healthily approach any challenges I may be faced with from day to day.

I admit I was reticent to opt for a subscription-based service once my free trial had elapsed, despite finding those first few sessions useful. It’s funny how differently you can view paying for something that's slightly out of the norm; I wouldn’t flinch at spending a fiver a month on luxury or superfluous items such as chocolate, alcohol or magazines, yet committing the same amount to something that might benefit my well-being seemed too much; there was a sense of ‘would it be worth it?’ to the whole thing.

I can now state categorically that it was. Headspace has a huge resource of guided meditations tailored to all kind of situations that mean you could spend a whole year without listening to the same file twice. It’s also cheaper than going to classes, and while being guided by a teacher in person will always have the edge, it's certainly an excellent substitute. The exercise to aid sleep is worth the admission-fee alone, having knocked me out too many times to count.

That’s not to say that you have to meditate every day to benefit from it. While it’s gratifying to know I’ve been on a 272-day straight, it’s not a competition; I’m always allowed a day off. It’s good to practise as often as you can though - and, if meditation's something you been considering trying, Headspace is a brilliant place to start; I'm not on commission, by the way.

Sunday, 23 April 2017

Jobsworse.


Spare a thought for the producer who dreamt of working on a multi-platinum album, yet records the page-turning sound for an e-paper instead.

Surely no-one sets out to be responsible for that, yet someone has to do it. It’s like the people who photograph food for menus or zoom in on the winning lottery numbers when they come out of Guinevere; they provide a service of reasonable value that isn't something to aspire to. It must be hard to work on something so utterly mundane.

My ex-flatmate had a couple of jobs when we lived together that served a financial purpose, but were amusing in their dullness; something we both used to joke about. The Top Three were:

3) Packing mushrooms (he's allergic to them).
2) Stacking toilets.
1) Ironing snooker tables.

The top job was by definition the best. It was a door-to-door service, which meant driving from pool hall to pool hall, asking if they needed anything doing. I hope it wasn't commission-only as he can’t have had much uptake - and if he did, it's a thankless task: God knows how you get them on an ironing board anyway.

One thing I will say about the person who recorded the rustling for my local paper: they applied attention to detail to their work, as every few pages sound different, though it’s possible noticing this makes me the worse-off.

Saturday, 22 April 2017

Beautleful.


One thing I like Paul McCartney for is his b-sides and his lesser-known work.

Sadly, a clichéd view of his solo material has formed over the years that does no justice to his huge back catalogue. At best, people tend to rate Wings 1973 album Band on the Run as a near-return to form of his unparalleled Beatles period, but after that, critique tends to fall silent, save the easy - and unreasonable - allusions to twee granny musak made by Lennon during the bitter early Seventies.

In reality, the last twenty years have seen a surprising array of top-quality albums that are regularly described as “his best work since Band on the Run”, whilst forgetting this same comment has been applied to nearly every release since 1997’s Flaming Pie. It’s normally his choice of singles that cloud the water, by not always being reflective of his current output.

While there are many songs I’d site as favourites, one popped in my mind that’s worth a mention: the lovely ‘She is So Beautiful’ from 2005. It was recorded during the sessions that produced the stunning Chaos and Creation in the Backyard album, but didn’t make the final cut, only being included on the Japanese version. It’s pretty with an undertone of sadness, much like me.

Friday, 21 April 2017

Mainly Mostly Me.


I enjoyed tonight’s Mostly Comedy, and had fun doing my work-in-progress set.

Me, after they told me I'd have to do an hour at tonight's Mostly
The turnout for the gig was considerably less compared to our recent run of sold out dates; a point that elicited a negative reaction from just about everyone I spoke to.

“Oh,” went the standard refrain. “You usually have a lot more than that,” as if I didn’t know.

