Copyright: ROB McGibbon clearly stated in print and online… not that any news outlet or journalist gave a four X!










Despite numerous requests for interviews from national newspapers to mark her 50th, Denise chose to do this interview exclusively with Rob McGibbon so that she could have confidence in the accuracy of the text. It was then syndicated to the wider media to gain maximum coverage…
Looking slim, fit and sexy, Denise van Outen strikes a raunchy and assured pose in a stunning exclusive new photo shoot with Karis Kennedy to mark turning 50.
The actress and TV star, who hits 50 today, has released the photos to celebrate how she is embracing the new decade with gusto.
In an exclusive interview, the Chicago performer and former Big Breakfast presenter reveals how she is striding into her fifties feeling “blessed” that so many aspects of her life are in the best shape ever.
In the wide-ranging talk, Denise opens up to reveal how:
– regular therapy sessions have given her a stronger mental health balance
– she has joined celebrity dating app Raya and is relishing the freedom of single life
– her acting and showbiz career is burgeoning in multiple new directions
– is preparing to fulfil a lifetime ambition to scale Mount Everest
Essex-born Denise – who has a 14 year old daughter called Betsy with ex-husband Lee Mead – is now gearing up for a year of celebrations to reflect hew new-found joie de vivre.
Denise on: Fitness, mental health and hitting the big 5-0…
“I feel great and I’m really happy about turning 50. With age, comes wisdom, and I’ve learned a lot of things about caring for myself better. If I think back to how I was at 40, I can see that I definitely make much more of an effort to look after myself now.
‘I have always kept myself physically fit because you have to be healthy in a career like mine. But these days I have a better balance and variety. I train in the gym and I play sport, like golf. I really look after myself and I only drink sporadically. I was a party girl in the 90s, but not too much because I was always working. I monitor my drinking and I’m more moderate now. If I go and party, I do it more during the day because I like a good night’s sleep.
‘But the big difference these days is that I also look after my mental health. I never really did things like this in the past, but as you get older, you realise it’s so important to look after your mind, as well as your body. I used to think therapy was a very sort of “American” thing, but I have since discovered that quite a lot of people do it – and I think it’s great.
‘I went into therapy about two years ago and have a session every two weeks – either on Zoom or face-to-face. Sometimes it’s just once a month. It depends what’s going on and how much stress I have in my life. It’s great just having that time to just sit down and discuss how you are feeling.
‘I have really close friends that I can speak to, but we all have really busy lives, so it’s nice to speak to somebody who is totally impartial. I’m a big supporter of having therapy because this is where you can talk about certain situations that are affecting you, or if things are getting too much.
‘I have been working in this industry since I was seven and I have been in the public eye since I did The Big Breakfast when I was 23. There has been a price to pay for all that. You sometimes feel like you live in a bit of a bubble and it makes you a bit closed off. Over the years I’ve felt like I can’t open up about how I’m feeling, but now it’s different. I can talk now and get my head around what is happening to me.
‘Back in the 1990s, anything I said or did would end up in a newspaper, so I became quite guarded and had trust issues. I decided that it was really important for me to start to address some of the situations I’d found myself in and change how I was affected by them.
‘Therapy has been really good for me and has helped me learn a lot about myself. I think the work I have done on myself has helped shape the person that I am at 50. And that is a totally positive thing.’



Denise on: Single life and the joys of being footloose and fancy free…
‘Anyone who has ever read a newspaper will know a bit about my love life! I have been single now for seven months and I’m really loving it. I think I never really ever allowed myself the breathing space between relationships to just enjoy the freedom of being single.
‘My parents have been married for 55 years and they have always been the benchmark for me when it comes to relationships. I hoped my love life would be like that, but obviously things have turned out differently. I’m OK with that. We live in a different age.
‘The thing is with me, I’ve always put everything into a relationship. I make the person I’m with the main focus – but I forget about me. I’ve had some relationships where I haven’t been able to fully be myself. A lot of women will relate to that. But I feel differently about it all now. I am older and wiser and because I have had my fingers burnt a few times, I now know what I don’t want.
‘This makes me feel really excited about the new decade and about the prospect of falling in love again. Since I was young, I have always either been set up on dates by friends or I’ve met someone through work, so I have never ever really done the modern way of dating until now.
‘I’ve always thought that a dating app would never be for me, but I joined Raya a few months ago. It’s known as “the industry” dating app and is for celebrities and people in the media.
‘I’m on there as myself and it has been fun. I’ve been going on dinner dates lately and I’ve met some really lovely guys. Some haven’t felt like a romantic connection, but I’ve made some friends, so I’m enjoying it.
‘I’m in a nice situation because I’m not in a hurry to find someone, so I don’t feel any pressure and it’s not as if I’m not looking to start a family, so the man doesn’t feel any pressure either.



‘Turning 50 feels like a very exciting new chapter in my life. I actually feel the sexist I’ve ever felt. I think with age, you don’t worry so much about what people think, you are more assured of who you are. And you know what you want.
‘It feels liberating to be single as a 50-year-old woman – totally liberating. I’m allowing myself to just go on dates and enjoy them for what they are. There was a time when I felt like I couldn’t really do that. I don’t feel pressured to rush into anything. When the time’s right, then I will be ready to meet “Mr. Right”.
‘Until that happens, I’m just going to sit back and go with the flow. I’m not gonna force anything. I feel like I can make the right choices now. This is the new me – single and ready for fun.’
Denise on: A busy career and new challenges ahead…
‘I’ve been in this business since I was seven and I have always worked. I’m a grafter and I come from a family of grafters. I used to feel guilty if I took my foot off the pedal, but I have got to the stage now where I have finally learnt to step back a little bit and make the right choices with work. I’m not just doing everything that comes my way.
‘I love my job, but it can be stressful at times and it can be overwhelming. I’m a single mum to a teenager, so I am constantly having to juggle things. There’s a lot to think about.
‘Part of being 50 and this new decade is making sure that I take time out and do all the right things that give me a fulfilled life. A lot of that means spending quality time with family. My parents are getting older, so I’m really prioritising seeing family members.
‘I’m very lucky that I get to do amazing things with my job, but sometimes just going for a nice walk every day and just being with family is far more valuable and that’s what you should embrace.
‘I also want to travel more and do fun things with my daughter. We’re basically best friends and she’s at an age now where we can do more together. We’ve gone through the hard part, so now is the time for more fun.
‘You realise as you get older that you should just embrace your age because you’re lucky to still be able to enjoy life. I lost one of my very close friends when she was only 52 to a brain tumour. When something like that happens you realise it’s a possibility for all of us, so you should grab life. I’m seizing the day and I’m seizing new opportunities.’
Denise has many ventures on the go. She now DJs at high profile events and will host a residency in Ibiza this summer. She has also set up her own DJ talent agency called Discoliscious and will release a self-penned dance track this June under the same name.
On top that, she is bringing back her Proud Cabaret burlesque show for one night only in August. Then, for two nights only in September in Southend, she will celebrate the 10th anniversary of Some Girl I Used to Know, the one one-woman play she co-wrote and performed to critical acclaim.



Soon after that play, she will release her first solo album, which contains a mix of covers and original songs she has written. Many are inspired by experiences from her life, which is why it is titled A Bit of Me – the name of her autobiography published by Penguin in 2022.
Denise is also re-uniting with Johnny Vaughan – her sidekick from The Big Breakfast – for a special television project to be announced soon.
On top of the work schedule, she will also begin plans to fulfil a lifetime ambition to climb to Basecamp on Mount Everest.
Denise added:
‘I seem to have spent my life spinning plates. Now I have decided to have a year of doing all the things I love – like the play and the music. Work will always be a top priority because it brings me so much joy and right now I’m back to really loving my career. I’m in a good place because I have so many different things going on.
‘I’m reuniting with Jonny Vaughan, but I can’t say at the moment what we’re doing. I’m sworn to secrecy under NDAs and all that, but we’ve got something really exciting for television that we’re announcing soon.
‘Alongside all the work, I am going to fulfil some personal challenges. I won’t be able to complete it in the next year, but I am gong to start planning to climb to Base Camp on Everest. That has been on my bucket list for ages.
‘I love trekking and leaving the commercial world behind to get back to nature. No phone, no glamour, just a rucksack. I’ve trekked in the Himalayas twice. I did Kilimanjaro for Comic Relief and I’ve done the Great Wall of China and Peru. I love the physical challenge of these things, so there will be a lot more of that stuff in my 50s.
‘On my actual birthday, I’m having a family meal, then I’m flying straight to LA that night. I used to live in LA, so I’m going out to see all my old friends there. I’m also going to Vegas to see Adele perform. I have known Adele since she was young.
‘I feel really fortunate to have reached a place of real happiness at this stage of my life. I’ve got amazing friends. I’ve met some incredible people through work and I’ve still got my old school friends. I’ve got a really good group of people around me and I have a lot of fun. Life is all about having the right mix of work, family and friends, so I feel totally blessed.
‘The cherry on the cake will be when I do meet a really good man. It’ll be nice when someone comes and sweeps me off my feet, but we’ll see. I’ve learned that you can’t force anything in life and everything’s about timing. I know it’s a cliche, but if something is meant to be, it will happen. I’m not in any rush. I’ve got a lot of fun to have before then – and that fun starts now!’
Some of the extensive national media coverage from this interview. …






Text copyright: Rob McGibbon.
Photos copyright Karis Kennedy Photography

This is a slightly extended version of the article that appeared in the Mail on Sunday newspaper…
Our jolly, mahogany-tanned captain glides the dingy tender to some rocks, then directs his group of excited day-tripper explorers to head for an indiscernible path between the tall reeds.
I lead the way with fearless vigour and a few minutes later we emerge at a beach of cinematic beauty, with alabaster-white sand and a glimmering sea of the palest emerald.
But the magical desert island spell is instantly broken by a vexed Italian woman striding towards us, clutching a walkie-talkie and snapping orders in comically accented English. “NO stop! NO towel! NO sit! Walk!” She then instructs our bemused troupe to follow her.
Welcome to Budelli island’s Cavaliere beach, a stretch of sand so precious that it requires its own security guard.
Budelli is one of more than 60 islands that make up La Maddalena Archipelago, a protected national marine park just off the coast of northern Sardinia. The entire area is gasp-out-loud gorgeous and has been a magnet for flotillas of sea-faring tourists for decades.
However, mindless souvenir hunters have stolen so much sand, shells and stones over the years that local authority officers are now stationed on a few ecologically fragile beaches during peak season. Fines can hit 3,000 euros for removing irreplaceable treasures.
I first went to Sardinia in 1977 (yes, I go that far back) and have re-discovered it in recent years as the idyllic European family holiday destination. It has everything: perfect weather, sea and beaches that match the Caribbean, delicious cuisine, plenty of culture and history, and a warm welcome wherever you go. And it’s only two hours from Gatwick.
We are here this time to discover the lesser-visited north and are using the hotels of Delphina Resorts, the island’s oldest hotel group, as stepping stones. It has eight luxury coastal properties in this region and is still owned by the two families who founded it 30 years ago. It has won numerous industry awards, most notably for its environmental initiatives.
Our first stay is at Capo d’Orso, a discreet hotel of only 80 rooms hidden amongst a woodland leading down to the sea. From the hotel, it is a short walk to a legendary local landmark – Roccia dell’Orso (Bear Rock) – a natural rock sculpture that has formed into the shape of a bear during the past million-or-so years.




After a gentle 500 metre ascent up steps, we stand beneath the belly of the beast and look down the Straits of Bonifacio that separates Sardinia and Corsica. An impressive vista. Safety ropes are on hand in case the wind gets too strong.



A short drive away is the port town of Pilau where we take a 15 minute ferry to La Maddalena island itself (60 euros with the car). We drive the length of the island in only 20 minutes and marvel at stunning coves that appear around almost every corner.
After Capo d’Orso, we take the SS125 and head to Le Dune resort on the far west. It is less than 50 miles across the entire width here, but we happily drag out the drive for most of a day to take detours. Driving is so easy and a joy in Sardinia. During a 10-day stay we did not encounter even one traffic light, let alone a traffic jam. As for speed cameras – Ha! – such malevolent, money-making machines belong to another, sadder world altogether. I think they call it Britain.



One stop along the way is to Aggius, a beguiling little town celebrated for its stone houses and for crafting the finest rugs on traditional looms. Sadly, the rug shops were closed when we arrived – the old fashioned lunchtime shut down – but we had the pleasure to stumble upon another local legend: Paolo Sanna, the doughnut maker. A cheerful and sprightly 81-year-old, Paolo has been frying his hand-made doughnuts from a little kitchen off the main street in the centre for the past 60 years. He rolls and fries one for me – one that is big enough to feed three. We happily devour it in the shade whilst sitting on slabs of granite with faces of angels chiselled on their sides. Sweet bliss – and the best two euros I have ever spent.
Le Dune, a sprawling resort on the far west coast, has copious sporting facilities and activities for children of all ages. It is perfect for families and is right beside Li Junchi beach, a stunning, uninterrupted stretch of 8km of white sand. Unfortunately, this is red-flagged for two days due to strong winds, so we head back to more tranquil waters on the northern coast.
On the way, we stop at Santa Teresa – Sardinia’s most northerly major town – and climb over and in-between enormous grey granite boulders to hike down to the sea’s edge. Here, we dunk our tired feet in the cool water and gaze at Corsica, just seven miles away.




A dreamy boat trip is really the only way to appreciate the beauty of the Sardinian seas and our next hotel has the perfect answer. Valle dell’Erica – the five star jewel in Delphina’s portfolio – has its own elegant 1927 wooden sailing boat called La Pulcinella exclusively available for guests.



It was aboard La Pulcinella that we visited Budelli and cruised around other islands, dropping anchor at breath-taking bays, to then dive off the side and swim in warm, crystal clear waters. A delicious lunch of seafood pasta and crisp local Vermentino white wine is served on board. On the way home, our deckhand flags down a passing Algida branded speedboat (Italy’s version of Wall’s ice cream), so we can buy Cornettos. A truly unforgettable day.



