Harry Potter and the seriously injured stuntman

According to the front page of the Mirror, Daniel Radcliffe's stunt double was seriously hurt during The Deathly Hallows pre-production testing at Leavesden studios, which is 4 miles north of Watford.

I was initially down to do a live from outside the studios, which meant I had some time (ie most of the day) to kill, so I was sent to the GLA to interview the Deputy mayor of London - Richard Barnes - because another reporter who was doing that story was running late.

I went with Gemma the PJ or RJ - a sort of hybrid camerawoman/journalist, who I think prefers the camera side of things - filmed the interview then got a lift to Waterloo where she was meeting the late-running reporter.

I got a bus back to Gray's Inn Road and started digitising the tape. On the way back I thought my story deserved a package as well as a live. We had plenty of Daniel Radcliffe b-roll, the Half Blood Prince trailer and a couple of other elements and I was sure we could find a stuntman.

So I went to see the Prog Ed and News Ed and put my case to them. They thought it might just work. We found a stuntman in Essex - Steve Truglia - and so cooked up a scheme to write my script whilst driving to his gym in Repton Park, (Woodford Green) film the interview and set up there, meet Joe the Sat Truck at Repton Park to file track and interview, then head on to Watford to film a Piece to Camera (PTC) outside Watford General before heading to the live point outside Leavesden Studios. My producer would assemble the package back at base.

Amazingly, all went according to plan. Got the script written whilst navigating Kate the camerawoman (she refuses to use sat nav), arrived at the Esporta gym at Repton Park, knocked off the interview, during which Joe arrived in his Sat Truck (that's him below). We left our interviewee and ran round the back of the gym, filed the track and interview, said goodbye to Joe and struck out for the M25.

I navigated into Watford, filmed a bong (for the top of the programme) and PTC outside Watford General, grabbed a seriously nice chicken filet burger and chips from Zaks Grill n Go Piri Piri opposite the hospital and started navigating out of Watford towards the live point. When I told Kate it was the first time I'd ever been to Watford in my life she laughed at me.

On arriving at Leavesden studios I was unsurprised to see two Sat Trucks outside the entrance and correctly guessed the other belonged to Five News. Their chief correspondent Jonathan Samuels and the Head of the Camera Unit Adam Cottam were on this. Jonathan was editing somewhere and Adam was busy wiping dog crap off his shoe.

Our Sat Truck engineer, Dave, was busy helping their Sat Truck engineer find the "bird" as they call it. Kate left me to it as she was going off shift and my next cameraman, the Legendary Bill Jones, arrived within five minutes. There is nothing that is not nice about Bill, a Welsh ex-copper who appears to be able to get on with everyone instantly. Given we were factoid-lite on this story I asked Adam what he knew. He said they had a name and a photo (more than us) and quite correctly said he wasn't sure he should tell me any more. I said I hoped he didn't mind me asking (he didn't) and we agreed I would wait for Jonathan Samuels to return as he would be a better judge of what information he might be able to pass on.

When Jonathan returned we discussed the story. Journalists often do this. When I was an entertainment reporter I would often have lengthy discussions with my rivals as to what lines were important about a given celebrity and where we wanted our interviews to go. You could often judiciously withhold information from your rivals if you had something particularly juicy up your sleeve, but 9 times out of 10, you help each other out.

Given a) our engineer had just spent some time helping Five News get a satellite signal to get their package on air and b) they were on broadcasting their story exactly an hour before us and so any information they were holding onto would be in the public domain, I don't think our discussion betrayed each others' competitive advantage.

It's always a potentially delicate situation, though. I once interviewed an old man about his classic 1939 Hillman car in Wiltshire. I'd driven down from London and got there at 10am. We filmed the car and did an interview with him outisde the car's garage. At 11am we were just leaving to do some filming of the car on the Wiltshire downs when a man from local TV arrived saying he'd got an appointment to film the old man too. The old man had probably double-booked us, but as we were just leaving I said we'd be back by 12.15pm and we headed off. Filming proved to be a very lengthy process. We returned at 2pm to find local TV man jumping up and down with steam coming out of his ears. We'd shafted him and he had every right to be furious.

