A Christmas Walk – what a pantomime!

The Cast                     Click here for photos    or here for video

The Panto

4 days after Christmas day the company assembled at 8.30 in the morning for this annual festive event.  This year’s gathering was entitled ‘The Quest for the Ring’ and was staged in Stafford, attracting some new local talent to the troupe.  The 3 ugly sisters – Nige, Jacko and Keithee – had arrived at Stafford station on the early train and were supping pre-performance drinks in the buffet lounge to steady their stage nerves.

Then, lo and behold, enter stage left, several travelling artistes(!) on the train from Stoke.  Unfortunately that seasoned performer, Spikelet, and the novice Dan tahoohigh had fallen foul of some dreaded spell which prevented them making an appearance.  (DCeen and McCeen had almost fallen foul of a similar spell when the 6 seater golden carriage from the Westbury failed to materialise until a separate stand-in was conjured up by Yupmeister.)  There were plenty of understudies to fill the shoes of those missing and eventually 27 cast and crew gathered from lands near and far for Scene 1.

Our able Director, Thingy Nichol, supported by stage manager, Sparklett, took charge and we set off (fortunately in the same direction) towards the giant’s castle, from where we were informed we would get a first glimpse of the elusive ‘ring’.

Crossing the golf course, the castle ruins were clearly visible ahead in the light drizzle, and so we stoically ventured on to shouts of ‘four’ (or was it ‘for’ward?).  As we reached the castle grounds the deep rumblings of ‘fee-fi-fo-fum….’ could be heard coming from the direction of the car park.  However it turned out to be the mutterings of Big Al Moore and his 2 young apprentices – Dan and Jon who willingly joined our merry band.

Thingy marched us up to the top of the hill and (after the usual cast photos for the publicity flyers) marched us down again.  We were expecting to meet up with Dennis, Chris, Keith and Iain (members of the renowned RBBC Boyz) at this point but couldn’t see them anywhere until members of the cast shouted ‘behind you’ several times.  We eventually spotted them, and indeed, they were behind us!

Hugh ‘again’ (another RBBC Boy), playing only a walk-on part in this year’s production, but having performed well, made a hasty exit from the stage along with his mutt, and disappeared through the dark woods towards his nearby hovel in Castlefields.

Meanwhile the remaining merry band (now 33 in number – oh yes it was) caught first sight through the mist of the ‘ring’ – Bury Ring to be precise, the site of an Iron Age fort on raised ground about a mile away to the west.  However our first challenge was to seek out breakfast at the nearby hamlet of Derrington.  So having crossed under the motorway, circumnavigated the Millennium Wood and wandered along a stretch of the old Stafford to Newport railway line, we arrived promptly at 9.45am at the Red Lion public house where we were greeted by Malcolm, the landlord.  He did us proud with individually wrapped hot bacon and sausage sandwiches washed down with bucket loads of excellent tea and coffee.  However, rumours spread quickly that there would not be any real ale available at lunchtime.  He’s having us on, oh no he’s not! oh yes he is?

Most suitably refreshed, but with the prospect of no real ale when we later return festering in our heads, we once again set off westwards along the former railway line, now a footpath and cycleway, with the ‘ring’ getting closer.  Mr Tapooooohigh was having problems with the wind but blamed it on the stilton he forced down on boxing day which was ‘off’ apparently.  The sun started peeking out from behind the clouds – oh yes it did – and indeed continued to do so for the rest of the performance.  Act 2 saw an array of cameo performances from both seasoned veterans and newcomers alike.  The props added to the entertainment with a fair share of rickety and slippery stiles to contend with, as well as a decent topping of mud and fresh cow crap to keep us on our toes (or in the case of young Jon Moore, on his backside).  At one stage the cast grouped and waited in anticipation of a straggler slipping and sliding into an adjacent pond but no-one fell for it. Graham Awkward however had other ideas and head butted a tree instead, much to the delight and cries of laughter from the audience. A standing ovation lasted for hours; well a couple of seconds at least.  As we continued and traversed muddy fields, Nige (noel) grew 2 foot, but then so did everyone else, we narrowly avoided a surprise attack by 3 french hens and a partridge flying out of a pear tree.

But we are professionals and we soldiered on skirting the village of Ranton and eventually crossing the main runway of Derrington Aerodrome, before landing with a bump in Seighford village itself, finding ourselves strangely enough at the door of the Hollybush pub.  At last we had found the goose that pulled the golden pints! – Batemans XXXB to be precise and we stocked up on it.  Dasher had his customary pint with a dash and it was noticed that he couldn’t finish his second pint.  Marston’s Pedigree was an able companion to the Batemans and the cast replenished their energy during this welcome interval.  The two Luffs (or is that ‘loveys’) – Dave and son Stevie (two more RBBC Boyz) called it a day and were whisked off by chariot having performed well for their first outing. 

Act 3 started as planned!  On leaving Seighford enter stage right a cavalcade of ancient tractors – 90 odd in all.  Now it should be pointed out that this had been a logistical nightmare for the Director and his assistant to stage as part of the show, but nevertheless a triumph we think you’ll agree (top that next year!).  One of the cast mentioned something about the safety of passengers in the tractors’ carts – not sure who it was but he was wearing a shiny bald head and walrus moustache – obviously in costume disguise!

Still heading for the elusive ‘ring’ we were confounded that we were no closer to it – indeed if anything we were further away.  It seemed that we had been struck by some mysterious spell.  But once the Red Lion alehouse came into sight and the aroma of food came to our flared nostrils, thoughts of the ‘ring’ disappeared.  The grub was most excellent and we all ate our fill. The steak and kidney pies, yes pies, were last to be served but several extra portions of chips and veg relieved Pedro and Tim Mothy’s anxiety.  Unfortunately despite there normally being 2 guest ales on, Malcolm reported that he had been drunk dry over Christmas – only Guinness and John Smith’s to satisfy our thirst – sorry lads!  So the rumours were true all along.  Many lamps were rubbed but no genie arrived to make our dreams of a last minute delivery of ale come true.  Thingy made a run for it before the booing and hissing rang out.  Rob (Slater), Tim’s ‘ex’-neighbour!, declared that the smoothflow was not too bad but took it back when we said we were going to drop him from future productions.

The final scene saw our story come to an end.  Heading back to Stafford various players went their separate ways with only the real troopers still around for the curtain call.  Post performance drinks were ordered at the Castle Tavern, as both the Stafford Arms had shut permanently and the Railway Inn was shut until 5pm, but this time the Titanic didn’t go down as well as its namesake.  We failed in our quest for the ‘ring’ but we had a jolly good time trying.  Oh yes we did!!

Bye bye boys and girls

Sparklett

(with absolutely minimal assistance from Yupmeister)