Most of our time at Erica, is spent kicking back on the serene Licciola beach, or in its spa and salt water swimming pools.
As we say goodbye to Sardinia, a member of the reception staff says with the warmest of smiles: “Stessa spiaggia, stesso mare.” She explains that this is a typical Italian summer farewell, imparting a simple wish to see you again next year at “The same beach, the same sea”. The phrase derives from a vintage Italian song of the same name that has had many popular cover versions over the years, most notably by Piero Focaccia in 1963.
Well, if the holiday gods shine on us again, we will definitely be to Sardinia – and we promise not to steal any of it!
Visit Delphina Hotels & Resorts at www.delphinahotels.co.uk



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Book to stay at the Virgin Hotel New York here…
This interview with Dame Mary was for The Definite Article column in the Daily Mail’s Weekend magazine. It was conducted over the phone in November 2012 and was published on 15th December.
The prized possession you value above all others…My home in Surrey. It was left to my late husband Alexander [and business partner Alexander Plunket Greene who died in 1990] by his great aunt, who designed it and had it built in 1928. We moved here not long after we got married in 1957. It’s a beautiful house that is full of wonderful memories and remains my sanctuary. This is where I am happiest.
The unqualified regret you wish you could amend…I have always loved painting and drawing, especially still life and flowers. There’s a part of me that wishes I had developed that side of my talent more and exhibited, but work was always so frenetic. Also, I am such a private person that I recoiled at the thought of showing my art, as it is quite revealing of myself.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…I would have breakfast in the garden at home with my partner Anthony Rouse, then we would be transported to the Pembrokeshire coast in south west Wales for a bracing swim. The water is so wild and wonderful there. I love swimming and don’t mind if it’s freezing cold because that makes you feel so alive. We would then go to Lake Como, Italy, for a superb al fresco lunch at Il Pomodorino with my son Orlando and his wife and my three grand children – Lucas, 10, Allegra, eight, and Massimo, seven. I’d have risotto and some chilled white wine, then we would all walk, swim and relax in the afternoon by the lake. I would end the day staying at La Colombe d’Or hotel in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, in the South France.
The temptation you wish you could resist…Wine, especially Pouilly Fume. I have always enjoyed not resisting temptation. Isn’t it the fun part of living? But I am 78 now and you have to be careful, so I try to resist drinking too much.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling touched me deeply when I was a child. I am a great animal lover and this story reminds you of the potent effect animals have on our lives.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day…It is not in my nature to want to spy on people. I can tell everything I need to know about a person from just looking at what they are wearing, or how they have done their make up. Why snoop around?
The pet-hate that makes your hackles rise…That funerals have to be big happy celebrations! There seems a need these days for everything to be jolly, but whatever happened to sadness? If you are being true to your feelings, I don’t think there is anything wrong with a bit of wailing.
The film you can watch time and time again…Gone With The Wind. I have lost track of how many times I have seen it, but I still can’t resist dipping in again whenever it is on television. I love its grand scope and it’s kind of sexy, but in a romantic way. I always love Rhett Butler [Clark Gable] saying “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn’. I will never tire of that scene.
The person who has influenced you most…Alexander. I met him when I was a teenager at Goldsmiths art school and he had the most incredible influence on my life and career. He was tremendously outgoing and confident and had amazing ideas. He was like dynamite. He encouraged my designs and launched the business. Without his drive and fearlessness I honestly don’t think I would have achieved half the things I did. He was a wonderful man.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…The Italian designer Elsa Schiaparelli. She was daring and brilliant and one of the truly great designers on the 20th century. I got to know her a little towards the end of her life in the late 60s and early 70s, but I’d love to go back in time to see how she was inspired when she was at her peak in the 1920s and 30s.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…Smile. It is so easy to do, yet so easy to forget. Smiling brings warmth and love into your life.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…I absolutely adore cows. They are the most fascinating, gentle and beautiful animals. Their eyes are so amazing. I have ten that live in the land around my house and they are adopted by us. I love to talk to them. There are few things better than falling asleep in a field and being woken up by an inquisitive cow.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…My wedding ring. It was a chunky gold circle handmade for me by the jewellery designer Gerda Flockinger. It was always a bit loose and three years ago it fell off in a car park outside The Volunteer pub near Dorking. It was nighttime and I couldn’t find it. I went back the next day, but it was gone and I was heartbroken. If anyone can return it to me I will be forever grateful…
The unending quest that drives you on…Curiosity. I like to keep my mind active and up to date with the latest fashions and make up. I hope to never lose that sense of needing to know.
The poem that touches your soul…I love poetry and I have written quite a lot, but the Lord’s Prayer is the most perfect piece of poetry and surpasses all poems. I always feel at peace and moved when I recite it. I love nothing better than sitting in a quiet church on my own, just thinking.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…That I am a confident extrovert. Even now people associate me with those glamorous photos from the 60s, but I am actually incredibly shy. Somehow I become a completely different person when I need to give a talk in public and can do it no problem. It is a strange contradiction because that is not me at all.
The event that altered the course of your life and character…Visiting Japan in the early 70s had the most incredible influence on me because its culture is so different. It changed the way I designed and my entire perspective on life. I found the women particularly fascinating. I virtually commuted to that country for many years and it took my career onto an even bigger world stage. I also discovered sushi, which I love to this day!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…I would find an ingenious way to embezzle one of the big bad banks and distribute the money to family and friends – keeping a healthy slice of it for myself!
The song that means most to you…Bring Me Sunshine by Eric Morecambe and Ernie Wise. Alexander used to sing it to me whenever things were going wrong and it always cheered me up. It is so funny and silly that it helps you get everything into perspective and be happy.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…Getting my OBE in 1966. I had never imagined I would be getting an award from the Queen. It was such a huge honour and I distinctly remember going to the Palace. As the Queen pinned it on me, she said simply, “More exports please!” It was typical of her to get right to the point.
The saddest time that shook your world…Alexander’s death. He was only 57 and it was ghastly losing him. He was such an exuberant, wonderful man and I still miss him. Andrew was also a great friend of his and misses him, too.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…I long for my garden to be complete. Working in it is one of my joys and I spend a fortune on planting and keeping it looking special. Obviously, it will never be finished because it is forever changing with the seasons.
The philosophy that underpins your life…Find time to stop and really appreciate your life. Ensure you enjoy it!
The order of service at your funeral…I don’t like to think about dying because I am still having so much fun. I went to Vidal Sassoon’s funeral at St Paul’s Cathedral in October and it was the best funeral I have ever been to. The music and the readings were just perfect, faultless. His family did the most amazing job, so I will leave the decisions to my family. But I will be happy with a small, private funeral at a church that is dear to me near my home. I would also like my ashes scattered in my garden.
The way you want to be remembered…As the girl who made clothes and make up that brought a touch of fun and colour into people’s lives.
Barbara Mary Quant was born on 11th April 1930 in Woolwich, London. She died at home in Surry aged 93 on 13th April 2023. RIP.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon
This interview with Paul was for The Definite Article column in the Daily Mail’s Weekend magazine. It was conducted over the phone on 6th November 2017 and was published on 2nd December.
The prized possession you value above all others…My five dogs – Olga, Bullseye, Eddie, Boycie and Conchita. They’re all rescue dogs, each with very different personalities. They follow me around everywhere at home and are really comical. They make me laugh and I love their company. If there was a fire, they’d definitely be the first things I’d save. I’m about to get another one from Battersea Dogs Home – a pregnant mongrel, who was found abandoned on Hampstead Heath. I’m going to give her a happy ending.




The biggest regret you wish you could amend…Messing around and not having a game plan for my life when I was a teenager. I lost valuable years of education and had no real goal or anything to aim for. I finally found a job I loved in Social Services when I was 22, but up until then I was a bit of a drifter, which was such a waste.
The temptation you wish you could resist…Staying up too late. I will read a good book, or start writing, and suddenly I find I’m still going at 3am or 4am. At other times I will stay up watching rubbish television, which by the early hours is always really horrible and violent programmes about serial killers or post mortems. Staying up late makes me feel like death the next day.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…The Complete Essays of Michel de Montaigne, the 16th century French philosopher. They are full of little nuggets of wisdom that make you think about life. I keep a copy nearby, ready to dip into, and I always feel better for reading it.


The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…I would go to various friends’ houses and cause chaos by pretending to be a poltergeist. I’d smash a few things and do some levitation, but I’d be much scarier around the people I’m not so keen on.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…No.1 is always any cruelty to animals, but I also hate ticket machines at railways stations. They give you about 30 different options for a ticket when all I want is a single or a return. You need to do a bloomin’ course to know how to operate them. They are hell and I end up in a blind fury.
The film you can watch time and time again…Wild Strawberries from 1957 directed by Ingmar Bergman. It’s about an old man recalling his past as he makes his last journey. It is beautifully shot, superbly acted and very moving. I see something different in it each time. I generally watch it in January, when things are flat after Christmas, because it really suits the mood.


The person who has influenced you most…My whole family unit – my mum and dad, my uncles and aunties. They were all such great characters and so full of humour. They had a one-liner for everything and were always giving me good bits of advice. Having such a warm childhood surrounded by so many colourful people gave me a great grounding for life.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…Rosa Lewis, who was the most famous chef in Europe in the 19th century. She was an eccentric and a formidable character. I’d go to her Cavendish Hotel in London to eat one of her feasts and talk about her life, but she was a real snob, so I’d probably be far too common for her.



The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…Try not to worry, it will all turn out well in the end. I’d encourage them to enjoy their childhood and not waste time worrying. Kids are under too much pressure these days, especially from social media.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…Herbology. I’ve been making my own potions since my 30s and love it. I’m pretty good and can mix infusions that cure all kinds of ailments or illnesses. I’m completely fascinated by it and have stacks of books on the subject.


The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…My hair colour. It was originally reddy brown until I got a flash of grey at the front in my mid-20s. Then it went salt ‘n pepper and now it’s as white as snow.
The unending quest that drives you on…Curiosity. I am constantly wanting to learn about new things. I know curiosity killed the cat, but it keeps me alive. If something grabs my interest, I will then read up on it so I know as much as possible.
The poem that touches your soul…First Fig by the American poet Edna St. Vincent Millay. It only has four lines, but is beautiful: “My candle burns at both ends/It will not last the night/But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends/It gives a lovely light!” I remember reciting it to myself in hospital 15 years ago after the first of my three heart attacks. I had been seriously burning the candle at both ends and I thought I was about to pay the piper.



The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…That I am delicate because of my past health issues. My cardiologist examined me recently and was puzzled. He said: “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re in great health!” I’m 62 now and I’m as tough as old boots. I think health is all about mind over matter.
The event that altered the course of your life and character…Getting up as Lily Savage for the first time to compère a talent contest at the Elephant and Castle pub in Vauxhall in 1978. It’s a Starbucks now, but it was the roughest pub in London back then. I had no idea what I was going to say, but it just flowed out and people loved it. I was working in Social Services at the time and had no plan for a career on stage. It was done in a moment of madness and was actually the first time I had even spoken into a microphone, but it was a revelation. The next day I had loads of phone calls from other places wanting to book me and my career took off.



The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…I would mix up a lethal poison that would kill all the rotten, maniac leaders in the world. I don’t want to mention any names in case I end up with a needle in my foot from an umbrella.
The song that means most to you…You’ve Gotta Have a Gimmick from the musical Gypsy has followed me like a shadow throughout my career. It was part of my act for years, so I can hardly bear to hear it these days, but I will always have a soft spot for that song because it served me so well.



The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…For starters, I wouldn’t go near any airports! I can’t stand them anymore because the security has gone beyond a joke. They even checked my glasses the last time. What did they think I had in them, a laser gun? So I would have the Orient Express re-routed to take me, my partner Andre and a group of friends to Scotland. Our day would begin with a fabulous dinner on the train, then I would sleep like a log because I always sleep well on trains. I’d wake up in Scotland and have breakfast as the beautiful landscape flipped by. We’d fly to the Isle of Skye by helicopter to have lunch at The Three Chimneys restaurant, which is wonderful. I’d have a dozen oysters with brown bread and a bottle of Guinness. In the afternoon, Andre and I would visit three wildlife rescue charities that are very special to me – Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre in Borneo, where I’d catch up with an orphan I love called Archie, then Wildlife SOS in India to visit the elephants, and finally one called CROW in South Africa. We would have dinner in Vienna at Hotel Imperial, which is like a stately home. I’d have a glass of red wine and goulash soup followed by some tafelspitz, which is boiled beef with carrots. It sounds disgusting, but is delicious and comes with a horseradish and apple sauce. We’d end the night listening to a jazz band and watching a burlesque show in a seedy underground club in Berlin, drinking the best absinthe whilst surrounded by a bunch of unsavoury characters.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…Around my 30th birthday were particularly happy times. I had a nice flat in Central London, Lily had taken off and I was enjoying a very sociable, hedonistic time. It was all so much fun and joyful.
The saddest time that shook your world…The death to my long-term partner and manager Brendan Murphy in 2005 from a brain tumour. I nursed him for six weeks and it was hideous to see him suffer. He was like a brother and a soul mate, so it was a bleak time. I stayed strong for him, and physically had to carry him all the time, as well as keep working, but I exhausted myself and promptly had my second heart attack not long after he died.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…I always wanted a bright red Lotus Europa Mark II, but there wouldn’t be much point because I can only drive an automatic. I’m also told that they are death traps.
The philosophy that underpins your life…Get on with it is my mantra. There’s no time to be messing around.
The order of service at your funeral…I’d have it at a small historic church on Romney Marsh, Kent. I want to make sure everybody is weeping throughout, so my cortege will be led by the Salvation Army band playing Nearer, my God, to Thee, then Tom Jones will sing St. James Infirmary Blues backed by Jools Holland and his band, and then Mica Paris will sing one of Mahalia Jackson’s gospel funeral songs. To cheer everyone up I would be carried out to a New Orleans jazz band playing When the Saints Go Marching In. I want my glass-topped coffin laid in forest and guarded by seven dwarves day and night!
The way you want to be remembered…As someone who tried to help animals.
Paul O’Grady was born on 14th June 1955 in Tranmere, Cheshire. He died at home in Kent aged 67 on 28th March 2023. RIP.


Read an extended version of this article at Metro.co.uk:
‘The car that is driving smiles and smiles…’
Felicity Kendal, 75, spent much of her childhood in India on tour with her father’s repertory company. She shot to fame playing Barbara in the BBC sitcom The Good Life in 1975. She is about to tour in Michael Frayn’s farce Noises Offand is writing the follow-up to her 1998 bestselling memoir, White Cargo.
First stage play I saw
My family’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream — but I was nine months old, so does that count? I was the Changeling Boy to my mother’s Titania and my view was from a basket. My childhood was spent watching Shakespeare plays from the wings or performing in them all over India. The first play I saw that was not ours was a school production of Richard II at the Doon, a posh boys school in Dehradun, in the north. It was an open air production with a forest as the backdrop. My sister Jennifer, who was 13 years older than me, played Queen Anne and King Richard made his first entrance on a real stallion. Fabulous!
First film I saw at the cinema
This will date me. The original Walt Disney Peter Pan from 1953 when I was about seven. My aunt Mary took me to see it in Bangalore. I loved Captain Hook and his wicked smile and Tiger Lily, but I thought Tinker Bell was a pain in the arse. One of my very few regrets in life is that I turned down the Peter role in a great production at the Coliseum in 1976 because I was having problems in my love life. Damn. Whoever that boyfriend was, he wasn’t worth it.
First actor I admired
Paul Scofield playing Timon in Timon of Athens at Stratford-upon-Avon in 1965 when I was 19. I went on my own and sat up in the gods. Paul was mesmerising. He was physically beautiful and I remember him striding the stage like a panther, his voice filling the theatre. He had such charisma that he commanded concentration from the audience. I went again the following week, even though I had so little money.
His performance gave me the determination to fight to get into the business. I went on to work with him three times — in Amadeus, Othello at the National and in Heartbreak House. He was very special and I loved him dearly. I flatter myself that, as much of a recluse that he was, I became one of the few who could claim to be his friend.
First TV show I never missed
I was never that interested in television when I was young because I saw it as second class compared to theatre or films. Plus, there weren’t many televisions on tour in India. Back in England, I first lived with my mother’s family in Solihull and they watched TV every evening after supper. It was me and my three cousins, my aunt and uncle, all crammed into a tiny front room. The Avengersand The Man from U.N.C.L.E were firm favourites — but if there was anything remotely sexual my uncle felt so uncomfortable that he’d get up and go to his study.
First sitcom that made me laugh
Dad’s Army was unmissable. All the cast were fantastic, the scripts were to die for, and the comic timing was blissful. They made it all look so effortless. My favourite was John Le Mesurier as Wilson. I called him Eeyore because he was always the gloomy one. Comedy is all about timing and great scripts, which is what we had in The Good Life. I have done a lot of comedy over the years because it is fun and lifts my spirits. That’s why I’m doing Noises Off.
First book I loved
A thrilling biography about Mary Queen of Scots, simply called The Queen of Scots by Stefan Zweig. I remember reading it in my early teens on a voyage from Bombay to Singapore. Our theatre company always travelled in the cheapest cabins and I could not wait to crawl on to my top bunk, open the book and disappear to the 1500s. It was a total escape.
First album I bought
We only had a very basic portable gramophone in India and we had very little money, but when I was about 14 my sister Jennifer gave me an LP of Albinoni’s Adagio for Strings in G minor. I listened to it endlessly and I still love it. It is haunting and beautiful and it takes me straight back to those years. Jennifer died of cancer in 1984 when she was only 50, which was awful. She was the star of our family and that piece of music always reminds me of her, so it is particularly moving. It makes me want to cry.
First famous person I met
Nehru [the Indian prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru] when I was about six. He came to our production of The Merchant of Venice in Delhi. He always invited my dad to lunch whenever we were in Delhi. I also met the Maharani of Jaipur — Gayatri Devi — when I was 12. She invited our company to tea. She wafted into the room on a cloud of glorious jasmine perfume. To this day, she is still the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I didn’t know at the time that she was famous, but I was stage struck.
First time I cried at the cinema
The first film that made me cry as an adult was Brief Encounter with Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard. They gave such subtle, beautiful performances — a masterclass in the lesson that less is more when acting in films. Being real is what works, not hamming it up.
Felicity Kendal is in the 40th anniversary production of Noises Off, opening at Theatre Royal Bath on Sep 22, then touring until Oct 29