In mitigation, we didn't shaft him on purpose - we were in a hurry and nothing would have made me happier than driving back to London with the rushes in the can at 12.30pm rather than 2pm, but there were certain shots that were necessary to make the piece we wanted to make and I wasn't going to compromise them in order to get back for the man from local telly. He should have taken my number.

Anyway I called base, told them to watch Five News - Jonathan did his live at 5pm - and I watched as he did so. Jonathan is very very good at what he does.

I then called base and we discussed what he'd said in his piece and if there was anything that needed changing in mine. Jonathan packed up and the Five News crew left, leaving Bill the same spot in which to set up for my live. As we were there in good time and my brain, unusually, appeared to be in good working order, I had a very clear idea of what I was going to say and almost memorised it very easily. I stayed in the warm car until 5.50pm, then got out, got rigged up and stood in position. The live top and tail was reasonably smooth. We de-rigged in the dark...

Men, de-rigging things.

...   and Bill gave me a lift to Watford Junction. During this journey the planning desk called and asked if I'd mind jumping into the Thames on Friday. I said I would if I could get a train straight home and a taxi to the river in the morning, which would save me having to go via Gray's Inn Road that evening to pick up my scooter. They agreed. I was home by 8pm.

6am eternal

Hello I am typing using my slow and dim netbook on a train from Manchester to Birmingham. Not the train I had originally intended to get. Not the train I was assured that would be leaving Manchester Piccadilly at 6.10am prompt when I called National Rail Enquiries at 1.20am this morning. No. That train was cancelled. When I realised this at 5.58am this morning I fearlessly hopped on the 6am train to Bristol (despite having a via London only ticket) hoping to pick up a Virgin Cross Country train to Basingstoke, then struggle back to Wlaton on Thames via there.

This time the cancellation wasn’t due to the air crash at Stafford, but a massive power failure around the Watford/Milton Keynes area which stopped all services out of Euston for all of Sunday. After a long discussion with the very helpful ticket inspector (or Customer Service Enforcer or whatever her job title is) Gail, we decided this would be fine and the trump card in any discussion with any Virgin or South West Trains person who thinks my ticket is invalid because I’m not travelling the stated route is that I am actually travelling a cheaper route by going through Reading and therefore if there’s any excess to pay, they should be paying me.

And anyway Gail wrote on the back of my ticket (see below) requesting my free passage through Berkshire and Hampshire in special official Virgin Trains felt tip, so I can hold this aloft as I pass through their ticket barriers and all will fall back in wonder.

Gaza

In trying to stop this blog being a constant moan I am tempted to cast about for something happy joy joy to wax about but I've just done a 3 hour programme on the Israeli ground offensive into Gaza.

Frankly I'm not qualified to offer a personal opinion about this, and given how much it inflames and polarises opinion, I'm not sure I want to, but in the course of the programme I interviewed a man in Gaza, who was talking quietly to me from his house whilst his wife and 3 children slept nearby.

He told me how scared he was and how he'd tried to explain what was going on to his kids - why they had to sleep with their clothes and shoes near the bed, what might happen to them if the troops reached his house, and he told me how he'd prepared for the worst, the possibility that he or a member of his family might be killed.

It put my facile concerns into perspective.

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'Twas the night before Christmas

And I'm spending it at 5 live. The photograph above is of the trees outside the Westfield, that massive shopping arcade which has just opened opposite Television Centre. I went there yesterday to buy some dinner, and after walking for about half an hour found myself in Waitrose. I bought some sushi, green tea and a flapjack and then walked the half hour back. I can report that it was all quite busy, and nothing was closing down.

When I agreed to do the show tonight I had no idea I'd be missing the kids so much. I haven't seen my older daughter for 2 days now, and whilst I was driving in to work this evening she was with her sister at a crib service, both dressed as angels. I called up this evening and she proudly informed me she'd put out a mince pie and a carrot for Father Christmas and Rudolph along with "a glass of milk and a glass of water", an evening combination she's partial to.

The show tonight finishes at 0030, which means half an hour's more sleep than usual before they both wake up. The subjects under discussion tonight include Christmas, Christmas TV and which is the best religion. I hope my mood improves as I don't feel too up for it at the moment. Thankfully I'm not working Christmas Day, which was a tough call as the money would have seen us well into January, but I've done it for the last 2 or 3 years and it felt right to give it a miss this time.

