About This Morris Dancing

This man is a fool.

As anyone who has followed our progress so far will have seen, the first three days of our Nine Day's Wander have been a real challenge – long days, long distances to cover, variable terrain and increasingly oppressive heat.

I've made a fairly big deal of how I would be taking on the role of the fool. Being a trained clown, sometime jester, and having some knowledge of Morris traditions (as well as a ridiculous outfit), it seemed a good fit for me to take on the Will Kemp role. On top of this, Andy would be really challenging himself, and I felt that I should give myself some kind of handicap to reflect that. So, I would dance along with my companions, I said. Most of the way, anyway. At least some of it.

On our first day I was full of beans and ready for some capering. I capered along the South Bank from the Globe to the bridge. That got me a bit out of puff. I capered across the river. I had to take a little break after that. I capered a little more. We came to Mincing Lane, where I could hardly not do a bit of a jig in front of the street sign. After that, my enthusiasm tailed off pretty sharply.

Will Kemp was a young man, in his prime, when he danced from London to Norwich. He also took a good two or three days rest between each leg, whereas we're doing blocks of three days in row.

Notwithstanding all of this, he must have had, to be frank, the fitness levels of a pro athlete and the willpower to match. Although I keep myself in reasonable shape, I'm not as young as I was and my knees and hips will just not have it.

At this point I've had to re-evaluate what my priorities are for this walk, and the main one has to be supporting my friend as he undertakes a colossally brave journey, keeping his spirits up and helping him out if he gets into difficulty. I can't do that if I can't walk myself.

So, much as it rankles, I shan't be dancing as we progress. I will still wear my cap, ass's ears and jangle my bells to announce our coming, but the dancing has to go.

HOWEVER. I will dance the last leg into Norwich, to the Maddermarket, in honour of the man who inspired us, and if anyone (Morris sides particularly, but I'll gladly jig with anyone) fancies meeting us on the way for a bit of a dance, I'll be most happy to oblige; we'll be making our way via Braintree, Sudbury, Bury St Edmunds, and Thetford. If you're on our route, please get in touch at ninedayswander@gmail.com and we'll try to schedule a stop.

Thanks everyone for the ongoing support; please keep sharing and make a donation if you can.

Tom

Why I'm Doing This: Andy

When I was first diagnosed with MS about three years ago, the doctor rather clumsily breaking the news to me gave the following advice: Don't tell anyone. People will treat you different. My first thought was You mean 'differently'. My second thought was 'You don't know my friends'. How did he expect me to keep a lifelong secret from a group of people intelligent and curious enough at least to ask what the walking stick was for? What could I say? "Oh, I was playing for the All-Blacks, and..."?

So I decided, pretty much then and there, to ignore his advice. Hiding one's condition – especially something as prevalent and misunderstood as MS – helps nobody out. So there's one reason for attempting this foolhardy publicity stunt. Every article, every interview will have to mention the MS and explain a little about it. I get to talk openly about it. And I get to raise money for a charity that, for obvious reasons, I'd like to have lots of money. And I still get to use the All-Blacks line when I'm feeling mischevious.

The other reason is my belief that outside the Comfort Zone is where the magic happens. And right now, typing this, I'm terrified about what I've got myself into. Walking distances is tough for me. My right leg tires and gets floppy until it may as well be a glazed ham for all the good it's doing me. I can trip over the smallest stones in the road. My balance becomes precarious. But I shall nonetheless pack my meds, a pen and some paper, point my eyes towards the horizon, and start walking. How much can you ever know about yourself if you don't ever set yourself challenges?

Why Kemp and the Nine Days' Wonder? Pragmatism. I pondered walking the length of Hadrian's Wall, but both ends of that walk are a long way from Norwich. At least with the Kemp route, as I near the finish line – the wall of the Maddermarket Church – I'll be able to see the smiles of my wife and my friends, and possibly a nice cold bottle of beer. And they're all things worth walking towards.