‘This account will not be verified because…we could not reliably verify that the account is a notable person, organisation or brand.’ Try saying that to my mum…
I smiled wryly the other day whilst relaxing on my windswept Devil’s Island when I read on Press Gazette that a militia of 80-plus fellow islanders are waging a desperate campaign for Twitter to recognise them with the Blue Tick verification badge.
The skirmish has broken out because these humble freelancers have been rejected, despite Twitter’s grand gesture last May to let more people of “note” into its fancy blue club – including freelance journalists. Golly, the honour.
It was the unabashed neediness underlying the campaign that tickled me most – not least because I could relate to this embarrassing affliction. About six years ago, my faltering ego took me in search of a Blue Tick. I was miffed that certain staff journalists, ones who delivered a fraction of my output for far less high-profile publications, had a hallowed Tick of acceptability. How so? I want one.
I can’t remember exactly how I applied, but I got rejected and I gave up being bothered long ago. Then I read that even lowly freelancers – the Morlocks of the media – might now be allowed out into the sunlight, to step inside beyond the light blue velvet rope. So, I thought I’d try again.
On Tuesday, I faithfully loaded links to recent cuttings – Daily Mail, The Sun, Metro. Not too many to choose from, it has to be said. Foolishly, I also added a scan of my passport (Dammit! Idiot! Oi, Twitter, delete this private document, or at least explain what you are doing with it on your server farm).
About twenty minutes later, I got exactly what I deserved: REJECTION. Ahhh, the freelance’s most consistent companion. Twitter’s pet bot had lovingly emailed a brief, sniffy dismissal:
‘This account will not be verified at this time because the evidence provided did not meet our criteria for notability. As a result, we could not reliably verify that the account associated with the request is a notable person, organisation or brand.’ Try saying that to my mum.
Twitter bot added archly: ‘If you believe the account (that’s my career you’re talking about) may be a good candidate for verification in the future, we encourage you to submit again after 30 days. Thanks, Twitter.’ Now run along and fuck off.
Ha! I immediately updated my Twitter profile (10 years, 20.6k tweets, 2,502 Followers, folks) to celebrate the fact that I am officially not ‘a notable person, organisation or brand’. Proud. And then I did what all self-starting freelance journalists should do: I dusted myself down, spotted an angle for a story, and pitched the idea for what you are reading now to the editor of Press Gazette. Freelancing is all about turning a negative into a positive. Optimism is oxygen. It leads directly to heating and food.
So, exciting times ahead. I have now got a month to prove my ‘criteria for notability’ and re-apply for a Blue Tick. Maybe I can upload all my cuttings from national newspapers since that first shift on The Sun in October 1986. You see, I actually do have them ALL! Sad, but true. They’re in huge scrapbooks, or paper files, or boxes. I’m leaving this hard-won archive of journalistic genius to the British Library or the V&A – whether they want it or not.
But maybe I can narrow down the area of ‘review’ for Twitter’s bots to a few bite-size chunks of work, like my 400-plus celebrity interviews for the Daily Mail’s Weekend mag from 2011-18, or those easy-peasy long pieces for The Sunday Times Magazine. Or maybe I can just lob in a few hundred spreads with the ‘stars’ of London’s Burning and Bad Girls for the red tops throughout the 1990s.



Nah. Of course I’m not going to re-apply and today I encourage all freelance journalists to do the same. Don’t fall for this vanity badge bauble. It’s just a crass humblebrag to your mates, a little ‘ooh, look at me’ swagger. It is definitely not a calling card of credibility that will secure more work from editors, as one campaigner laughably suggests. No one has ever rejected a feature idea from me because I don’t have a digital blue thingy on Twitter. It was because the idea was not for them.
In fact, I am going one step further – I am launching a rival badge of authenticity, something that will ONLY be awarded to journalists. Comedians, politicians, doctors, lawyers, rappers, candlestick makers and, influencers – especially influencers – need not apply. This will be the journalists-only club. And what could be better or more credible? Staffers are welcome. Freelancers go to the front of the queue.
This badge will be for the people who create the content that becomes the news. I have been freelancing for national newspapers since February 1990 (after I told Kelvin MacKenzie to shove the job) and if I have learnt one thing, it is this: no newspaper, magazine, radio show, or TV bulletin, stands a chance of getting produced if it were not for the loyal army of long-suffering freelance journalists.
So, comrades, hold your heads up high. Kiss goodbye to the silly Blue Tick and say Hello to the ‘Blue-J’. The powers behind Press Gazette are on board and between us, we will authenticate all applications – personally, not robotically. With your support, we hope that this will become the global kitemark of journalistic excellence to be displayed on your social media profiles.
When I started writing this piece, I noticed that my dear showbiz light acquaintance Joan Bakewell was blue badge-less. Now, she’s done a bit of journalism in her time, so I wondered why. I emailed her and she promptly replied:
“Rob, It has never occurred to me to be concerned….or to apply. I don’t even know what the blue tick signifies. People have such fancy notions of themselves! Joan”
Ha! Good on you Joan. I will invite her to be the honorary president of the J-Badge Club and I hereby invite all 80+ of the desperate Blue Tick brigade to apply and become our founding members. Be proud to be part of a group that actually stands for something: JOURNALISM.
ENDS!


















Dame Joan Bakewell has been a leading broadcaster, journalist and author since the 1960s, when comedian Frank Muir dubbed her “the thinking man’s crumpet”. Now 86, she was awarded a life peerage in 2011 and took the title Baroness Bakewell of Stockport to reflect her Northern upbringing. She has been married twice and famously had an eight-year affair from 1962 with playwright Harold Pinter, which inspired his 1978 play Betrayal. Bakewell lives alone in Primrose Hill, North London, and has two children from her first marriage, Harriet, 59, and Matthew, 57 and six grandchildren, aged 18-26.
My day begins with a rigid routine that gradually gets ragged as the day continues. The alarm goes off at 6.50am, which gives me time to fetch a cup of tea and come back to bed to listen to the Radio 4 news at 7am. I have Earl Grey – always decaffeinated because I have a lot of adrenaline of my own. I’ve not had caffein for at least ten years, so if I ever have it these days without knowing I’m as high as a kite.

I never listen to the Today program after the news because there’s far too much testosterone for me at that time of the morning. I have The Guardian delivered, so instead I read that cover to cover, except for the sport and pop music.
I am very much a morning person and wake up with lots of energy and buzzing with ideas – well, probably more attitude, than ideas. I go on Twitter and send out a few tweets in response to the news, as a way of getting any irritation out of me. I also respond to any comments from friends on Twitter, as a way of staying on touch.
Just before Christmas, I moved into my new home after living in the same big house for 55 years in Primrose Hill. Moving was a great trauma and a lot of stress, but it is important to make the move at my age before it’s too late. I had moved into the old house with my husband Michael in 1963 when the area was really shabby and unfashionable. The house cost us £12,500, which was a lot of money then and we needed a mortgage, but I will not say what I sold it for.

I have downsized to a very large former artist’s studio, which is just a ten minute walk from where I used to live. It is far easier to organise and manage, so I’m loving it. I have even prepared a small bedsit in the attic area for a carer, should I ever need one. It’s best to think ahead.
I take three pills each morning: two supplements – Omega 3 and Glycocyamine for my bones – and Statins to stop me having heart trouble. For years, breakfast was marmalade on toast, but recently I started having granola with fresh fruits, honey and yoghurt. I spend most mornings working from two desks I have on a mezzanine level overlooking the main room – a large one for general work, such as writing book reviews or speeches, and the smaller one for household bills and Thank You notes.
As you get older, you have to rely on people to help. My housekeeper and friend Frances turns up every weekday at 10.30am. She has been with me for 20 years and sorts me out. I work from a MacBook Air laptop, but I’m not particularly techie, so I have a man called The Mac Doctor who is a delight. If something goes wrong, I scream down the phone and he comes round and saves me.
Two mornings a week, from 8-9am, I go to the same pilates class I have been doing for 25 years at a studio a short drive away in Belsize Park. This has kept me agile and my posture in good shape. There are six of us in the class and we have become good friends.

I usually have something light and simple for lunch at home – a bowl of homemade soup, avocado with smoked salmon, or some cheese and biscuits. Quite often I will fry up leftovers from another meal. I was a war child, so I hate to throw anything away. I always listen to the World at One with Sarah Montague – and then it is time for my daily snooze!
I have been having an afternoon nap ever since doctors advised me to rest during the day when I was pregnant with Harriet in 1959. These days, I even have one whenever I’m on location filming for television. Storyvault Films, the production company I work for, really look after me and always fix up a local hotel room for my nap. If there isn’t one nearby, they bring a fold out bed, with sheets and pillows, which they put up in a Winnebago. I have a mediative technic that helps me neutralise my brain and sleep for 20 minutes. I believe in the great merit of a snooze because I come out bouncing and refreshed and will keep working happily long into the evening when everyone else is flagging.
My afternoons on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday from 2.30pm are spent at the House of Lords. I drive there in my red Mini Cooper, which is an extension of home. I crawl through the traffic thinking, listening to the radio and working. I park at the House where the Mini looks a bit lonely alongside all the big Audis and Lexus’s.

I was invited to be a working peer by Ed Miliband and I was more frightened when I was giving my first speech than I had ever been when broadcasting to millions. You are talking to an extremely learned lot who are very authoritative, but is a collegiate atmosphere and I enjoy dealing with ideas and engaging with interesting people. I get a sense of fulfilment going there.
I chose my title Baroness Bakewell of Stockport because I felt that it was important to go back to my roots. Initially, I thought of using Camden Town or Primrose Hill, but that would hardly authenticate any views I wanted to express about the great Northern Powerhouse! Besides, my roots are important to me.
My younger sister Susan and I were brought up on a new plot of houses on the outskirts of Stockport that had been built on the road to Macclesfield. The development remained unfinished for years because of the war, so we could turn left out of our house and within a matter of yards be in fields and then the countryside. It was a wonderful place to grow up. Susan died from breast cancer when she was 58 in 1997.

I had a complicated relationship with my mother Rose. She was a highly intelligent woman, but she had married young, as they did in those days, and felt completely unfulfilled in her life. She was depressed, although no one described it as that then. I just thought she was being difficult. She died from leukemia, also at 58, when I was 28.
At about 4pm I need a sugar rush, so I go to the River Restaurant at the House and have a cup of tea and a scone with cream and jam, or a piece of chocolate cake. Work there usually finishes at 6.30pm, unless there’s a debate, and then I creep home. Often I go out to dinner with friends, either locally or in the West End. I will have a glass of white wine, but don’t drink much these days. I also go to the theatre a lot and enjoy the opera. One of my great indulgences is using taxis. I either hail a black taxi in the street, or book one with the same local radio cab company I have been using for years.

I’m a news junkie, so my day ends with watching the headlines and the newspaper review on the BBC News Channel, and then I’m in bed by 11.15pm. I always have a couple of books on the go, so I will read for a while before nodding off. I’m a good sleeper, so I will be out until the alarm goes. I used to like a small brandy as a nightcap, but I have stopped that because, like most old people, I do not want to get up in the night.

“I’m not someone who looks back. 90210 opened some doors and I don’t regret doing it, nor do I have any illusions that the interest in it will go away”
A note on the text from Rob McGibbon: This interview with Luke was conducted during lunch on the last day of filming of The Beat Beneath My Feet in October 2013. It was written for The Independent, which commissioned it, then spiked it.
I was an Associate Producer on the movie, which had a screenplay by Michael Mueller and produced by Scoop Films. I had fluked into the film a few months earlier after an impromptu social meeting with Raj Sharma, the founder and owner of Scoop. He told me that he had just green lit a new film, but was really struggling to cast the lead role. I asked him to summarise the plot. After he had finished, straight off the bat, I said: “You need an American, someone who was really hot in the 1990s. What about Luke Perry?” It would prove to be a moment of divine casting inspiration – as well as deep relief that all those pointless years in showbiz journalism had not been entirely wasted. Raj was intrigued by the idea. Three weeks later, he took me to dinner and announced with a shrill of excitement: “You won’t believe this, but we have signed Luke Perry!” From that moment on I was heavily involved in the film. This included interviewing Luke, and, quite unbelievably, “starring” in the last scene of the film “with” him. My quote marks.

The director John Williams was in desperate need of a new extra for the final scene, but it was getting late. We had about an hour left to shoot before the film had to wrap and John wasn’t happy with the member of the crew who had been lined up for the part. He scoped around the school hall where we were filming and suddenly his eyes alighted upon me. He came over and scanned my blue Geox bomber jacket and my two-tone burgundy brogues. He then muttered a sentence that had never been directed at me before, nor since. “You have a great look.” I instinctively looked behind me. He then explained what I had to do in the scene. He noticed my alarmed look, then asked pointedly: “Are you up to that?” Er, yeah sure. I was to be Luke Perry’s guitar wrangler, backstage at a big rock concert. The scene involved Luke walking towards me, followed by the steady cam. I would shake his hand, wish him good luck, and pass him his electric guitar. Easy. Well, until a loud, beefy bloke aggressively shouts “Action”. Luke very kindly did a rehearsal with me before the camera started rolling. “You just do it anyway you feel is right, my friend,” he said. I immersed myself in character and impressed him with my natural talent in passing an object to another human being. It is fair to say that I nailed it. Well, I didn’t cock it up. In the final cut of this scene, my right elbow and hand get star billing. At least I can say, without any sense of hype, that I worked on a film with Luke Perry and that he was great to work with.
In all seriousnesses, he was. Luke was a generous actor, who was encouraging and kind to all the cast, most notably Nicholas Galitzine who was making his first film. But, beyond that, Luke also brought a vast amount of support to the production team, many of whom were very new to the business. He had no airs and graces and happily put up with his “luxury Winnebago” for the shoot, which was a particularly decrepit camper van. He was a shy and intense character who preferred to keep a distance, but he was also quick to muck in and help when help was needed. Once the film wrapped, we took over an upstairs room of the pub where we had been filming and Luke got straight behind the bar. He served drinks to all the crew for many hours. I had a brief chat with him before I left and he gave me a quick hug and thanked me for suggesting him for the part. He was a good guy with a big heart.

Interview by Rob McGibbon at The Bedford, Balham, London, October 2013.
It’s one of the last places you’d expect to find Luke Perry, the cool dude from Beverly Hills, but here he is high on the roof of a vast and fetid pub called The Bedford in Balham.
The sunny glamour of the 90210 zip code is replaced by the grey urban reality of SW12 9HD, but he’s gamely climbing sloping slate tiles during a photo shoot so the distant London skyline can fill the background. To his credit, Perry doesn’t even flinch when the photographer shouts, a touch gauchely, “G’on, gimme a mean James Dean look.” This was the impossible celluloid comparison he was saddled with twenty-five years ago. Evidently, it still shadows him.
Numerous moody scowls later, Perry squeezes in opposite me on an abandoned old picnic bench table and begins constructing a roll-up with Golden Virginia. A screen of pub tea-towels flutter on the washing line near us and trains from the station below clatter by. It begins to drizzle. Surely, that James Dean tag gets on your nerves?
“Hey, I’m easy, man,” he says in a husky drawl, with an insouciant smile. “There ain’t nothin’ new under the sun for me with that kind of stuff. I maintain a relaxed line.”

Perry’s resigned calmness is understandable. He lived through the mayhem of teen heartthrob fame and has the wardrobe of white crew neck T-shirts to prove it. And his face bears testament to that. The James Dean quiff has thinned and receded noticeably since those pin-up days, while the frown lines in his forehead are deeply etched.
He is also craggy around the eyes but, for 47 (soon to be 48), Perry has worn pretty well. The face is still angular and he remains lean, toned and handsome, not to mention, inescapably cool. He is affable and likeable, but is instinctively guarded and wilfully remote.
Throughout the 1990s Perry played rebellious Dylan McKay in that seminal teen series with Jason Priestley and Shannen Doherty. He chalked up 199 episodes and posters of him papered the homes of besotted girls around the world. Fans often besieged his parents’ home in the mid-West hoping he’d turn up.
The years since then have been mixed, both professionally and personally. There has been no stellar Hollywood movie career that many predicted, but unlike some of his fictional classmates he has never stopped working, which is no mean feat considering the typecasting inflicted by such a huge TV series.
American TV series and made-for-TV movies have been his staple out-put, as well stage work, including The Rocky Horror Show on Broadway and When Harry Met Sally in the West End in 2004. Life away from the screen has had its challenges, too, not least when his ten-year marriage to Minnie Sharp ended in divorce a decade ago. They have two teenage children – Jack, 17, and Sophie, 13.