The point is though: that’s fine. You can’t sustain high numbers every time. The fact we do as well as we do consistently is pretty astounding, but that’s not to say that there isn’t room for the odd quieter date, particularly on a night like tonight, where the line-up were trying out new material. What made this evening work as well as it did was the fact that people seemed to know what they were coming to see (as regards the event as a whole) rather than being enticed in by the headliner, without considering it’s a show with a mixed-bill.

Tiff Stevenson onstage, doing her thing.
Me, sweating profusely.
While I’m delighted by how Mostly’s grown over the years, my only slight reservation is the fact the line-ups have become so big that audiences no longer take a chance. When the club started nearly nine years ago, no-one knew anyone on the bill. They were all new acts, who just so happened to be the likes of Josh Widdicombe, James Acaster and Nick Helm. People just came to see comedy and it didn’t matter that they’d never heard of the line-up; it was more of an event. These days, the club has a slightly different fame-led polished dynamic that makes it harder to do something fresh like a preview from a lesser-known act like me.

Preparing Hitchin Mostly

That said, I still felt tonight went well. One thing I learnt a few years back is you should never chastise the people who came for the people who haven’t. Everyone there tonight came with what was about to unfold before them accepted in their minds - and while I’m sure most - if not everyone - had come to see Tiff Stevenson over me, my set still went well; it will just work better in a smaller room like I had in Bath instead of the cavernous space of The Sun Hotel Ballroom. Despite this, I feel happy with where I’m at; it’s a good place to be at this early stage, but I’d better still keep the work up.

Thursday, 20 April 2017

Commute-y Comedy.


I had my first casting in months this morning, which I enjoyed, despite having to get into Central London first thing.

There’s something distinctly dissatisfying about buying a peak-time train ticket, only to have to stand the whole way; what you have to do for a discounted rate: a journey-long headstand? I managed to meditate for a bit whilst on my feet, but it was hardly the most relaxing way to do it; I also dropped half of my tablets on the floor when I pulled out my pillbox; as long as any passing dogs have similar health problems to me, we should be okay.

The casting was the sort I prefer, as there was no dialogue, so I didn’t have to cram lines into my head when it came in yesterday with little notice. I just had to react subtly to a comedic situation (which pretty much sums up my life). It was over in a flash and I was on the train back to Hitchin, seated this time, ready to get on with what I’d planned for the rest of the day.

When I got home, I ran my set for Thursday’s Mostly Comedy, which will be the same as my shows in Bath last weekend. I see no reason in making big changes yet, until I’ve got to grips with what works. There are things I will add and subtract for Edinburgh, but there’s plenty of time for that. At this stage, I don’t want to over-think it. I’m keen to keep the lightness of touch I’ve applied to working on it so far, without getting too serious or stressed about it. If I enjoy what I'm doing, the audience are more likely to enjoy it too, or at least that’s the theory.

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

Hard Pressed.


I’m a little frustrated by the lack of interest in this month’s Mostly Comedy, both in the local press and in general.

Despite the fact the club's gone from strength to strength, there’s a sense that Glyn and I don’t get the credit for what we’ve built, and when we occasionally shine a light on our own work - as I am this week, by doing an extended work-in-progress set at Thursday’s gig - the local papers (whose job it is to run stories of local interest) - don’t cover it at all.

For nearly nine years, I’ve written press releases for every show and sent them to the papers, and as time goes by, our shows have been covered less and less. I know lot of this is no doubt due to cutbacks across the industry, with fewer journalists available to specialise in any given field, but I also know that good content is good content - yet some of the biggest names to play our club (whose coming to Hitchin constitutes a story) have been a secret outside of our mailing list and our Twitter followers (and their followers, when they retweet it) thanks to not being mentioned in the press; then, when it’s the opposite, and I build the press release around the fact a local performer is working up a show to take to Edinburgh, it’s also deemed unworthy of the coverage.

