Life through a lens

Last night I went to the opening of the Patrick Lichfield exhibition at the Chris Beetles Gallery. Joanna Lumley, much loved by all, introduced Barry Humphries who officially opened the exhibition. Barry is of the old-fashioned school; he had obviously taken some considerable time preparing a speech about his old friend Patrick Lichfield and his admiration for his work, but more than that, the speech was witty, informative and full of wonderful anecdotal stories. Very hard to see the exhibition last night as there were so many famous people looking at each other rather than the pictures. But I particularly liked the photograph of Susannah York and another of Marlon Brando in deep conversation with Charlie Chaplin. It's fun, and well worth a visit.

There ain't nothing like a Dame

Dame Edna Everage took Addenbrooke's Hospital by storm on Saturday morning. Not satisfied with opening the occasion, she then proceeded around the hospital and the stalls for the next couple of hours sharing her medical expertise and experience with the hundreds of people present. Mary had pointed out in her opening speech that the distinguished visitor before Dame Edna was Her Majesty The Queen. I left my poor wife Mary with the words, who in heavens name are we going to get next time? I know from messages passed on to me how grateful people are when a star takes the trouble to give up their time and offer their professional services at no charge. The turnout for the opening broke all records and I will end on the poem Dame Edna wrote specially for the occasion.

Ode to Addenbrooke’s – to be recited joyfully by an Australian Gigastar

I love to visit hospitals
No matter when or where
And my favourite department
Is of course, Intensive Care.
I feel happy and relaxed there
Far away from household chores
Bringing joy to all the patients
Pushing through those floppy doors.
As a kiddie I would visit
My dear old Auntie Molly
Who passed away quite suddenly
By falling off her trolley.
And years later when I took
the Theatre World by storm
I practically lived in intensive care
To cherish my husband Norm.
I even built a hospital
And gave it to the nation
Surely you must all have heard
of my Royal Prostate Foundation.
I have given more to medicine
Than those other famous Dames
And my husband’s organ has inspired
The Prostate Olympic Games!

But tucked away in Cambridge,
In one of England’s lovliest nooks
Is a hospital that I adore,
You’ve guessed it, Addenbrooke’s!
The concourse alone’s enough to make
you glad that you’re alive
(Call me old-fashioned but it reminds me
Of an efficient Terminal 5.)
I come here to have my hair done
Book a trip, or throw a party
Or sip my favourite coffee,
An Americano or a latté.

I guard my anonymity
When I’m here at Addenbrooke’s
So I’m not always signing autographs
Or receiving awe-struck looks.
And on those rare occasions
when I don’t want to be seen
I wear a polyester headscarf -
A present from the Queen.
But now, upon your Open Day
I’m so full-on I’m scary!
And I’m proud to be the special guest
Of my fragrant friend, Dame Mary.
For here you have a hospital
That all the world should see
It’s an institution,
life-affirming,
Iconic, like me!

So possums, open up your hearts
And if you will, your purses,
And remember all the fun we had
When we played doctors and nurses.


I had to rush Dame Edna back to London as her alter-ego Barry Humphries was appearing as one of the judges on the BBC programme, I'd Do Anything that evening. What a pro.

A Knight to remember

Last night, 1,200 people gathered at the Grosvenor House to celebrate Sir Ian Botham's knighthood and to raise money for 3 great causes: Leukaemia Research, English School's Cricket Association and Crossroads Centre. The guest list included some of the greatest players in so many sports - Ian of course, and his close friend Viv Richards sat on the top table with Eric Clapton and Charlie Watts - if that wasn't enough, Sam Torrance and Sunil Gavaskar made up our numbers. When the team photograph was taken on stage, these greats were joined by Gatting, Gower, Tuffnell, Jason Leonard, Matt Dawson, Thompson, Marsh, Willis, Mark Foster and countless others I can't remember, but who on any other night would have been the guests of honour.

The evening opened with the Band of the Irish Guards playing Land of Hope and Glory as Ian and his wife Kathy headed towards the top table. The entertainment continued on through the evening, ending with a superlative performance by the legendary Eric Clapton, who not only gave his services free, but allowed me to auction one of his famous guitars which raised £40,000 - part of the £206,500 raised in the auction. Among the other auction Lots, which is certain to cause amazement in press circles, was Piers Morgan's bid of £12,000 to edit The Mirror for one day. I can't wait. The evening will have probably have raised around a million pounds for the three charities that Ian supports. Mary and I crept off at 1am, but I'm told the last guests were seen leaving around 4am, and that several of them were due to have breakfast with Ian this morning.