You sense that bringing out the ashes of Beverley Hills 90210 could be a touchy subject with Perry, but he bats it away easily. “I look back on those days fondly,” he says. “I love those people. Jason [Priestley] is still a dear friend and we hang out a lot. We even vacation together with our kids. I’ve lost touch with most of the other guys, but hey it’s a long time ago, we’re all busy getting on with life.
“Any of the negative stuff that came from the show is far surpassed by the positive. I learnt so much about acting and filming and it changed everything for me. It was quite a ride and the association with such a big series has hardly been unkind. A lot of people watched it and loved it. Who I am to complain?”
But how about the pretty boy label, surely that has been a pain and hard to escape? “I don’t know how to answer that. If I had a succinct response, I would share it with you. I don’t think about those things because it seems you’re talking about someone else. I’m an actor. It’s as simple as that.

“Besides, I don’t really see the downside and, if there is one, I don’t concentrate on it. I’m not someone who looks back. 90210 opened some doors and I don’t regret doing it, nor do I have any illusions that the interest in it will go away. I mean, we’re talking about it now, even though it has nothing to do with what I’m doing here.”
Fair point. So what brings him to the dubious delights of Balham? Perry is here playing the lead amongst a group of unknown actors in The Beat Beneath My Feet, his first foray into a low budget British independent film.
The Beat Beneath My Feet is a comedy drama with Perry as a broken down American rock guitarist called Max Stone, who has faked his death after tragedy and financial ruin destroyed his life. Stone re-surfaces in South London, where he is recognised and blackmailed by an obsessive teenager called Tom, played by newcomer Nick Galitzine.
Tom is hell-bent on becoming a guitarist and their unlikely friendship makes for a moving and entertaining story that has been receiving a positive reaction on the independent film circuit. The movie launches at London’s Raindance Film Festival later this month.
But what on earth draws a star like Luke Perry to such a small movie and how does he swap Beverley Hills for Balham?
“I’m very comfortable in places like this,” he says, gazing across the rooftops. “I come from a very working class, blue-collar area in Ohio, so these smells and inner city vibes are as familiar to me as a place like Beverly Hills. Besides, I have a real love for all aspects of London. After-all, my ex-wife is British.

“And me doing this film always comes down to the same thing: Am I moved by the story? I read the script and it moved me. There have been moments on this where I have felt this character flowing through me and that has touched me deeply. I have felt overcome with emotion and those fleeting moments are the best you can hope for as an actor.
“Sure, it would be great to have an extra 50,000 dollars to spend on certain things, but that won’t necessarily make the scene any better. The only down side to this movie has been the food – it’s not been great!”
Clearly Perry has been doing well enough to indulge in projects that creatively appeal, so how are things looking for his career in general? He is predictably laid back:
“I’m somewhere between my last job and my next one. That is always the way I have looked at this business. My last job is behind me, my next job is out there somewhere in front of me. I just keep going like that and I’m lucky to be able to do things that interest me.

“I choose how much and what I do, but that doesn’t mean I get the pick of everything. Maybe Tom Hanks gets that trip, but any actor who says otherwise is full of sh*t. I just keep on going.
“As far as I can see, no movie can make your career and no movie can break your career. It’s all just one after the next. As long as people watch this and see something they haven’t seen before, then I’m happy. If the movie also makes some money, well, no-one is ever p*ssed when that happens.”
And, with that, Perry runs a hand through his hair and heads back for filming in the pub below. He hunches into the collar of his coat and ambles off looking, it has to be said, very much like James Dean.
Following a stroke, Luke Perry died in hospital in Los Angeles on 4th March 2019. He was 52.

Photo by Charlie Alcock for The Sunday Times Magazine (December 2018)
In 2002, writer Rob McGibbon was unexpectedly hit by gout. Years of secret suffering has followed, but here he explains how he turned the agony into a catalyst for positive change…
I have a painful secret: I get gout.
I will save the pain until later, but first I need to explain why I have kept this god-awful affliction quiet.
The problem with gout is that it makes people snigger. It’s hard to think of another serious condition that encourages such mirth, but it’s true, you get mocked. I vividly remember when this first happened to me, early on in my 16 long years of intermittent hell. I had to interview a celebrity, who should remain nameless – but won’t because it’s so annoying when people say that: it was Nigel Pivaro, Terry Duckworth from Coronation Street.
I limped into our meeting and naively told the truth about my condition, as my left foot throbbed inside a loosely-laced trainer. He laughed throatily, then lapsed into a pantomime skit of a bonkers, cheeky-puffing old General: “What-ho, Brigadier, have you been attacking that orful port at the club?” I’m all for heartless laddish banter, but I was a touch taken aback.
Nigel was not alone. That same week, I mentioned gout to one or two friends and they all reacted flippantly. As I cancelled golf, a mate started chuckling and cut away from the phone to yell this hilarious breaking news to his wife. Ha ha. It was clear that gout is for lightweights.
This early reaction made me feel embarrassed, so I decided to keep it private, except for those closest to me. Whenever I have had to venture out with obvious signs – crutches, or a severe limp are a giveaway – I have fudged the reason or reluctantly lied. Michael Barrymore was impressed I got crocked doing the Iron Man and my neighbours must think I’m more injury-prone than Frank Spencer.
To be fair, the jokes from friends have eased, but the disparaging ignorance of others is widespread. My most recent gout attack was last November. I told a friend – 35 and working in the shallows of showbiz – why I was really cancelling dinner. “Gout?” he replied, genuinely challenged. “I thought people got that in Victorian times, or during the plague”. It was time to break cover.
Gout has a PR problem. For starters, it’s such an odd, blunt word that actually sounds silly and light. It might help if it was re-branded to something longer and more medical. Things certainly aren’t helped when newspapers insist on using Henry VIII to illustrate every gout article. It is often described as the “disease of kings”, so mad Henry is our poster boy. Heck, even the current (edition of Tatler has gout in its 32 things that define what you need in 2019 to be upper class. Terribly funny.
The unavoidable reason why gout sufferers are ribbed is its age-old association with port-nosed boozers and gluttonous high living. Mea culpa – I’m pretty certain they’re the main reasons why I suffer, but it isn’t necessarily quite so simplistic. I have had four gout attacks brought on by strenuous exercise, such as football or long bike rides. Here comes the science bit. Concentrate…
Gout is inflammatory arthritis, the super-max kind with extra wincing on the side. It’s not the achy stuff that makes old folk grumble. It is caused when your blood is over-run with uric acid, which is generated when the body breaks down purines. Purines are a protein that is contained in a sweeping array of foods and certain lines of delicious alcohol – especially beer, red wine, and good ol’ port.
Uric acid settles around a joint and turns into urate crystals, which creates a gout attack. Trust me, it is horrendous. The big toe is the most famous location, but it also hits knees, elbows, even fingers. Ankles are popular. Gout particularly loves my left one.
Now for the pain: mine often begins suddenly across the top of a foot and panic sets in as it gradually spreads to the toes. Within five or six hours, the entire foot and ankle is transformed into a hot, bloated, pulsating red sausage of agony.
Traditionally, the fierce grip of gout finally arrives in the dead of night. My wife will hear me dragging a foot across the floorboards and mutter “Oh, nooo”, but she’s used to it. I was on crutches with gout when I proposed in Paris in 2006. Our celebratory ascent to Sacre-Coeur did wonders for my upper body definition. A year ago I dragged a gouty foot around Athens and a party-heavy New Year trip to New York in 2015 saw me convulsed in discomfort throughout the entire flight home. I thought my foot would explode. I needed the beeping golf cart transfer from the gate at Heathrow. Humiliating.
Forget sleeping with gout. You must lie there as motionless as possible, watching the dawn arrive with a foot dangling off the end of the bed to cool it down. Nothing must touch it. I mostly spend the first two days forcing the foot as often as I dare into a washing up bowl of icy water. It twitches as if hitting an electrical charge.
I have a set of crutches are on standby and if I’m lucky, this acute phase lasts 48 hours and then I can get around with a limp. All trace is gone within a week-10 days. The trouble is, at the same time you are also hit with flu-like symptoms and fever because your system is all mashed.
My gout nadir was in 2011 when it holidayed in my left knee. The entire joint ballooned. I couldn’t bend it, or put weight on it, and the slightest wrong movement left me hugging the kitchen island or a bannister, eyes closed, panting through gritted teeth. No pain killer was strong enough. I was on crutches for two weeks and unable to walk comfortably for close to two months. I finally emerged back onto my modest social scene to gushing praise for my leaner, detoxed glow. Gout boot camp. Don’t ever try it.
I have had 24 attacks since 2002, mostly in my ankles. I know all this because I have kept a gout diary – my contribution to “misery lit”. The first doctor to see me in A&E said with certainty that it was “cellulitis”. The next attack came three years later and again there was confusion with the diagnosis. Following five more attacks spread over the next number of years, my GP finally agreed with what I already knew.
A private consultant later explained that I have a genetic pre-disposition to gout that renders my kidneys unable to flush out uric aside fast enough. At times my body is like a cup of tea that cannot absorb any more teaspoons of sugar – except it’s acid. That metaphor cost me £250. Feel free to pass it on.
When you join the gout club, you get a watchlist of foods that have varying levels of purines. It is shockingly long. Red zone: offal, game, oily fish, seafood, yeast. Amber: all meat and poultry, spinach, asparagus, peas, beans, cauliflower, mushrooms, fizzy sweet drinks. It goes on and bloody on. You wonder what’s left. Salad, yoghurt, fruit, pasta, eggs and veg, that’s what. Super. Then it gets to the contraband that really matter, at least to me: beer and wine. And, of course, port, which I hate anyway. Spirits are fine, but I don’t drink those.
It’s all a bit depressing at first. You think you will never demolish a steak with a bottle of claret again, or a seafood platter served over ice in a sunny harbour. And how on earth can you pad up with your mates for a glorious day at Lord’s, the Home of All-Day Drinking. Alarm bells ring in your head just as things are getting merry. Anything north of three pints these days and I start to worry and stop. In the grand schemes of things, this is hardly the greatest burden, but the daft old ways of getting legless now take on a sinister reality, which can be a bore.
You soon learn to keep out of the red zone of food and alcohol except on rare occasions and staying dry for at least a few days a week is vital. Conversely, being hydrated (buckets of water) is essential. But there are plenty of upsides to all this and, bizarrely, gout has had a positive impact on my health.
My GP says that I am in decent shape for 53, so I should be OK in later life, when my hard-drinking pals will probably be dropping like addled flies. That said, gout has chewed arthritis into my left ankle, which means I’m unlikely to enjoy golf and tennis in my 80s. I’ll worry about that if I get that far.
These days, I get one attack a year, two if I’m desperately unlucky, or stupid. I reluctantly started taking the drug Allopurinol in 2010, after finally accepting that lifestyle change was simply not enough. Two little white 100mg pills a day helps neutralise the uric acid, but it is no panacea. I have tried endless supplements to reduce the acid, from sodium bicarbonate, to concentrated cherry juice, cranberries and Vitamin C. These days I just have a nip of apple cider vinegar each morning out of a tequila shot glass.
Medical research on gout seems to be sketchy and largely out of date, but all indicators suggest it is on the rise. Apparently, one in 40 people in the UK get it, mostly men. I find this extraordinary, especially given the amount of inveterate boozers I know, because I have yet to meet a fellow sufferer. Maybe they’re all keeping it secret. Hopefully, they won’t feel the need any longer.
As for the image of gout, I hope it can change. Maybe you can avoid the crass jokes. Simply say: “Ooh, you poor soldier. When you’re up and about let’s have a beer.” That little hope of a better day will ease the pain.
Copyright Rob McGibbon. Please do not use any of the above article or photos without proper permissions. 2019