The saddest part of all is this proverbial radio silence has conspired to make this month’s show the lowest seller in two years, presumably due to a mix of a not so high-profile line-up (the last few months we’ve had Ardal O’Hanlon, Rory Bremner and the like) and the fact people don’t know it’s happening. So, in an attempt to rectify this, see below for the press release deemed too uninteresting to print:

 
Press Release – 01.04.17

mostly comedy
a monthly comedy and music club at the sun hotel in hitchin

With the Edinburgh Fringe looming on the horizon, most comedians turn their minds to putting together a new show. Consequently, April’s Hitchin Mostly Comedy will tip its hat to the time of year by hosting two extended work-in-progress sets from circuit comics TIFF STEVENSON and DAVID EPHGRAVE.

TIFF STEVENSON is an actor, writer, stand-up and a familiar TV face, having appeared on BBC2’s ‘Mock the Week’ and ‘Never Mind The Buzzcocks’, BBC3’s ‘Russell Howard’s Good News’ and ‘Alan Davies: As Yet Untitled’ on Dave to name a few. She also featured in Ricky Gervais & Stephen Merchant’s sitcom classic ‘The Office’ and in the West End run of ‘Celebrity Autobiography’ alongside David Tennant, Sally Phillips, Doon Mackichan and more.

Tiff's latest solo show 'Mad Man' was one of the best-reviewed shows on Edinburgh Fringe, receiving ten 4- and 5-star reviews including 5 stars from the Sunday Herald, The Mirror and Funny Women. That same year, The Times picked her as one of their top ten Fringe comics. Her radio credits include ‘Front Row’ (BBC Radio 4), ‘MacCaulay & Co’ (BBC Radio Scotland) and regular turns on BBC Radio 4 Extra’s Comedy Club. This will be her first appearance at Mostly Comedy.

Locally-based actor, writer, musician and comic (and back end of the duo behind Mostly Comedy) DAVID EPHGRAVE will also preview new material from his forthcoming Edinburgh show, following recent work-in-progress dates at the Bath Comedy Festival and before a handful on the Brighton Fringe in May.

Credits with Doggett & Ephgrave include eleven seasons with ‘The Comedy Project’ at the Soho Theatre, numerous shows on the Edinburgh, Brighton, Camden and Leicester Fringe, plus the Time Out-recommended version of Mostly Comedy at London’s Leicester Square Theatre. A notable D&E career highlight was reading an episode of their sitcom pilot ‘Nick & Joe’ in the West End alongside a cast that included Michael Barrymore and Norman Lovett (Holly in ‘Red Dwarf’). They also host ‘Doggett & Ephgrave: In Your Inner Ear’ on SG1 Radio.

David’s solo acting credits include playing Beatles legends John Lennon and Paul McCartney in the UK tour of ‘The Roy Orbison Story’, Buddy Holly in the UK / Ireland tour of ‘Buddy Holly and the Cricketers’ and Richard in the West End production of ‘Dreamboats and Petticoats’. He took his first solo show‘…and Ephgrave’ to the Brighton and Camden Fringe Festivals in 2015, his second, ‘Mostly David Ephgrave’, to London, Brighton, Bath, Leicester and Edinburgh in 2016, and his third, ‘Now Who’s a Comedian?’ to Edinburgh this year. He’s also kept a daily blog for four years at www.mostlydavidephgrave.blogspot.co.uk.

The gig takes place on Thursday 20th April at The Sun Hotel; doors open at 7:30pm with the first act on at 8:00pm. The show will be emceed by “polished, natural comedians” (Camden Fringe Voyeur) DOGGETT & EPHGRAVE. Tickets are £11 and are available in advance at www.mostlycomedy.co.uk. Other acts playing Mostly in the coming months include Mark Watson, Angelos Epithemiou, Richard Herring and Red Dwarf’s Hattie Hayridge.

Date:                Thursday 20th April 2017
Venue:             The Sun Hotel, Sun Street, Hitchin, Hertfordshire, SG5 1AF
Time:               Bar open all day. Doors at 7:30pm. First act on at 8:00pm               
Admission:      £11.00. www.mostlycomedy.co.uk

Monday, 17 April 2017

Getting Dry From the Bath.