Happy Christmas everyone, thanks for taking the trouble to read this blog. I'll probably shut down for a bit until the New Year, but if you're a 5 listener I'll be doing breakfast next weekend. All the best.

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Josh Hartnett, James DeGale and Boy George

Josh Hartnett

All in a week's work, with grateful thanks to London Tonight. On Sunday, as mentioned in my last entry, I went along to the Old Vic to see luvviedom in excelsis.

Six mini-troupes of actors all frantically rehearsing six 15 minute plays that had only just been written. At lunch I spotted Sally Phillips, Julia Davis, the butcher from the League of Gentlemen, Dervla Kirwan, Jessica Hynes (nee Stevenson from Spaced), Tim Piggott-Smith and a lovely lady who I think used to be in EastEnders.

I didn't get to interview Martin Freeman because his wife had broken her hand the night before, so due to childcare issues he had to pull out. I also didn't get to interview Kevin Spacey as he wasn't in the country as his plane back from NY was delayed and there were some question marks as to whether he was going to make it back to London in time for the performance.

I did get to interview Josh Hartnett, Michelle Ryan (Zoe off of EE), and Jenny Agutter (one for the target audience), but first I got to see them trying to learn their lines, act and work out the direction all at the same time.

Josh alongside Sanjeev Bhaskar, which was strange, and Michelle and Jenny alongside Tim Piggott-Smith.

It's always rewarding to watch talented people at work, and getting access to the rehearsal rooms was a real privilege. The concentration levels were immense - trying to turn a freshly-laid script into a watchable play in the space of 11 hours is very hard work, and the collaborative creative process was absorbing.

I didn't ever quite forget we were watching Josh from them Hollywood films and Michelle off of EastEnders, largely because we were trying to shoot them with a view to putting a decent news package together, but part of me could have sat there all day picking up the trade shorthand and seeing exactly how it's all done.

Josh in the end was very helpful - I got a good interview and he was willing enough to do an opener down the barrel, which meant we had a great start to the package.

I interviewed Michelle a few years back in the line up for the Glamour awards when she'd just left EE and she was dripping with charisma. Every hack in the room thought she had a hell of a lot about her (even the girls, who aren't slow to find fault).

This time she was much more guarded and professional. Still obliging enough, but wary of evil people like me...

James DeGale, Frank Warren, Billy Joe Saunders and Frankie Gavin.

Frank Warren has signed James, Billy and Frankies up to go professional after their Beijing experience.

DeGale got a Gold, Billy Joe was just outside the medals and Frankie Gavin was sent home without throwing a punch after failing to make the weight.

Their professional 'coming out' was at a restaurant called Fredericks on Camden Passage in Islington. There was a presser, a photocall and then as many one-on-ones as you like.

I did an as-live with James DeGale for lunch, then more interviews than I actually needed and started to feel seriously unwell. I'd gone to bed with a ropey gut the night before but woken up not feeling too bad. Being freelance, it's not a good idea to call in sick, ever. So I went in. I left Fredericks with some good stuff from DeGale slagging off UK Sport and the ABA, however the story du jour was Olympic funding, and the reason for being there (a story in itself) was the fact Frank had signed these guys up to tour the country under the banner of The Olympians.

Having got all the material in the can I went back to base to edit. Because all I wanted to do was keel over I decided to focus on getting the piece edited and to air, when in fact I should have been doing some phone bashing to get the views of UK sport and the ABA.

In the end the piece wasn't as strong as it could have been. Wednesday was spent mostly at A&E in agony.

Two different doctors couldn't decide what was wrong with me. I left with a prescription for buscopan and a recommendation to take some paracetamol. I was booked to work at London Tonight, but had to call in sick and given how bad I felt I wasn't in any way sure I could work Thursday, so I knocked that one off too.

On Thursday I got an appointment to see my GP who gave me a prescription for some more drugs and a call to work for London Tonight on Friday. Were they sure? Apparently so....