This is an extended version of my interview published on 17 June 2017

“My unfulfilled ambition? I want to live until I am 120 and then get shot by a jealous husband”
The prized possession you value above all others…I would be lost without my whimsical mind and imagination, so they are incredibly precious. In terms of objects, I love my book collection. I have about 50,000, which includes countless editions on comedy, comedians, clowns and showbusiness. I am a performer at heart and these books feed my mind and soul. We are having an extension built to our house [he shares with his fiancée Anne Jones] in Knotty Ash, outside Liverpool, that will become my library. The books are symbols of my passion for entertainment.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend…I wish I had learnt more about the use of the English language, so I could write coherently like leading authors such as Charles Dickens and Mark Twain. I was very bright when I was a kid and I did well at school, but to write creatively is a great skill. I am a prolific note taker, but that’s about it. I have notebooks going back 20 years and I find it fascinating to read what I was thinking decades ago.
The temptation you wish you could resist…All kinds of sweets, especially Rowntree’s Fruit Pastilles. I always have a family-size packet on the go in the car. I’m up and down the motorway like a yoyo, so I eat far too many sweets. I also love ice cream – vanilla or strawberry.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…The Coral Island by R.M Ballantyne, which I read when I was about six. It’s about three boys shipwrecked on an island in the South Pacific and it took me off into another world. Like any boy I craved adventure and I wanted to be heroic like those boys. I was lucky because God blessed me with the ability to read from a very young age. I was four when I started consuming books.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…I’d go to the Office for National Statistics to verify how they work things out. One day they’re saying something is bad for you, then three weeks later they say it’s fine. I never know what to believe.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…Bullying driving on the motorways. I do about 30,000 miles a year – it used to be well over 100,000 – and I see some terrible, reckless driving. There’s always some daft Hooray Henry driving too close making you pull over. Motorways should be a safe and speedy way to travel, but some drivers make it dangerous.
The film you can watch time and time again…The Producers with Mel Brooks is beautifully acted and always makes me laugh. Brooks is a truly great humorist and one of the giants of comedy.
The person who has influenced you most…My parents – Arthur and Sarah. My dad was a very funny man who loved variety theatre. He would come home after a show and sing the songs or tell the jokes to me and my brother and sister. He made us laugh so much. My mother was also very special. She always said, “Kenny, I don’t care what you get upto, so long as you wear a clean shirt.” I have never forgotten that – and I always have a clean shirt.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…William Shakespeare. His plays are full of poetry and imagery, with words that are like little miracles. He gives such a wonderful insight into the world and the human spirit. I’d ask him if he really wrote them all.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…Always follow your dream. If you work hard and do everything with enthusiasm, it will come true. The secret of happiness is to plant a seed and watch it grow. Plant the seed of your dream and cultivate it.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…Philosophy. During the past couple of years, I have enjoyed reading the great philosophers. I have been trying to understand what “it” is all about, the meaning of life and such like.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…The ability to swim with confidence. I was terrified of water when I was kid and hated putting my head under water because it was too claustrophobic. I got over it with lessons in the 1980s, but now the fear has come back.
The unending quest that drives you on…To keep breathing and staying alive! I’m 89 now and I want to keep spreading a bit of happiness. My energy is good and I have no intention of slowing down.
The poem that touches your soul…I love the religious quote: ‘However black the clouds may be/In time they’ll pass away/Have faith and trust and you will see/God’s light make bright your day.’ I recited it for my first audition when I was young – before I was a teenager – and I have never forgotten it. I enjoy going to church every week and those words remind me to believe in God, the Lord and creator
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…I am very grateful that the British people treat me well and I don’t know of any preconceived ideas they may have that are wrong. I am often mistaken for George Clooney and a woman once came up to me and said, “Hello handsome – can you tell me the way to the opticians.”
The event that altered the course of your life and character…When my dad took all the family to my first show at the Shakespeare Theatre of Varieties in Liverpool when I was seven or eight. I sat there wide-eyed and I knew then that I wanted to be a performer. I was totally inspired.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…At my age, any thought of crime does not appeal. I might steal a kiss from a pretty girl, but that’s about it.
The song that means most to you…My song Happiness has become my signature tune and means a lot to me. I sing it at every show and I’ve done it thousands of times, but I still love it. I love life and that song is a celebration of being alive and enjoying all the wonderful things that life can bring.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…I have travelled all over the world in my time, but these days I prefer to be in Britain. East-West, Britain is best is my motto. So I’d be happy having a quiet morning at home. Our house was built in 1782 and I have spent most of my life there, so it’s where I’m happiest. I am a great tea drinker, so I’d have a few cups for breakfast with some Shredded Wheat. I’d then read the paper – Daily Mail, of course! – and try and find something funny to put into my show that night. Later, I’d take my black poodle Rufus for a walk. Britain has some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, so I would probably head somewhere in Yorkshire. Rufus is lively and affectionate and is about the seventh black poodle I have had over the years. I’d have soup – pea or oxtail are my favourites – for lunch, then spend a few hours looking through some rare books in the Bodleian Library at Oxford University. My life is ruled by my gigging diary and I am happy with that, so then I would get ready for a show. I would pack up the machine – a Mercedes – then head for the motorway. There are so many wonderful theatres across Britain, but my favourite venue is always the one I’m performing at that night. I feel blessed because I spend my life around happy people who are out for a night to have fun. I am completely in love with showbusiness, so I will enjoy myself playing a gig.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…Being made a knight in the Queen’s Honour List this year was a huge moment. It made me feel special and I am grateful to all the people who helped make it happen. Prince William gave it to me. Now I am getting measured up for some armour and I’m getting a horse.
The saddest time that shook your world…Losing my parents was hard. They were absolutely wonderful people who gave me the most fantastic childhood and so much good advice and support. Bereavement is very personal. It was a lonely time in my life, but my faith in God helped me through.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…I want to live until I am 120 and then get shot by a jealous husband.
The philosophy that underpins your life…The man who never made a mistake, never made anything. I tell this to young people who ask me about going into showbusiness. Never be afraid of making mistakes because that is how you learn. It is called experience.
The order of service at your funeral…You definitely won’t get me answering this one. No. No. No. I am to busy living to think of that.
The way you want to be remembered…He gave us happiness and laughter.
Sir Ken was born in Liverpool on 8th November 1927. Following being hospitalised for a chest infection, he died at his home in West London on 11th March 2018. He was 90.
RM says: Interviewing Ken for something as specific as The Definite Article was like trying to herd cats. He zipped around tangentially, or fenced away sensitive subjects with jokes. But he was fun and a gentleman. He called my mobile on the day it was published some weeks later and left a wonderfully nuts and appreciative voice message. Such manners in showbiz are rare. We spoke later and he invited me to one of his shows. I wish I had gone, but the dates never aligned. What a character, what a legend.
By Rob McGibbon
This is an extended version of my interview published on 27 June 2014
“I want my body laid out in my coffin on a bed of sliced truffles, then carried in by six beautiful women. I then want a big party in the foothills of Mont Blanc, where my ashes will be put into a huge firework rocket and fired into the sky”
The prized possession you value above all others…My home in South West London. I moved in eight years ago and I call it Il Castelluccio – The Little Castle. It’s a 1950s property, not overly big, but it is in a cul de sac so it is very quiet. My garden is full of fruit. I have prunes, pears, quinces, and plums. The house is probably worth over £1m, but I do not care about such things. I live here alone and this is where I find peace and silence. It is my sanctuary.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend…That I no longer have any communication with my ex-wife Priscilla and her children and grandchildren. They were my stepchildren and such a happy part of my life for so long, but something has happened and I cannot explain what. It is hard for me to understand. My philosophy in life is never to hurt anyone, but something has happened and it makes me sad.
The temptation you wish you could resist…Asking so many questions about everything! I believe that man’s ability for knowledge is infinite, so I am always curious to learn more. But sometimes maybe it is better to not have an answer and to enjoy a bit of mystery.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy. They are such fascinating books that work on so many levels – for young people, as well as adults. They are incredibly complex and challenging to follow, but I love the fantasy and losing myself in the stories.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…I would follow a traffic warden around London and cause chaos as he or she gives out tickets. I’d like to find out what goes on inside the head of a traffic warden because it seems to be the most nonsensical occupation. I cannot understand why anyone would want to do it.
The pet-hate that makes your hackles rise…Ignorant people who have no appreciation of the world or their fellow humans. I have to take a deep breath when I came across ignorance because it makes me so angry.
The film you can watch time and time again…Il Postino is the most beautiful and touching film and it always moves me. The acting is wonderful and the story takes me back to happy times in my childhood in Northern Italy when my father was the local railway stationmaster.
The person who has influenced you most…My mother, Maria. Throughout my childhood she was so full of life. She was tender, but also very strong and always ready to defend her nest of six children. My mother gave me my values and taught me a lot about cooking. She died about 20 years ago and there are only three of us children left now.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…The great actor Peter Ustinov. I met him briefly at a party in the 1990s and he was such an interesting, intelligent man with a great sense of humour and he was an incredible mimic. He had an amazing life. I’d love to go back to the early 1950s when he was playing Nero in Quo Vadis [released in 1951]. I loved him in that film. He could speak many languages and I can speak five, so we might have fun chatting in multiple languages.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…Think big and don’t be disappointed if things don’t go as you plan. Just try again. Everything in life is possible. I came from small beginnings and have fulfilled many dreams.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…One of my great passions is whittling – making walking sticks. I started when I was a boy and I now have about 300 in my collection. I am even a member of the British Stickemakers Guild. I find it relaxing and satisfying to create a beautiful object with my hands and the small old knife I always use. I love the feeling of the wood and I particularly like to work with hazel because it is so straight. Another passion is searching for mushrooms. I go into the woods, with one of my favourite walking sticks, and find the most delicious mushrooms to eat.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…A four-inch high bronze statue of a little girl holding lilies, which was given to me when I was about 18. She was like a little angel and I loved that piece, but it was stolen during a house move about forty years ago. Even though it’s so long ago, I still miss her!
The unending quest that drives you on…To totally understand food, but I think it’s an impossible quest. I also wish I could cook Chinese food. It has the most incredible spices and flavours, but I can’t do it. My friend Ken Hom is pretty good and he has taught me a bit, but I believe it has to be in your blood to do it properly.
The poem that touches your soul…I Love You So Much by the German writer and painter Joachim Ringelnatz. I lived in Vienna for three years in my 20s and I met a girl called Inge there. She was my first true love and that poem reminds me of her. All this time later, I still think of her!
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…That I am grumpy and aggressive. My face is not entirely sympathetic and some people think I look like a Mafioso! In reality, I am a jolly and gentle person. People often meet me expecting me to be rough and they say they are happily surprised to see that I am friendly.
The event that altered the course of your life and character…The death of my little brother Enrico when he was 13 and I was 23. He drowned in a lake near our home. He got cramps after swimming so soon after eating. It was devastating for all the family. My mother never recovered and, in many ways, I don’t think I have ever got over it either. I ended up leaving home to escape the grief and it has affected me since on so many levels. It made me question the motivations of the Catholic Church, as well as the existence of God, so I have stopped believing in both.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…I would organise a spectacular robbery of the secret treasures from the Vatican, then give the proceeds to the poor.
The song that means most to you…I Would Like to Kiss You. It’s an old Neapolitan song, which was recorded by Pavarotti, Bocelli and many others, but I remember it from when I was really little and my father Giovanni singing it to my mother. He was an old romantic.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…My day would begin quietly in my garden listening to the birds. I would have some porridge and coffee then some fruit from my trees. Then I would meet up with my girlfriend Sabine and go on an adventure deep into the Amazon rainforest to meet a tribe that is lost to civilisation. I only hope they are a friendly tribe! Later I would go for a walk in my favourite woodlands in Hampshire to pick mushrooms. I cannot tell you exactly where because mushroom pickers like to keep their best locations secret! Sabine and I would spend the afternoon on a stunning island in the Caribbean. I would soak up the sun and go snorkelling to look at turtles. Lunch would be a big salad with fresh fish and tomatoes dipped in the salt water of the crystal clear sea. Delicious! After lunch I would relax in a hammock with a big Havana cigar, then have an afternoon nap. Then I would go to a small fishing village beside the Back Sea and eat my way through a kilo of Beluga caviar. Then I would watch penguins bringing fish home to their young off the coast of Australia, which is an incredible sight. Sabine and I would watch the sun go down during a safari in Africa, then arrive at a tranquil lake in Kerala in India for a spicy dinner. I don’t drink much alcohol, but I would end this day with a nice malt whisky nightcap.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…The day in 2009 when I finally awoke from depression. I had been in a dark and difficult place and I had tried to kill myself [Antonio stabbed himself in 2008], but after going into The Priory hospital I slowly got better and the heavy cloud lifted from my life. I am a different person today. I am happy and I know how precious life is. I want to live, not die.
The saddest time that shook your world…Enrico’s death. I was like a father to him and his educator. He was so cheerful and wonderful. He followed me around and we had a really special friendship. I would practise throwing a javelin and he would run after it and bring it back to me. He would be 67 now. Sadly, that awful moment I saw him in the mortuary is an image that will never leave my mind.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…To organise all the photos from my life. I must have more than 10,000 but they are all over the place, in boxes and drawers. I would love to be able to sit down and look at them in the order they were taken. I thought that was something I would do in my retirement but I am 77 now and I have no plans to retire. Maybe it will never be done!
The philosophy that underpins your life…MOF MOF: Minimum of Fuss, Maximum of Flavour. I made that phrase up decades ago when everything in cooking seemed to be so complicated. It has been the mantra for my cooking ever since.
The order of service at your funeral…I won’t have a church service because I have stopped believing in God, but I want my body laid out in my coffin on a bed of sliced truffles, then carried into the crematorium by six beautiful women. I then want a big party in the foothills of Mont Blanc in Italy, where my ashes will be put into a huge firework rocket. During the party, this rocket will explode high in the sky and scatter me across the beautiful countryside.
The way you want to be remembered…As a jolly fellow, who was good to people and enjoyed the simple things in life.
Antonio was born in Salerno, Italy, on 19 April 1937. He died following a fall at his home in West London on 8th November 2017. He was 80.
Antonio was a big-hearted, passionate and sincere man, who inspired so many young chefs, not least Jamie Oliver.

This is an extended version of my interview published on 26 September 2015, which was conducted in Michael’s study where he wrote at his home in Little Venice on 24th August
“I want to be remembered as a friendly person who was ready to listen. And for never missing a deadline!”
The prized possession you value above all others…The original Paddington bear toy. He is a little teddy bear that I bought for my ex-wife Brenda from Selfridge’s on Christmas Eve in 1956 as a stocking-filler present. He was sitting on a shelf all by himself and I fell in love with him. I called him Paddington and some time later I was looking at him and wondered what would happen if a real bear arrived at Paddington Station. I put a few words down on paper and it caught my fancy. That little bear was an inspiration and he changed my life. I keep him very safe.




The biggest regret you wish you could amend…Not buying a flat in the Montmartre area of Paris that I rented for 35 years. I was offered it about ten years ago, but decided to keep renting. I used to go there for a week every month to write and always loved it because no one bothered me. But last year the daughter of the original owners, who had died, decided to move in.
The temptation you wish you could resist…Ferrero Rocher chocolates. I love the nutty soft centre and I like to have a box on the go when I am writing. I will eat four, then make myself stop. They are very moreish.

The book that holds an everlasting resonance…It’s not a book, but a weekly magazine called I used to read it by torchlight under the bedclothes from aged about nine and it had a big impact on my life. They were such marvellous stories and great characters. It was the first time that I appreciated good story telling and it taught me the power of repetition in writing.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…I would wander around freely listening in on people’s conversations. A piece of snatched conversation can be very good for a story and it has helped me often over the years. But it is never good to be caught eavesdropping, so this way I could relax.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…Cold telephone calls in the evening from people trying to sell me something. They are often a foreign voice and they start off by saying, “Good evening, Mr Bond, how are you tonight?” I would be much better if you didn’t call me during my dinner!
The film you can watch time and time again…The Third Man. The screenplay by Graham Greene is excellent and Orson Wells is wonderful. You never know when someone is going to pop out of a window or a manhole. I love the Ferris wheel scene.


The person who has influenced you most…My grandfather, on mother’s side. He came to live with us in Reading when I was a boy after his wife died. He thought very highly of me – more than anybody else! I would wait at the window when he was due home from work and run down the road to meet him as soon as I saw him. He gave me confidence in myself. He drummed into me that you can do anything in life, if you concentrate and do it to the exclusion of anything else. I took his advice when I came to write. I gave up all sorts of things and let it take over.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…John Logie Baird, the man who invented the television. I would love to watch a modern day TV set with him and discuss what has happened to his invention. Imagine what he might think.

The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…Politeness costs nothing, but it can be worth an awful lot. Politeness has been thrown out the window these days. When I was small, if any elderly people came along my dad and I would move to one side, raise our hats and let them pass. I used to think, Oh good, people will do that when I am old, but they don’t. I have a walking stick, but it feels like I need it more as weapon!
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…Bricklaying. Like Winston Churchill, I have always found it to be mentally restorative in times of stress. It is satisfying and sets the mind free.

The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…A little toy dog my girlfriend Nora gave me when I joined the RAF aged 17. She had made it from wire and fur and I carried it around in my breast pocket for four years. It went everywhere, but one day in Cairo I sent some clothes to the laundry without taking it out and it was gone for good. I was so sad.
The unending quest that drives you on…To keep writing. I will be 90 next January but I still write every day and I hope that Paddington and my other characters will have plenty more adventures.
The poem that touches your soul…I am not very good on poems, but the French National Anthem La Marseillaise always stirs me. I am quite a Francophile at heart.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…That writing is easy. People particularly think this of me because the Paddington books are quite short. I actually hone them down from a much longer text and re-write continuously. It is hard work, but immensely satisfying.
The event that altered the course of your life and character…Replying to an advert in the local Reading newspaper when I was 16, which was seeking someone interested in radio. I was keen on building radio sets, so I wrote off and to my amazement I got a reply from the BBC. They were setting up a transmitter in Reading and wanted someone to look after it. I met the man in charge who asked me if I knew what Ohms Law was. I told him and then he said, You have got the job! This eventually led to me working as a senior cameraman for BBC television, a job that I loved.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…There is always a cost to pay for the smallest crime, so nothing could tempt me. When I was ten I took a half-eaten chocolate bar off the counter of my local shop and ate it. To this day, stealing it has been on my conscience!
The song that means most to you…All or Nothing at All, by Frank Sinatra. Nora bought me a vinyl disc of it because it was our favourite song and I kept it for years. That song reminds me of her.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…I wouldn’t want an action-packed day with a magic carpet taking me to all different places. At my age, you are happy to go at a slower pace. I would simply board the first Eurostar to Paris with my wife Sue and go straight back to my old flat. My last day there was 4th December 2014, which was one of the saddest days of my life. I miss it dreadfully, but on this day it would be MINE! There would be no emails, no phone calls – and no visitors! I would spend the day reliving my life as I gaze out of the window with its vista over northern Paris. I would be happy going for lunch at my favourite fish restaurant – Le Dôme in Montparnasse. I would have the lobster salad, which his rated the best in the world, followed by tarte fine aux pommes. After that I would be happy to be back in the flat, reading and writing and looking out on Paris.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…The day my young daughter, Karen, was made better. She was born with a dislocated hip and was in and out of hospitals having operations for her first six years. One surgeon really buggered it up and made it worse. Then a very good surgeon in Oxford put it right and she made a full recovery. It was such a relief.
The saddest time that shook your world…The death of my grandfather when I was 13. He died from a heart attack and it was the first time I had experienced a death in the family. He was a particularly nice person to me.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…To have a lawn with a surface like a billiard table. The previous owner of our home in North London filled in the garden with lots of old bricks. We have lived here for 30 years and it has been a losing battle trying to lay a nice lawn. Bricks and holes always appear, or the foxes dig it up.
The philosophy that underpins your life…Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. In life, it is important to treat people well.
The order of service at your funeral…I will leave the details to my family and do as I have always done – which is to go where I am pointed!



The way you want to be remembered…As a friendly person, who was approachable and ready to listen. And for never missing a deadline!
Michael Bond, born on 13th January 1926, died on 27th June 2017 at home in London following a short illness. He was 91.
He was a modest, kind and gentle man. He will live on through his wonderful gift to us all: Paddington Bear.
By Rob McGibbon
Published 8 August 2014. Interview conducted a few weeks earlier
People think I am cleverer than I really am because of the Inspector Morse plots. I know a lot, but I’m definitely not as smart as Morse”
The prized possession you value above all others…
A signed first edition from 1896 of A.E Housman’s A Shropshire Lad – his cycle of 63 poems. I bought it in 1966 for £600 and it is probably worth at least £4,000 now. I started collecting first editions when I was 17 and have about 75 now, but that is the book I’d rescue if the house was burning down. I love his work.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend…
Having four operations on my ears during my 20s to cure deafness. I first started losing my hearing when I was 18, but the operations didn’t help and I wish I hadn’t put any faith in them. They caused me a lot of pain and I’d wake in the mornings with blood on the pillow. My life has been smitten by deafness, which ran in my family, and has caused me a great deal of anxiety. I would sit at dinner parties and tell people, “Don’t worry about me, talk amongst yourselves,” and I’d never hear a word of the conversation. I can only hear now with the help of hearing aids.
The temptation you wish you could resist…
Biscuits – especially Ginger Nuts. I was diagnosed with diabetes in my 40s, so I have had to watch what sweet things I eat ever since. I still find it hard to resist biscuits and I’m always getting told off for eating them by my wife Dorothy [83].
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…
Bleak House by Charles Dickens is the greatest novel in the English language. I have read it three times and its plot and characters always strike me a Masterclass in writing. It really is marvellous.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…
I would be intrigued to see what life is like for the Queen and Prince Phillip when they are in private at Buckingham Palace. I have heard that they enjoyed watching Morse for years – maybe they watch Endeavour now! It would be fun to know.
The pet-hate that makes your hackles rise…
Litter. I’m 84 now and I’m in a wheelchair, but each day Dorothy, or a kind lady who helps us, takes me for a walk along the Banbury Road in Oxford. We always pick up any litter and by the time we get home the bag is full. I find it disgusting how people litter our streets. What are they thinking?
The film you can watch time and time again…
The African Queen starring Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn. It is directly brilliantly by John Huston, but above all I love the interaction between Bogart a Hepburn. It has such tension and chemistry.
The person who has influenced you most…
My brother John. He was 18 months older than me and we were very close. Our family was so hard up that we had to share a bed for 19 years. One night, when I was about 16, he woke me up by playing Beethoven’s 7th Symphony loudly on the wireless. I told him to turn it off, but he had tears rolling down his face. I was intrigued that music could have that much power and began listening. That night, John opened the door to classical music, which has been one of the great joys in my life. Later, he began to teach me about Wagner, who is my favourite composer. Sadly, John died two years ago.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…
Richard III. I would love to know what really happened to the Princes in the Tower [Prince Edward and Richard, the sons of Edward IV, were imprisoned in the Tower of London by Richard III and later disappeared. Many suspect they were murdered upon his orders]. I studied the case in my teens and came to the conclusion it was not him, but he would have known what really happened. I’d also like to know where he would want to be buried now that his skeleton has been found. My vote would be for Leicester because he was originally from there!
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…
I’m not sure I have much wisdom to pass on! I loved teaching Classics, Latin and Greek from 1952 to 1966 and I always told my pupils to speak up and ask a question if they didn’t understand something. Asking questions is vital. That’s how you learn.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…
I have been fascinated by Greek mythology all my life and I loved reading Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey. The trouble is I have forgotten much of it now – not least the names of Zeus’ 117 daughters.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…
The ability to follow to The Archers! I loved that programme for 56 years, but I finally gave up soon after the 60th anniversary. I could hear it OK with my hearing aids, but by then I could no longer distinguish between the female characters because they all talk too quickly and sound too similar. I lost the thread as to what was going on. It is such a shame because I really do miss it.
The unending quest that drives you on…
Throughout my writing career I always strived to write the best page I could. If it wasn’t good enough, I’d start again. That still applies today if I am writing a short story, but I don’t do much writing these days.
The poem that touches your soul…
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray from 1751. I learnt it by heart when I was 14 and I still know it well. It is so wonderfully lyrical that it feels like music when you read it. It is beautiful.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…
That I am cleverer than I really am! The Inspector Morse plots made people believe that I must be very smart. I do know a lot, but not that much! And I certainly don’t know as much about opera as I could. I’m definitely not as smart as Morse.
The event that altered the course of your life and character…
Getting my first book called Liberal Studies published by in 1964. It was an academic book and I was thrilled when the publisher liked it so much he said they didn’t want to change a comma! The Morse books began with Last Bus to Woodstock in 1975, but that first book put me on the road to my writing career.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…
I would steal Vermeer’s painting The Milkmaid from the Rijksmuseum museum in Amsterdam. I love the colouration and light in that picture. I have admired it so much over the years that I put a print of it above the fireplace in Morse’s home.
The song that means most to you…
Something by The Beatles. They were the greatest when it came to words and music. It is such a beautiful song and so romantic. It reminds me of my daughter Sally because it was her favourite when she was young.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…
It would help to enjoy this day if I were a few years younger – so let’s say I am 50! I’d begin with a nice bowl of porridge in a comfortable hotel in the mountains of Austria, with the ringing of bells from pretty churches filling the air. After that, Dorothy – who’s a Welsh girl – and I would go for a brisk walk in the hills of mid-Wales and stop off in Machynlleth for tea. We used to love visiting there in years gone by. Then we would go for a nice drive through Florida to Fort Lauderdale to get some sun. Later, I’d have fish and chips with mushy peas for lunch at The Trout Inn by the river in Oxfordshire, where we’d be joined by Sally and our son Jeremy and his children – Thomas, 24, and James, 22. I used to love a pint of ale and any type of whiskey, but doctors warned me to give up alcohol 15 years ago, or else I wouldn’t live to old age, so I’d just have a glass of Robinsons Lemon Barley Water. After lunch, I’d a paddle in the sea at Skegness for old time’s sake. I loved going there as a boy and I remember the advertising poster said, “Skegness – it’s so bracing!” They should have written “bloody cold” – but we loved it so much. I’d then watch England beat Australia in the final overs of The Ashes series at The Oval. I would finish the day in Germany at the Bayreuth Festival in Bavaria listening to a performance of Die Walküre, which is my favourite opera in Wagner’s Ring Cycle.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…
When I was given the Freedom of the City of Oxford in 2001. At the time, the only other living recipients were Nelson Mandela and Aung San Suu Kyi. Oxford has meant a great deal to me and this was a wonderful honour. However, I have never exercised my right to drive a flock of sheep or cows across Magdalen Bridge.
The saddest time that shook your world…
When my daughter’s King Charles Cavalier dog died. He was called Mycroft and was very poorly, so I had to call the vet over to the house. I remember it looking at me from the kitchen table as the vet prepared the needle with such deep sadness in his eyes. I have never forgotten that look. I felt like the executioner. I had to hold him as the vet gave the injection and I could hear my daughter, who was 13, weeping in the next room. It was one of the few times in my life that I have really wept.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…
To be World Chess Champion. I was pretty good when I was at school and that was my big dream, but in truth I was never good enough.
The philosophy that underpins your life…
It comes from the Latin phrase initium est dimidium facti, which means “Once you’ve started, you’re halfway there”, or “The beginning is half of the deed”. I have always found that the beginning is the hardest part of anything, but once that is done, I am off and away. The rest is about getting your head down and doing the bloody work.
The order of service at your funeral…
I would be happy with a simple affair without too many tears, as long as they played the hymn O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go, which is sublime. I do not believe in the Afterlife. I’m with Socrates, who spoke of it as being like a dreamless sleep. I’d rather be burnt than buried and for all I care you can put the ashes in the dustbin.
The way you want to be remembered…
As a good teacher. I got more pleasure from teaching than any other job in my life.
Colin Dexter was a modest, fun and gentle man to interview. He died aged 86 peacefully at home in Oxford on 21 March 2017
By Rob McGibbon
Published on 3rd October 2014
My philosophy for life? KISS A TIT! It’s an acronym I made up in my 40s to help me focus on my work. It stands for: ‘Keep It Simple, Stupid, And Think It Through.’ It can be applied positively to just about anything in life.”
The prized possession you value above all others…
Two steel bowls from a vintage magic trick called The Rice Bowls. They were made for the British magician Robert Harbin in the 1940s and were a present from the Irish magician Quentin Reynolds, as a thank you for helping him out early in his career. I advised him on how to look after the business side of magic and he was very grateful. The trick itself is probably worth about £2,000, but it is incredibly rare and it was a very thoughtful present. I keep it on display in a cabinet.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend…
Wasting so much money on flash cars in the 1980s and 90s. I started off with a Citroen Maserati, then a Ferrari, followed by a couple of Bentleys. I threw away hundreds of thousands of pounds in what I call a “Clarkson-syndrome”. No matter what you spend on a car, it’s still no more than a metal box with wheels. I also spent a fortune filling those things with petrol. These days, I have a 10-year-old Mercedes E Class Estate, which is a fine workhorse, and an Isuzu Trooper for pulling my boat.
The temptation you wish you could resist…
I try not to resist anything – what’s the point! But I do wish I didn’t check my Twitter and Facebook accounts every morning because I spend at least an hour responding to messages and comments when I should get on with work. It’s a big distraction, but I enjoy the interaction with people.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…
Greater Magic by John Northern Hilliard. I came across it in my 20s, but I only really understood it properly years later. It covers the full gamut of magic tricks, but it also deals with big subjects, not least the meaning of life and how magic fits into it all. The Prologue and Epilogue are brilliant and full of wisdom.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…
The American magician Mac King is a great friend who does a very funny skit in his Las Vegas show when he pretends to be invisible. I’d love to freak him out by being a real invisible man during that. That would be hilarious.
The pet-hate that makes your hackles rise…
My own untidiness. Every day I promise to turn over a new leaf and start putting things back in the right place, but of course I don’t. This means that Debbie [his wife, Debbie McGee] and our housekeeper always put things away, which I then struggle to find. It’s all basically my fault.
The film you can watch time and time again…
The Wizard of Oz. My dad Hughie was the projectionist and then the manager of our local cinema [in South Bank, near Middlesbrough]. I was about nine when I watched the film there and I remember being amazed as the screen turned from black and white to colour. I can still see that transformation in my mind today. Judy Garland’s voice is wonderful and it is, for me, the most beautiful movie ever made.
The person who has influenced you most…
My dad influenced me in every way. He was a lovely man, whom everybody liked. He was short, stocky and very strong and was so practical that he could do everything, from mend cars, to do the electrics in the house. We would sit down and invent things together. He was incredibly knowledgeable and he inspired me to want to know about things.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…
I’d like to sit down with Stalin and ask him why he murdered all those people. I simply want to understand what he thought gave him the right?
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…
Read as much as you can, about as much you can. And always question everything you read.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…
I’m in interested in everything! But I am particularly fascinated by the human memory system. I have studied it to the extent that I am now paid to coach people how to remember things.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…
The tip of the ring finger on my left hand, which I cut off when I was working with a circular saw on New Year’s Day 2012. The top phalange – as it is known – has completely gone. I had to re-train myself to do card tricks. I am fine now, but every object I touch with that finger still feels like they have a hole in them. The brain still thinks it has a fingertip there, which is a strange sensation. The surgeon pulled over the loose bit of flesh that was left to create a pad at the tip. Astonishingly, that has now started creating a new fingerprint!
The unending quest that drives you on…
The pursuit of new knowledge. I already have a good general knowledge, but I love learning, so I won’t ever stop. They say that nobody likes a know-all, which is probably why Debbie refuses to watch Eggheads with me!
The poem that touches your soul…
None! I don’t read poetry, although I have always been tickled by Ogden Nash’s work because of it silliness and clever play on words.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…
That I am not 6ft 2in! For some reason, everyone, except me, thinks that I am 5ft 6in. Seriously, it is annoying that people think I perform the same on stage as I did on television. TV is a 5th rate entertainment medium because it goes through so many layers of control before it reaches the viewer – like the producer, the director, the cameraman etc. My live performances are way funnier and more entertaining than the TV shows. I’ve had people come up to me after my shows and say, “I couldn’t stand you on telly, but that was great!”
The event that altered the course of your life and character…
Reading about the Age Cards prediction magic trick when I was 11. I was trapped in a house on holiday in Yorkshire with it raining outside when I came across a Victorian book with instructions on how to do that trick. I sat down and learnt it, then did it on a few people. It was very exciting and it opened up the whole world of magic to me and changed the entire course of my life.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…
I would wipe out the people who make decisions NOT to dredge our rivers – preferably by drowning! All this flooding we have had – including our house in Berkshire – is because their bad decisions have made our rivers a lot shallower.
The song that means most to you…
Zadok The Priest, which is one of Handel’s Coronation Anthems. It was played at the end our wedding celebrations in 1988 as we fired off thousands of pounds worth of fireworks. It was a special day and that music always takes me back.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…
A perfect day would be spent with all my family. My three sons – Gary, Paul and Martin – are spread over the country, so we are seldom all together at one time. So, I’d start the day with the boys and my grandchildren – Martin’s kids Lewis, 15, and Camilla, 12 – with a big breakfast at the Magic Castle Hotel in Hollywood, which is so much fun. Then we’d head to Disneyland. I love the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, so that’s a must. Then we’d go to Knott’s Berry Farm theme park, also in California, which has loads of rides and a Wild West theme. Lunch would be in a Red Lobster restaurant in LA, then we’d head north to Universal Studios. I love all things to do with movies, which harks back to my dad running a cinema. I’d stop off in the Psycho House. I’d pop back to London for my favourite snack – double eggs and chips with white bread and butter – at the Windows Restaurant at the top of the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane. I asked for it there once, even though it was not on the menu, and they were very understanding! In the evening, Debbie and I would check into The Venetian hotel in Las Vegas then go and see two spectacular shows – O by Cirque du Soleil and Mac King’s magic show. After all that, we would relax at La Chevre d’Or hotel in Eze, high up in the hills in the South of France. I rarely drink, but I’d have a glass of Sancerre on the terrace and watch the lights of the boats sparkling far off on the Mediterranean until late into the night.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…
Pulling off a particularly difficult gig in the early 1990s in Brussels. It was a charity event to raise money for cancer but the audience was super rich bankers and European aristocracy – people not best known for being able to “belly laugh”, as we call it in Yorkshire. It was the toughest audience you can imagine, but not long into the gig I could see people crying with laughter. I really had got ’em and it felt very satisfying. Doing great shows is what drives me on. I love making people happy.
The saddest time that shook your world…
The day my father died 20 years ago when he was 73. He had suffered a series of strokes and died in hospital. I was with him when he went. I felt like I had lost my mate and it hit me really hard. I still miss him, even now, but I talk to him all the time. I will be in my workshop struggling to make something and I’ll say, “Come on now, Dad, how do I this?” And he’ll help me in some way or other.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…
To be in a movie would be great fun. A comedy would be ideal, but I’m up for any role.
The philosophy that underpins your life…
“KISS A TIT!” It’s an acronym I made up in my 40s to help me focus on my work. It stands for: Keep It Simple Stupid And Think It Through”. It can be applied positively to just about anything in life.
The order of service at your funeral…
It will be a non-religious event because I’m not a ‘believer.’ If they’ll allow it, I’d like a service at the Prince of Wales Theatre in the West End, with a few friends getting up to tell a load of lies about how much they loved me, followed by a little party at our house on The Thames. This would end with a fireworks display and my ashes exploding from inside a rocket fired over the river.
The way you want to be remembered…
As the only man who lived to see the end of the DFS Sale!
Paul Daniels died aged 77 from a brain tumour on 17 March 2016
By Rob McGibbon
Published on 1st September 2012
I have never been one for ambitions or seeking things out. Life has just happened for me. I have just been incredibly lucky”
The prized possession you value above all others…
A beautifully inscribed piece of paper signed by the Queen conferring a knighthood on me in 2005. It was an enormous honour and is hanging in a prominent position in my study.
The unqualified regret you wish you could amend…
I have been too lucky in life to have any regrets. It really has been charmed, so it would be invidious of me to say I wish something had been different. Besides, I am an optimist, with a reasonably sunny nature, and I believe that regrets are futile. Things go wrong in every life, but you must move on.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions…
I would begin with a breakfast of fresh mango on a boat in the Andaman Sea off Thailand with my wife Helen, followed by a stroll on the beach at the Banyan Tree hotel in the Seychelles. Our three children and five grandchildren – the whole cotton-pickin’ lot of them – would then join us for a fun al fresco lunch at Club 55 in St Tropez. After that we’d all head to Crane Beach in Barbados where I would attempt to body surf, but probably drown. I’d then have a cup of tea in a boat beside the Fastnet Rock off Cork in Ireland, followed by cocktails at the Borgo Santo Pietro hotel in Tuscany. Helen and I would have a candlelit dinner in a garden in Marrakech and I’d end the day with a large Armagnac on the terrace of our holiday home in Gascony, South West France. As you can see, my perfect day is geared around regular intakes of food and drink!
The temptation you wish you could resist…
Trying to do everything at once. I am not much good at preparing and I like to do things quickly, so I tend to do at least two things at the same time. My whole professional career has been built on no preparation.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance…
The Catcher in the Rye. I read it when I was 17 and it was the archetypal book for your late teens that spoke to my generation.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day…
I always longed to be invisible around exam time so I could get an early peak the questions. But the general thought of being invisible doesn’t appeal to me now because I would see things I’d be better off not seeing!
The pet-hate that makes your hackles rise…
Hatred in all its forms. It is futile and worthless and causes all the ills in society. Hate ends in nothing but tragedy.
The film you can watch time and time again…
High Society. There’s never been a cast like it – Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Grace Kelly – and the music of Cole Porter. I’m a great fan of musicals and this one never fails to lift me.
The person who has influenced you most…
It has to be Helen. We have been married for 47 years and not only has she given me the greatest thing imaginable – my family – she has also made me a better person. She is kind, loyal and gentle, and I have to live up to that, rather than think of myself. She’s also a bloody good cook!
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint…
I’d never buy a pie and a pint for anyone because it’s a recipe for indigestion! I’d like to have a chat with the ancient Greek warrior Alexander the Great and ask him what drove him on. He is the antithesis of me. I’m lazy by nature and can’t understand why he didn’t just stay in Macedonia and enjoy himself, instead of conquering all those countries.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child…
That’s easy – be kind. Kindness is the most important thing in life, but sadly there is not enough of it in the world.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…
I have a keen interest in birds. To say I’m a twitcher would be going to far, but I am fond of sitting in the garden looking at the parakeets or red kites. The beauty of birdsong in the morning is something to behold.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…
I don’t recall mislaying anything, but when you get to my age – I’m 73 – possessions are less important. I am more concerned about losing my marbles and my memory. I am forever putting my glass down in the evening, then saying, Who’s taken my drink?!
The unending quest that drives you on…
I have never been one for ambitions or seeking things out. Life has just happened for me. I have never been driven. I have just been incredibly lucky.
The poem that touches your soul…
I am a great lover of poetry, particularly the First World War poets. Wilfred Owen is my favourite and his Dulce et Decorum Est is very powerful. It is a testament to the false gods of nationalism and the futility of war.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase…
That I have more brains than I actually have! I seem to be credited with intelligence way beyond the reality. I am in a privileged position, so people think I have the answers, but it is important to always have humility and be aware of your limitations.
The event that altered the course of your life and character…
In 1967 I sent a tape of a radio programme I did in Ireland to Mark White, the assistant head of the BBC’s gramophone department. He wrote back and offered me a slot on Midday Spin, which I did down the line from Dublin. I was astonished to get a reply, let alone a job. I had always wanted to work for the BBC and everything grew from there. It was the changing point of my life. It wouldn’t happen nowadays because no one at the BBC would listen to an unsolicited tape.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…
Crime is not something that we should encourage. I am too bourgeois and law abiding to want to do a crime. I wouldn’t even rob a bank because I worked in one for four years, so it wouldn’t feel right!
The song that means most to you…
Stardust by Nat King Cole with the arrangement by George Jenkins is a masterpiece. Like all great music, it speaks to your heart. That song brings back romantic memories, but I’m not telling you what they are!
The happiest moment you will cherish forever…
It’s hard to single out one happy moment because I have been happy through most of my life. But it was incredible when I sunk the longest televised putt in history at Gleneagles in 1981 during one of Peter Alice’s Pro-Celebrity Golf games. I was playing with Fuzzy Zoeller against Lee Trevino and Trevor Brooking when I holed out on the 18th to win the match. Perhaps it will be the only thing I am remembered for.
The saddest time that shook your world…
When our daughter Vanessa died from heart complications a few weeks after she was born in 1966. They were terrible days, but I don’t like to dwell on it, or say too much publicly. You deal with tragedy as best you can. Life has to go on.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…
To have played rugby for Ireland. My left knee was injured badly when I was younger, not that I would have been good enough to make it. I was walking around with a duff knee for fifty years, until I got it replaced two years ago.
The philosophy that underpins your life…
I believe in stoicism. Life happens and we cannot control it. Accept whatever it brings.
The order of service at your funeral…
I’m not gone yet! Give me another 10 years and I might start thinking about it, but I haven’t got a gravestone marked, or told anyone what I want because I am not ready to go. I am not religious, but I would expect to have a service at our local church and be buried in England, not Ireland, because this is where my family is. I would want a party afterwards where everyone will say, “Well, that’s the end of him, let’s have a drink!” Death doesn’t scare me. There’s a lovely song called When You Are Old, which has the lyric: ‘When you are old and full of sleep/And death no longer makes you weep’. I’m stoic about it all.
The way you want to be remembered…
With affection. For people to have liked you is about all you can hope for.
Sir Terry Wogan died aged 77 from cancer on 31st January 2016.
Flashback with Mick Hucknall – The Writer’s Cut
Mick Hucknall remembers writing songs with Motown legend Lamont Dozier, 1986…
“That Paul Smith suit was the first time I had anything made for me bespoke. I’ve still got it and I can get into it – just!”
This is me with Lamont Dozier, one of the greatest legends in pop music. He wrote and produced [with Brian and Eddie Holland] some of the biggest hits of the Motown era in the Sixties and way beyond. He worked with The Supremes, Marvin Gaye, The Four Tops and many others and I’ve lost track of how many hits he’s had [14 No.1s in America alone]. I went to his home in Los Angeles in late 1986 for a songwriting session. I was 26 at the time and Simply Red had recently really taken off. Our first album Picture Book was already a hit and Holding Back The Years had gone to No.2 in the UK and No.1 in America a few months earlier. My life had changed dramatically, so it was an incredibly exciting time, but there was also a lot of pressure because the record company wanted a second album as fast as possible.
There was a big rush on, but there wasn’t anyone else in the band who could write to my standard, so the responsibility fell to me. It was a major burden, which was made worse because we were touring the whole time. I have always liked writing at home in my own time, so it was tough to suddenly write on the road, in hotels or on planes, when everything was always so hectic.
My manager thought it was a good idea for me to work with another songwriter to broaden my horizons, so I was put together with Lamont. I have been a Motown fan since I was a kid and I’m an aficionado. I have most of the Early and Mid catalogue on vinyl, so I knew Lamont’s work and he was a big hero. I remember sitting at the piano in his house and having some of his hits flashing through my mind – Baby Love, Stop! In The Name of Love, Going Back To My roots – and thinking, This guy wrote these!
We spent a whole morning just making a lot of noise and banging out tunes on the piano and recording it on a Walkman. There was no singing, or writing of lyrics, it was just us working out some melodies. Lamont is an ideas machine and works fast, like he’s on a production line, and I remember having to respectfully keep reining him in. I would still be trying to get the first part of a song right when he’d be on the chorus, or at the end!
It was a very convivial few hours. Lamont is such a warm, friendly guy and he was quite paternal towards me. A lot of writers from his time got ripped off, so he told me to stay sharp and not allow myself to be exploited. Advice from someone like him was a great help and over the years I became a bit of a Rottweiler to make sure I got what was rightfully mine.
After that session I went away with an ordinary audio cassette and worked out the songs on my own. Eventually I came up with Infidelity and Suffer, which both appeared on the Men and Women album the following year. Lamont was happy with them, although he thought the words to Infidelity were a bit risky – but I was just writing about how things were for me at the time!
We worked together again at his house a couple of years later and wrote two more songs – You’ve Got It and Turn It Up – for Simply Red’s third album, A New Flame. We lost touch after that, but I remember bumping into him at a wedding in the 90s and we talked about writing again together. He’s 73 now and still going strong. What he has achieved is really amazing.
I laugh when I look at this picture because of my double-breasted suit. Simply Red had just done a deal to be kitted out by Paul Smith. We were all measured up at his shop in Covent Garden and Paul made me this one for me in Prince of Wales check with a beautiful red lining. It was the first time I’d ever had anything bespoke, so it was a thrill and I was very proud of it. In fact, I still have that suit and I can still fit into it – just! Interview by Rob McGibbon
The new Simply Red album Big Love is out now and their UK tour begins on 28th November. Visit www.simplyred.com.
Flashback with Stuart Broad – The Writer’s Cut
Stuart Broad remembers hanging out at cricket grounds with his dad, England opening batsman Chris, in 1991
This was taken when I was about five at Trent Bridge – Nottinghamshire Cricket Club’s home ground. Dad was playing for them at the time, two years after ending his England career in 1989. He had done really well with England and had been the Man of the Series when they retained The Ashes in the 1986-87 series in Australia after scoring centuries in three successive test matches.
My Mum and Dad split up when I was three, but they both lived in the Nottingham area and remained on good terms, so I spent most weekends staying with him. That’s when I first became aware Dad was a cricketer – because he had to take me to work! Trent Bridge became like a home from home with the staff looking after me while Dad did his stuff. One of my earliest memories is following him onto the pitch as he went out to bat when I was four. I thought, well if Dad’s playing, I’m going too, and I had to be grabbed by one of the members. Another time, I got way out onto the pitch in the middle of a match and had to be brought back by a fielder.
They were great times for me because I loved being around the cricketers. I went to grounds all over the country, so it was a real eye opener to the lifestyle and it was also inspirational to be in the dressing room. I got to hear all the match talk and the banter and I was allowed to mess around with the kit. I got to try on pads and gloves and play with grown-up bats. I got quite obsessed with cricket and from a young age I insisted on wearing white clothes, even when I was out playing with my mates. It was a nightmare for my Mum when it came to the washing! In this picture I am wearing a proper Nottinghamshire match jumper, which belonged to a batsman called Paul Johnson. His wife had shrunk it in the wash and because he was only 5ft 4in it nearly fitted me, so he gave it to me. That was my first bit of professional kit, so I absolutely loved that jumper!
Generally on match days, I only watched Dad bat for a bit, then I’d go off playing sport with other kids whose dads were in the teams. I remember us often using a large rubbish bin that was taller than me as stumps. And when I was seven I was playing rugby during a match at Bristol – when Dad was playing for Gloucestershire – and I broke my collarbone in a tackle. He was fielding at the time, so someone had to dash out to tell him that I was being rushed to hospital. He came off later to find me with my arm in a sling.
I was very proud of Dad when I was growing up. I used to walk about a yard behind him because it is hard to keep up with an adult’s stride when you’re a kid, so I’d see people do a double-take and say, “Hey, that was Chris Broad!” It was weird hearing people whisper about my Dad, but that’s when I knew he was sort of famous and had been successful. He was always encouraging about me following in his footsteps, but neither him, nor Mum were at all pushy. The key for them was that I had fun with sport and, even to this day, I still treat cricket as my hobby, not as a job. It’s the only way if you want to keep loving the game.
Dad and I are still really close and we live near each other in Nottingham. We enjoy sharing good dinners and nice wine, but we are really competitive, especially at golf. He is now an ICC (International Cricket Council) referee and is really proud of what I am achieving in cricket. All my life I have been called Chris Broad, but it has never bothered me. When I was starting out, kids would come up and ask, “Can I have your autograph, Chris?” and I’d say, “Of course. Do you want me to sign it Chris – or Stuart?!”
The name confusion has been a running joke between me and Dad. He used to tease me by saying, “I will only know that you have made it when I am called Stuart Broad’s dad!” Then, about 18 months ago, he was at a dinner event and he was introduced as “Stuart Broad’s dad”. It gave him a real buzz and he phoned to tell me what had happened. He said, “Well, son, it looks like you have officially made it!”
Stuart Broad is an Investec cricket ambassador. For information about Investec private banking visit investec.co.uk/pb or @InvestecCricket.
‘I wish I could have my virginity back, it would be fun to lose it again – without all that guilt!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: actress and cake queen Jane Asher
The prized possession you value above all others...My wedding ring, which Gerald [cartoonist Gerald Scarfe] and I chose together before we got married in 1981.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...That my father Richard never got to meet his grandchildren Katie, 40, Alexander, 33, and Rory, 31. He died far too young, in 1969, when he was only 57.
The temptation you wish you could resist...The second and third glasses of wine that I keep promising to refuse!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Stoner by John Williams from 1965, about a young farmer who falls in love with literature. It sums up the loneliness and frailty of the human condition.
The person who has influenced you most...My doctor father. He still constantly inspires me.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Harmful unscientific nonsense, from ‘detox’ and ‘colon cleansing’ to the waste of money in taking unnecessary supplements.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...God. I’d ask Him why He set the world up in such an over-complex and cruel way.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...You’re more likely to regret the things you don’t do than those you do, so go for it.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d zip around supermarkets taking all the packaging off the fruit and veg.
The film you can watch time and time again...Laughter In Paradise from 1951, in which a joker instructs his heirs in his will to undertake tasks that are totally out of character. It’s funny and moving as they improve their lives in ways they couldn’t have predicted.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My virginity! It would be fun to lose it again without the guilt and pregnancy fears linked with it in the past.
The unending quest that drives you on...I don’t believe there’s any ‘meaning of life’, but the not knowing keeps one going.
The poem that touches your soul...The House Is Not The Same Since You Left by Henry Normal. It’s so poignant how it expresses love and loss through the everyday objects that surround us.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...In showbiz you have to give up minding about what people think of you. I’ve read so many ‘facts’ about myself I never knew that I take them all with a pinch of salt.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Giving £100 to support Private Eye magazine in 1970. As a Thank You I was invited to its 10th birthday party in Brighton – where I met Gerald. It was fancying at first sight!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal the stunning antique Chanel diamond necklace I saw in a Knightsbridge shop window a few weeks ago. When I asked the price I nearly fainted.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...I loved reading horror comics as a child, which developed into an adult love of horror films – the scarier and gorier the better. I enjoy being really frightened, while knowing deep down that I’m safe.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...I’m a bit of a messy hoarder, so I need to sort out the cupboards, drawers and corners in my house that are full of unused stuff.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...It’ll start at 8pm – I’ll be in a hit new Broadway play, then Gerald and I will stay on the beach at the Rosewood Mayakoba hotel in Mexico. I’ll have an enormous breakfast: fresh berries with porridge, then poached eggs on toast with crispy bacon and very strong coffee. After reading the great reviews of my play I’ll go snorkelling, then we’ll meet our children for lunch in a mountain restaurant in Meribel, France. Afterwards I’ll ski like a dream. In the afternoon I’ll film an Emmy-nominated new TV series in Milan, then hit the shops there. In the evening Gerald and I will watch Don Giovanni, and we’ll end the day at Lulworth Cove in Dorset where I’m magically the owner of a cute cottage. We’ll eat fresh lobster with Veuve Clicquot champagne. Before sleeping, time stretches so I can finish all the wonderful books that have been piling up by my bed.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Realising aged ten that religion was a man-made invention. To know I only had this world to worry about came as a huge relief.
The song that means most to you...Gerald and I have always thought of Nilsson’s Without You as our song. Part of a good marriage involves the dependency reflected in the haunting line, ‘I can’t live, if living is without you…’
The saddest time that shook your world...Like most people I’ve had tragedies, but I’m afraid I can’t reveal any details out of respect for those involved.
The philosophy that underpins your life...To be kind is the most important attribute of all, but it’s not always easy.
The order of service at your funeral...Whatever will help my children not to be sad. If they’d rather there was no official ceremony that’s fine by me.
The way you want to be remembered...Alive!
The Plug...Jane stars in The Gathered Leaves at Park Theatre, north London, 15 July-15 August. For tickets call 020 7870 6876 or visit parktheatre.co.uk.
‘People always think I’m really short. Maybe the name Midge creates an image that I’m tiny. I’m 5ft 8in!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s musician Midge Ure’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...Two chairs made by the Glasgow designer George Logan around 1900. They cost £5,000 in 1981. They’re beautiful and they have a connection to Glasgow, which was my hometown.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not asking Phil Lynott to reform Thin Lizzy for Live Aid in 1985. It was a massive omission. I was in Thin Lizzy in 1979-80 and Phil was a great mate. [Lynott died aged 36 in 1986 from heart failure.]