It was nice to be able to treat myself to a proper day off today, after the success of this weekend’s shows.

I didn’t expect the reaction to be so positive so soon, or for the running time of the material to be as comfortably long; that’s not to say that there won’t be big changes before it transforms into what I take to Edinburgh, but it’s heartening to already be at such an encouraging point; at the least, I felt allowed to take a bit of a break from it today, after working so intensely on it for the past week.

I’m not really sure what I’ve done with my free time today. This evening was very television led, what with finishing the Mel Brooks’ film Young Frankenstein (which we started watching the day before I went to Bath) and the last episode of Broadchurch. I hadn’t seen the former before, but really enjoyed it; it’s shot beautifully and is full of brilliant comedy performances from every one of the cast. The latter was enjoyable too, even if it almost universally painted men in such an unpleasant light; I truly hope we’re not all bad as the programme suggests.

Now, I should go to bed as I’m struggling to stay awake while I write this; apparently, doing next-to-nothing leaves you very tired. Tomorrow, I’ll knuckle down with my show stuff again; it’s always good to approach these things with fresh eyes and a whole new sense of focus.

Get Out of the Bath.


Tonight saw my last show in Bath, which I’m pleased to report went well, like the first one.

Me, contemplating the meaning of life, pre-show.
As is often the case when you have a long day with a gig at the end of it, it got to the stage where I almost hoped I wouldn’t have to do it. Signs literally seemed to point that way when I arrived at the venue to find I’d been missed off the blackboard outside; it’s disheartening when you’re booked to do a show at 6:00pm, yet the sign outside the pub suggests there’s nothing on until 11:00pm; how many people would see this and turn away?

This negative feeling was compounded when the act before me overran by over ten minutes, which meant I got into the space late and had less time to deal with a sound issue that came up. Thankfully, I managed to fix this, but the stress of the truncated get-in didn’t put me in the best mindset to talk for an hour; I could have done without the agro.

Ultimately, I was glad things went ahead, as it was the reason I was in town in the first place, and the more chances I get to run the material, the better. Again, the audience were lovely and responsive (despite the low numbers, what with BlackboardGate) and there was a real sense of things moving along. I’m already having  more fun with the material than I did with last year’s stuff, which is a great sign. It puts me in a great place for this week’s extended set at Mostly Comedy.

Saturday, 15 April 2017

Bath Brewings.


I did the first of my two Bath Comedy Festival dates today, which I really enjoyed, despite a slightly frenetic lead-up.

Live and in CHALK.

My wife and I drove down this morning (she did the steering and I did the pedals), and while the journey was pleasant, we arrived with only just enough time to park, drop our things off at the hotel and get to the venue. The show before me came down at 4:00pm with mine set to start at 4:30pm, yet we only walked into to the building at 3:45pm-sh. Consequently, I didn’t have much chance to look over my notes before I began, which could have been fraught when most of the material was new.

Thankfully, the get-in was swift and unstressful (largely thanks to the excellent tech staff), which was a relief, as you never know if there’s going to be an issue when you go into a new space, particularly when running AV to an unknown projector and desk.

Despite the rush, I settled pretty quickly once I’d begun, particularly when I realised the audience were on-side. It could have been intimidating for them, as they were sat almost on top of me with little space for to hide, but the sea of smiling faces (well, a very bijou sea) made it clear that they weren’t put off by being so close to my sweaty mug.

Today's show.
What gave the whole thing a kick was the fact most of the material was fresh. It felt great to be doing something different, even if some of it was very, very new. The hour zipped by, and what was promising was the old stuff was minimal. I’m under no illusion that my Edinburgh show is finished, but there’s a sense of potential in the air that’s very encouraging. The trick will be making the most of all my work-in-progress dates, without worrying if some of it fails; it’s all part of the process. But what’s great is, nothing felt like it failed tonight.