Boy George

... which meant I found myself at 10am on Friday morning in Snaresbrook Crown Court to hear the verdict against Boy George. Court cases are a newsdesk's nightmare. Whether they conclude at 4pm or 10am, they have to fit into the evening's schedule, or even worse the jury stays out another night. Then the resources thrown at the story on the day are wasted and the programme has a big hole in it.

Conveniently we were getting a cuppa at the court canteen at just gone 10am (as was Boy George) when the call on the tannoy went out to file into Court 2. The jury delivered the guilty verdict, the judge said he'd sentence after Christmas, but that jail was "the most likely option" and ordered George too stay at home over Christmas and New Year.

I did a live from outside the court into the 11.11am update, then drove to Shoreditch to do a piece to camera for the package outside the flat where the sordid deeds took place and actually got my piece sent to the gallery server an hour before TX. I was quite pleased with it. And it was the lead, which was nice.

Dark, bleak, murderous night

It's not really, properly winter until you have travelled to work in the dark and left in the dark. Today, for me, is properly winter. Getting up at 5.45am this morning was not nice. Scootering 21 miles to the ITN building in the freezing rain, was not nice. Turning up for work half an hour early was just stupid. I forgot there wouldn't be much traffic before breakfast on a Sunday morning...

So I got to look at the day file and joy of joys I am doing an entertainment piece, but more importantly an INDOOR entertainment piece. It being a Sunday, and this being London Tonight, I was fully expecting to be reporting from the scene of another Saturday night stabbing in the freezing rain, but no, I have a 10.30am appointment with Martin Freeman, Jessica Hynes (nee Stevenson, from Spaced) and Michelle Ryan. And possibly Kevin Spacey.

Those crazy actor types are putting on their annual attempt to conceive, write and stage six 15 minute plays from scratch in 24 hours at the Old Vic. The writers get in at 7pm, they write all night. They give their finished scripts to the directors at breakfast. The directors have a think then meet the actors at 10 to start line-learning and rehearsals. They plays are staged at 7pm tonight. Then everyone goes and gets pissed.

It sounds pretty cool, and it looks as if tickets are still available. If you have between £75 and £250 to spare, it might be just the thing. The minimum price gets you free drinks. The maximum price is best seats in the house, free champagne, access to the dress rehearsal, a ticket to the pre-performance cocktail party and entry to the after party where all the actors makes speeches and get drunk. If I had £250 to spare I'd be there like a shot.

I will be filming part of the rehearsal process for the 4pm edition of London Tonight on ITV1, which means I will arrive whilst everyone is at their busiest and unlikely to want to disrupt rehearsals to talk to me. Nonetheless, and at the risk of annoying them intently, that is what I will try to do.

Then I'll get back to Gray's Inn Road for 2pm and spend the next hour and a half frantically editing the whole thing together. I will also try and take some photos for this blog if the cameraman has a stills camera.

The Glamour of Television

Welcome to the view from my hotel window by the River Severn: That doesn't really do it justice. It's a lot uglier in real life. Unfortunately getting real life out of a built-in webcam on a solid state netbook which can barely boot up without falling over represents something of a triumph.

Especially as pressing the "shutter" involves making wild stabs at the track pad as the pointer drifts past the relevant link on the "USB camera device" application. The blurry lights represent the amazon.co.uk warehouse.

It probably covers a good square kilometre of land, and is so big there are road lanes on a nearby roundabout which have "AMAZON" painted onto the tarmac.

Look, here's me: In a hotel room at very short notice ahead of a shoot for Five News tomorrow. What's it all about? I refuse to tell you, but it will be worth the trip, indeed.

Although this pc has the brain power (and the design values) of the average solar-powered calculator, it does also have a full keyboard and 3g connection. It in fact came free with a broadband dongle, which is like getting a free car with your tank of fuel. On the surface, a bargain, but in all honesty, it doesn't say much about the car, does it?

Still, here I am, listening to the radio genius that is Gideon Coe (John Peel's spiritual and stylistic heir) on BBC 6Music, tapping contendedly away, when I should probably be thinking about going to bed.

Gideon is now playing Killing Me by The Primitives. I'm as close to heaven as you can get, sober, tired, on your own in a room overlooking Europe's biggest metal shed.

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