Thanks for reading this, and for following this challenge. If you've donated money, thanks again. We're already overwhelmed by your generosity. If you haven't yet donated, please consider doing so now: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/ninedayswander. See you on the other side. With blisters.

Why I'm Doing This: Tom

There a number of reasons I'm taking part in this mad little escapade, but they mostly boil down to one thing: like Will Kemp, I am a Fool.

I say that with a degree of professional pride. Over the last several years I've been privileged to train with some incredible practitioners in theatre clowning – first with the superb Bob Percy, then with masters of the art Angela De Castro of the Why Not Institute and Avner Eisenberg.

The clown is a state of mind which allows us to live joyfully and truthfully in the moment. It's continued to inform all my work as an actor, performer, director and teacher (and I now seem to be the go-to Jester for living history events in Wymondham), so it seemed to make sense that if we were to follow in Kemp's footsteps, I should probably do the dancing. But I believe it's also given me a useful toolkit for trying to approach the difficult times in life.

Which leads me to the other main reason: My dear Dad. He was diagnosed with Primary Progressive MS several years ago and as his condition has advanced he has had to work hard to adapt to his changing capability and need for support, which he's done with a stoicism and humility which makes me often a little teary-eyed. In his day he and my Mum were also members of the local Morris sides, and my some of my earliest childhood memories are of early morning Mayday dances, so in a way this is also a tribute to that.

When Andy and I first dreamt up this absurd idea on an idle, drunken afternoon at the Adam and Eve, the idea was not just to raise some cash, but to do something that reflected the daily struggle and effort that so many have to face just to get on with day-to-day life, whether that be due to disability, chronic illness or mental health. Skydiving looks fun, but beyond the sheer terror of jumping out of a plane, it doesn't seem to ask a lot of you.

So, like a fool, I'll dance.

Most of the way.

Why I'm Doing This: Adam

As well as fundraising for the MS Society, and the chance to spend quality time doing something silly with Andy and Tom, I am taking part in this trek from London to Norwich as part of my PhD research. Here’s a little bit about my research.

In the 1590s Will Kemp was the most famous fool on the London stage performing in plays such as Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In 1600 he morris danced from London to Norwich. When he wrote about this he described himself as a “mad morris dancer” who had spent his life doing “mad jigs and merry jests”. It was common in this period for madness and fools to be linked together. Some fools were mad, and would nowadays be diagnosed with a mental disorder, and others like Kemp were sane people who did and said mad things as part of performing their role.

I am diagnosed with a mental disorder. If I imitate Kemp and take part in a mad journey between London and Norwich how does that relate to Kemp’s performed identity as a “mad morris dancer”? This is my starting point for writing a collection of poems which will explore the identity of being labelled as mad and mentally ill and the ways in which it is culturally constructed. Whenever we take a break along the route I will be scribbling in a notebook.

One day in...

Wow! Less than a day in and we're already on triple figures! At this rate, we won't even have to do any walking to meet our target! Thank you so much to all who have donated so far. We love you xxx

What's this all about?

Just for a moment, let’s pop back to the 1590’s. Will Kemp is the greatest fool of his generation, a star of the London stage performing in plays such as A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Much Ado About Nothing. Then he quits. He’s a free man. He can do whatever he wants. He chooses to morris dance from London to Norwich. 

Now back to the 21st Century. Adam has decided to write about Kemp’s dance for his creative writing PhD. He’s going to travel the route Kemp took and write some poems. Meanwhile, Andy and Tom are looking to do a sponsored walk to raise some cash for the MS Society. Can they join Adam on his trip from London to Norwich? Yes! They will walk together. (Well, Adam will walk, Tom will dance, Andy will smoke and swear). For nine days in July this intrepid threesome will travel the roads and footpaths from the Globe Theatre in London to the fine city of Norwich. Please donate generously so they never have to do it again: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/NineDaysWander

How to Donate!

You want to donate some money to the MS Society? How very kind of you! You can find our JustGiving page right here: