Backstage with John Cleese in New Zealand

It's not every day you get to walk arm-in-arm with one of the world's greatest comedians, so when John Cleese walked past the Napier Mail last week I was on my feet faster than a robbers dog! No time to pussyfoot around, so I called "Yoo hoo, Mr Cleese, wait for me!" And he did!

"Walk with me," he said, "I want to visit the Art Deco shop and have good look around this delightful town."
Towering above me at 6ft 5 and taking two steps to my ten, this long-legged giant of comedy let me hang from his arm to keep up.

"Napier is great town and its buildings remind me of my home in California, because it also has that Spanish mission style influence."

By the time we reached the Desco shop, I felt as tall as him, and just when I thought my cleesey-cheesey grin couldn't get any wider, he invited me to meet him backstage after the evening show for photographs! Oh, yes please Mr Cleese.

By all accounts the show was awesome, and the general feedback from fans leaving the theatre was one of great satisfaction, in spite of feeling the show didn't really take off until the second half. But, unlike making movies, stand-up comedy calls for a lot of nerve because there's no safety net and no chance for a second take.

Backstage I was surprised to see his vulnerable side, let alone hear him talk about it. Even with a few healthy butterflies under control, the world's genius of comedy is not immune to feeling vulnerable in this kind of situation.

"For a start I couldn't quite figure the audience out, because last time we had such a tremendous audience. Tonight started well and then they seemed to go quite cool, and I just couldn't figure it out. Eventually things started to warm up and it went well, apart from one guy in the front row, who, even during the applause at the end, just sat there not smiling or moving!," he said, with a hint of doubt in his eyes.

Laughter did ring out, especially when he wheeled out a model of his late mother who was a tiny woman standing 4ft 11in in stocking feet. The discrepancy in height between mother and son was, in itself, an amusing sight that activated a rapturous applause. How could she have produced such a strapping great lad?

Throughout his performance, Cleese charmed his audience by threading together his life story, both on and off the screen, with anecdotes of humour and hardship, joy and tragedy, success and failure.

Of all the great things he's done and achieved in his life, this 66-year-old genius of comedy says the programme for which he is most proud would have to be the Lemurs documentary.

It's hard to imagine this man, who brought us the dead parrot sketch and the irascible Basil Fawlty could have such an affection for small furry lemurs, but he does, and here's what he once said …

"They're gentle, well mannered, and pretty and yet great fun . . . I should have married one!"