Today I'm taking Barry Humphries up to Cambridge, so that Dame Edna can open the Addenbrooke's Open Day tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock. Any Cambridge readers, make sure you're there because she's bringing along buckets of Gladioli to throw at you. Have a good weekend.

Eating for my country

When you're promoting a book you sometimes have to do the strangest things. Yesterday I was interviewed by James Kidd for the food magazine Square Meal - taking place in one of my favourite restaurants - and to talk about my eating habits. Mr Kidd is a civilised journalist who doesn't spend the entire time trying to trick you into saying something silly, but is more interested in discussing the subject he said the interview would be about. No surprises that we touched on champagne and Shepherd's Pie, and what Mary and I serve our guests at our summer party. The meal took place in Lucio's on the Fulham Road, where we both had the courgette flowers to start and he ended with the Affogato, which is a disaster because I'm slimming (again) and piously watched Mr Kidd eating his.

In the evening I went to the Donmar to see Peter Gill's production of Small Change. The crits were very divided on whether this was brillant or boring, and the audience felt the same, because several people left during the interval while others cheered loudly at the end. Although the acting is of a high standard, I wouldn't put it to the top of your must-see list. My Personal Assistant, however, went to the first preview performance of the new musical, Never Forget at the Savoy Theatre, with a very sceptical, come on entertain me attitude. She reported back to me this morning that she thoroughly enjoyed it - it was very funny and had great energy. Such is her enthusiasm - and she was right about Dirty Dancing and Hairspray - that I shall be attending an early performance to see if I should be investing.

Football woes

Chris Beetles and I drove down to Reading last night to have dinner with John Madejski. He was naturally in a fairly introspective mood - his team is currently in the Premiership drop zone on 33 points with Fulham one above them on the same points. Fulham go to Portsmouth while Reading travel to Derby. If both sides win, Fulham will survive and Reading will return to the Championship. On the other hand, if Fulham lose or draw, and Reading beat the bottom team in the table they will survive. I don't think poor John will have any fingernails left by the time both games kick off at 3 o'clock this Sunday. Nevertheless, we shared an excellent dinner at the Leatherne Bottel. The view over the Thames must be one of the finest of any restaurant in England, and if that were not enough, the food is wonderful. If you're in the area, it's worth a detour.

Ham and pineapple or pepperoni?

At Stratford on Saturday I managed to fit in a matinee of The Taming of the Shrew at the Courtyard Theatre before my speech at the inaugural Literary Festival. The play first. The director, Conall Morrison, made the decision that this was not a story about a shrew woman being turned into an obediant wife, but about a suitor being such a male chauvinist pig that he demanded his wife just did everything he wanted. Fine so far, and an interesting idea. However, by the middle of the second act, I wanted to shout at the shrew, for god's sake tell him to get lost, he's a thoroughly unpleasant man! It's never been an easy play to perform, and any director has the right to seek a new translation, so although Mr Morrison succeeded in achieving his aim, the fun of the play was lost and didn't work for me.

I then went on to the Festival Marquee where I gave a short talk on my latest book, A Prisoner of Birth and the process of writing. The Q&A session that followed was fascinating, as the genuine literary audience were charming but very demanding with their questions. I spent a further hour signing books, and then left, pleased that I didn't get the question that had stumped one of the authors earlier in the week - what's your favourite pizza? Which reminds me to say that afterwards, I returned to The Dirty Duck for supper before spending the night at Ettington Park Hotel which remains one of my favourite hostelries.

Festival weekend

Tomorrow I'm off to Stratford-upon-Avon for their inaugural Literary Festival. I'm speaking in the festival marquee at 6.00pm, and will be signing some books afterwards. If you've got nothing better to do, I look forward to seeing you.

Opera in the Garden

After two writing sessions yesterday, I walked down to Vauxhall Primary School to cast my vote for Boris Johnson. We'll have to wait until this evening to find out if he's our new Mayor of London.

In the evening, Mary and I went to the ENO to see The Merry Widow which is such fun, though even I couldn't help noticing that there were 70 people on stage wearing the most fantastic costumes for each of the three acts whereas the night before I'd watched Vanessa Redgrave all on her own in the centre of a stage. The production was quite excellent with some memorable performances by Alfie Boe, Fiona Murphy and Philip O'Brien. If light opera is your thing, this is an evening for you.