The sign as you exit my venue proves everyone's a critic.

Friday, 14 April 2017

Pre-Bath.


I’m pretty much all set for my shows in Bath this weekend.

I did a couple of runs today, to get the general shape of what I’m doing in my head, and it seems to zip along quite nicely. There are points I’ll definitely address in the coming months and other bits that need writing, but it will be nice to at least get some of the ideas out in the open, even in their early state, to start seeing what works. Some of the material I do this weekend may not make it to Edinburgh, but hopefully a fair amount of it should - and it’s encouraging to have the beginnings take shape.

My only concern is whether the tech set-up at the venue will be as I need it. It should be, but there’s always an added element of stress when you’re unable to get into the space until half an hour before the show. The start time for tomorrow is 4:30pm and then 6:00pm on Saturday, which is a pain as it would have been more helpful the other way around, to give more of a window to drive to Bath tomorrow and an earlier get-out on Sunday, but we’ll make it work. There’s no point getting stressed as it will be as it will be, to paraphrase Doris Day (which I’m always bloody doing).

Po(o)sh.


Today, I unwittingly stumbled across the most middle-class response to a lack of toilet roll in a public convenience in Hitchin's Caffè Nero, that somehow managed to be both grim and aspirational in equal measure.

The gents’ there are awkward enough as it is, consisting of just a single cubicle with a small vestibule area that's akin to a airlock with just a sink and barely anywhere to stand. Once you’ve discovered it's engaged, you feel trapped, unable to walk straight out into the coffee shop so soon after walking in, yet also feeling too uncomfortable to stay. You’re too close to the theatre of conflict, so to speak, with no way out; it’s an exercise in social embarrassment.

I walked in with trepidation today, sensing before I was anywhere near that someone was already in there, about to leave me in limbo (I was right). I stood, waiting for too long in that loo lobby, from where I could hear an ominous rustling on the other side of the door, that sounded like someone reading a newspaper. Just as I was about to give in, a guy - who looked like Art Garfunkel - came out.
“There’s no toilet roll in there, should you need it,” he said, waiting too long afterwards, as if he expected a response.
“I’ll be all right,” I replied, awkwardly, forced into a corner.

On closing the cubicle door, I noticed someone had stuffed a load of screwed-up paper down the toilet, as if purposely trying to block it. I was inwardly moaning at their childishness when I realised what had happened: this wasn’t an act of sabotage; this was the previous occupant’s improvised attempt to save face, not having noticed the lack of loo roll until it was too late. Unsavoury though it was, I couldn’t help but spot what they’d been forced to use: I'll never see a Waitrose receipt in the same light. 

Wednesday, 12 April 2017

Eurolder Disney.


I’ve noticed #DisneylandParis25 is trending as a sponsored hashtag on Twitter to mark the park's twenty-fifth anniversary; I was there for its first birthday: I’m older than Steamboat Willie.

I remember three things predominantly about that holiday: (1) it rained a lot, (2) my mum wouldn’t go on any ride except The Adventures of Peter Pan (which was the tamest option there, save a park bench on Main Street), and (3) my dad and I kept going on the Haunted Mansion repeatedly every day because it was great.

People might knock Euro Disney, particularly in its early days when it was a lot more basic, but I loved it. I was so excited to be there, having always wanted to go to Disneyland as a kid. There was no way the bad weather (or the fact it was in France) was going to ruin it for me. It’s testament to how much I’d wanted to go that so much of it is still so vivid in my head; it was my first experience of a theme park and was a pretty good initiation, despite the grey days; there was still enough cartoon magic about for my childlike eyes.

To acknowledge the park’s first birthday, the castle was done up to look like a giant cake. It looked very impressive towering above us as we arrived, even if in actuality, it’s probably not that big; not as big as real castle in any sense, though imagine the size of the baker. You’d also need a big oven, and a massive Paul Hollywood to judge it.