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The novel Perfume by Patrick Süskind. The writing is so amazing you can smell the filth of 18th-century Paris.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d lock myself in a vintage guitar shop near my home in Bath and strum to my heart’s content.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Mindless idiots desecrating cities with graffiti.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Speak nicely because people will judge you by that. My mum instilled that in me.
The film you can watch time and time again...It’s A Wonderful Life with James Stewart. It’s a lesson in the importance of life and it’s beautifully acted.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Sweets. The urge never existed before I gave up drinking ten years ago, but now I’ll tuck into a family packet of Liquorice Allsorts. But it’s better than pouring flagons of Jack Daniel’s down me!
The person who has influenced you most...A teacher called Miss Gebbie. I was nine when she taught me how to draw a face and it inspired me. She was my first love!
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...The 19th-century Scottish architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh. He was a modernist and visionary – I’d like to know how he managed to stick to his guns and thrive.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Cooking. It’s my way of switching off from music. I’m fascinated by making flavours. It was hit and miss for a while, but now I know what goes with what.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...Naivety. I couldn’t write Vienna [his 1981 hit with Ultravox] today because I’d over-analyse it and worry what people would think.
The unending quest that drives you on...To create something better than I’ve created before.
The poem that touches your soul...A Red, Red Rose by Burns. I was ten when I sang it in front of the class and won a certificate. It was my first recognition for anything, let alone singing.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m really short! I’m 5ft 8in, which I think is fairly average. Maybe the name Midge creates an image that I’m tiny.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...When my daughter Kitty saw me getting a bottle of vodka out of the car while we were at a beach in Cornwall. It was ten years ago and I’d been in rehab, but I was still drinking. She was 11 and the look of disappointment on her face was hideous. I’ve not had a drink since that day.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d rifle through secret bank vaults in Switzerland and give the money to the poor.
The song that means most to you...My Mind’s Eye by Small Faces. They were my favourite band when I was 14 and I was besotted with that song. They were the ultimate pop band.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I travel so much that a special day for me is hanging out with my wife Sheridan and my girls [Molly 28, from his first marriage, Kitty, 21, Ruby, 18, and Flossie, 16], so I’d wake up at home in Bath. I’d have muesli with yoghurt for breakfast, plus white toast with banana, then I’d head to Rock beach in Cornwall for some boogie boarding with the family. We’d have fish and chips for lunch at Rick Stein’s restaurant in Padstow, then I’d wander around Nelson in New Zealand. I love it there because it’s so quaint and old-fashioned. I’d go into space and write a song while orbiting the Earth. After that, I’d head to the Isle of Mull and stay at Calgary Castle where Sheridan and I got married in 2003. All the family would hang out on the beach watching the sunset, then I’d have steak for dinner back at the castle – washed down with a Pepsi Max!
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...My tenth birthday when Mum and Dad gave me my first guitar. Dad only earned £6 a week, but the guitar cost £3. I was ecstatic, and I still have it.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day my father Jim died in 2001 when he was 82. It gave me the excuse to feel sorry for myself and my drinking escalated. I was on a bottle of Jack Daniel’s a day and the next four years were the saddest of my life.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To have a full head of hair again!
The philosophy that underpins your life...Strive for quality.
The order of service at your funeral...I want weeping and wailing in the church, but then Crossroads by Cream will play to liven everyone up. My girls can scatter my ashes on the Clyde.
The way you want to be remembered...Despite the pressures, he never gave in.
The Plug...Midge is currently on his Breathe Again Tour and is joining the 80s Invasion tour in March 2016. Visit midgeure.co.uk or tdpromo.com.
Published: 13 June 2015
Tennis ace Tim Henman:
‘Retiring from tennis in 2007 was the happiest moment of my life. For once I could do normal things without worrying about training or travelling’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: former tennis ace Tim Henman
The prized possession you value above all others...My wine cellar at home in Oxfordshire. I have about 1,200 bottles and I’ve spent far too much money on them. I love champagne, white Burgundy and red Bordeaux.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not being able to cook properly. I’m excellent at scrambled eggs on toast and pasta, but that’s about it.
The temptation you wish you could resist...That extra glass of wine that always leads to the hangover.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...‘Twas The Night Before Christmas. My mum and dad always read it to me on Christmas Eve. I read it to my three girls – Rosie, 12, Olivia, ten and Grace, seven – so there’s a lovely continuity.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d put all the cheats in sport out of business.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Impatient drivers who jump the queue.
The person who has influenced you most...My dad Tony. He introduced me to sport and taught me about the will to win. There aren’t many dads more competitive than mine!
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...My grandfather Henry Billington, who died when I was six. He played tennis at Wimbledon in the late 40s and 50s, so I’d love to talk to him about his experiences.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Good manners don’t cost anything, but they are so important. We’ve brought up all our children to be well-mannered.
The film you can watch time and time again...Wedding Crashers with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. I’ve seen it at least 30 times, but I still find it funny.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Watching Bjorn Borg play at Wimbledon in 1981. I was six and he was the defending five-times champion. It inspired me to be a professional tennis player.
The unending quest that drives you on...To putt as well as US golfer Ben Crenshaw.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Fires! I love building a bonfire, or sitting by an open fire in the house. I find flames mesmerising.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My healthy right shoulder! I injured it when I was 11, then aggravated it over the years and had an operation when I was 21. It aches when I play tennis.
The poem that touches your soul...If by Rudyard Kipling. The lines about treating triumph and disaster just the same are above the door as you walk out onto Centre Court.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I sit on the fence. For years, I had to give what was considered the ‘right’ answer to the media. Now, as a commentator, I can give the honest answer!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal the contents of the cellars at the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo. There are 600,000 bottles of the finest wine.
The song that means most to you...Let Me Entertain You by Robbie Williams. It was played at the arena in Birmingham during the Davis Cup against America in 1999. We lost 3-2 but it was an amazing weekend of tennis.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up in a villa on stilts in the ocean in the Maldives with my wife Lucy and our girls. We’d have a huge English breakfast and exotic fruit before swimming with dolphins. I’d play 18 holes with my golfing mates at Augusta and shoot a course record 62. We’d have a lobster and seafood platter for lunch at the clubhouse with a bottle of Montrachet white wine. Then I’d join the family at the Boulders Lodge at Singita Game Reserve, by Kruger National Park, South Africa where Lucy and I stayed on our honeymoon. We’d spend all afternoon watching animals, then have some Dom Pérignon Rosé in the bush. We’d go home and take our black Labradors Bumble and Bella for a walk, then end up at The Sweet Olive pub in the village of Aston Tirrold near our home. We’d take over the place for friends and family and enjoy fillet steak with magnums of Petrus ’82. The day would end in my own bed.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...When I retired from tennis in September 2007! I remember taking the girls to school and thinking, ‘Wow, I can do this without worrying about training, travelling or playing.’
The saddest time that shook your world...When our 12-year-old Labrador Bonnie died two years ago. The vet put her down at home because she was so ill. I held her and sobbed.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To travel more. I’ve visited 81 countries and want to see as much of the world as possible. New Zealand is top of the list.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Always give 100 per cent. I never won Wimbledon, despite being in four semi-finals, but I’m happy with my achievements because I gave everything I had.
The order of service at your funeral...I’m too busy living to dwell on it.
The way you want to be remembered...As a good father, husband and friend. And he had a great wine cellar!
The Plug...Tim Henman’s Charity Foundation and Centrepoint host a Pro-Am tournament in London on 24 June. For tickets to the gala dinner visit henmanfoundation.org.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 6 June 2015
Former England cricketer Nasser Hussain:
‘I’ve become enthralled with netball since my daughter Leila started playing’
We ask a celebrity a set of probing questions and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: former England cricket captain Nasser Hussain
The prized possession you value above all others...My dad Joe’s old watch. He died six years ago when he was 68 after a long illness and my mum gave it to me. I plan to leave it to my two boys Jacob, 13, and Joel, 12.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not reading more when I was a kid. I was always off playing cricket.
The temptation you wish you could resist...A glass of chardonnay at about 8pm each night after putting our three kids to bed. And a second glass depending on what kind of day it’s been!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...A Good Walk Spoiled by John Feinstein about life as a professional golfer. I love golf and this really takes you inside the mind of a pro.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d listen to a José Mourinho half-time team talk at Chelsea. Even though I’m an Arsenal fan, I sense that he always says something that lifts the team, but what is it?
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Rudeness. Manners get forgotten all too often these days.
The person who has influenced you most...My dad. He sacrificed so much so I could pursue my love of cricket as a boy. He drove me all over the country.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Nelson Mandela. I’d talk to him about how he managed to continue fighting for his beliefs without bitterness.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Be the best you can be. As long as you’ve given 100 per cent, you can hold your head up high.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Shawshank Redemption. I’ve seen it 50 times. It’s so powerful and Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman are an amazing double act.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A gold cricket bat medallion I bought on my first tour of the Caribbean with England in 1990. I wore it for five years, but then it just disappeared.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...I’ve become enthral-led with netball since my nine-year-old daughter Leila started playing. But I’m obsessed with the ‘footwork rule’. I have absolutely no idea how it works!
The unending quest that drives you on...To have no regrets.
The poem that touches your soul...Daffodils by William Wordsworth. To me, it represents the arrival of spring and the cricket season.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m angry. I was caught on camera shouting at the players when I was captain and that became my image. I’m a lot more chilled than people expect.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Being caught out soon after coming in at No.3 in a Test match against India in 1996. But I stayed put and waited for the umpire’s decision, which is a bit naughty, and was given Not Out. I went on to score 128 and was named Man of the Series. That was a turning point in my career.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d break into the Picasso Museum in Paris, steal one of his paintings and give it to my wife Karen. She loves his work.
The song that means most to you...Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinead O’Connor. I was listening to it during a period when I was scoring lots of runs, so I kept playing it. We cricketers are a superstitious lot!
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake in my own bed at home in Essex and have a fry-up with Karen and the kids. Then we’d arrive in Ullswater in the Lake District for a walk. We’d take a steamboat ride, then have a ploughman’s lunch in a pub. I’d only have a pint of lime and lemonade because any alcohol at lunchtime sends me to sleep. After that I’d play a round of golf at Augusta. Maybe I’d squeeze in a parachute jump after that. I’ve never done one, but it’s good to be taken out of your comfort zone! Later I’d join the family on Crane beach on the south coast of Barbados for some boogie-boarding, then have a rum punch and a roti in a beach bar. We’d spend the evening in Barcelona having tapas with a decent bottle of white wine. The day would end back home.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Watching Jacob score the winning goal in a league decider for his school when he was nine. All his team-mates went ballistic and hugged him.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day my dad died. I wish I’d spent more time with him, but I was away travelling so much.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To own a private jet to bypass all the hassle at airports.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Don’t sweat the small stuff. I’m a worrier by nature, but I try to limit my worrying to the things that matter.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d want a private ceremony with a few pleasantries and no fuss. I’ll leave provision for a wake with some decent wine, so it can end on a happy note.
The way you want to be remembered...With a smile by the people I love.
The Plug...The Investec Ashes begin on 8 July. For information about Investec private banking visit investec.co.uk/pb. Twitter @InvestecCricket.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 30 May 2015
Riverdance creator Michael Flatley:
"The saddest time? My father’s passing. It shook me deeply. The hardest thing I’ve ever done was deliver the eulogy. But he is still guiding me and I feel his presence with me all the time"
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Riverdance creator Michael Flatley
The prized possession you value above all others...A first edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses from 1922 with illustrations by Henri Matisse. It’s signed by both men and I keep it in the library at Castle Hyde, my home in County Cork.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not marrying my wife Niamh 20 years ago! We met in 1993 when she was in Riverdance. Our wedding in 2006 was one of the happiest days of my life.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Dancing in my show Feet Of Flames at New York’s Madison Square Garden in 2000. It was thrilling to be on the stage where so many heroes, such as Muhammad Ali, had performed.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Don’t resist – cut yourself some slack and enjoy life.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Meditations by the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius. So much of what he wrote is still relevant today.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d stay at home looking in the mirror – it’d make a nice change from what I normally see!
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...People who drive slowly in the fast lane on the motorway.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Mission with Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons is stunningly shot and has the best soundtrack ever.
The person who has influenced you most...My father Michael taught me self-discipline, hard work and integrity. He died in March aged 88 and I miss him terribly. He was my hero.
The poem that touches your soul...The last page of Ulysses is like the finest poetry. It’s timeless and elegant and I’ve memorised all the words.
The unending quest that drives you on...To do something of greatness that makes the world a little bit better.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A 1968 Corvette Stingray, which I had when I was growing up in Chicago. It was a real beauty, but I had to sell it to pay the rent.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Julius Caesar. I’d like to know if he was aware he was going to be assassinated.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Believe in yourself and in your dreams.
The song that means most to you...Yesterday, When I Was Young by Charles Aznavour is about living for today and not letting life pass you by.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...The opening night of Lord Of The Dance in Dublin in 1996. I was fired from Riverdance in 1995 and everybody seemed to abandon me, even though I’d created it. My father said, ‘Forget about them, just create a new show.’ I finally did it and we got a standing ovation.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...To break into Rome’s Colosseum at night and dance my heart out would be incredible.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...What people think about me is none of my business.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...I’m a flautist too and I collect antique wooden flutes. I have about 50 and I keep them by the bar at home. I like nothing more than mixing a perfect martini and playing a couple of them.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend all day with Niamh and our son Michael St James, who’s seven. Breakfast would be on the balcony of the Hotel Splendido in Portofino, Italy: espresso coffee for me and two croissants with melted chocolate. Then a Mangusta 130 yacht would power us along the Amalfi Coast – where we’d walk through Ravello – then to Monte Carlo for lunch at Le Louis XV restaurant at the Hotel de Paris. I’d have risotto with fresh truffles and some Château Latour 1982, then we’d relax on the beach at the Reethi Rah hotel in the Maldives. I’d spend the rest of the day playing Lego with my son. In the evening, I’d drink a dry martini at the George V hotel in Paris, then have dinner with Niamh in London: I’d have a pasta starter at Harry’s Bar with some Petrus 1990, then head to C London for a veal chop with mashed potatoes and some Cheval Blanc 1990, before finishing with dessert at Mark’s Club with a glass of Château d’Yquem 1947. After that we’d go dancing in New York at a place I always keep secret. We’d dance to Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra.
The saddest time that shook your world...My father’s passing. It shook me deeply. The hardest thing I’ve ever done was deliver the eulogy.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To have my new paintings accepted by the art world. My first exhibition is in London in June.
The philosophy that underpins your life...When the bell rings, get out there and throw your best punch.
The order of service at your funeral...I just want plenty of good Irish whiskey and music, so everyone has a good time.
The way you want to be remembered...As someone who gave every last drop of energy on stage to make people happy.
The Plug...Lord Of The Dance: Dangerous Games is at London’s Dominion Theatre, and then touring. For tickets visit lordofthedance.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 23 May 2015
TV presenter Chris Tarrant:
‘I love flower arranging. Seriously! It gives me great satisfaction – and gives me wife a big laugh!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s presenter Chris Tarrant’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...My lucky 1949 George VI sixpence. It was handed to me in 1984 by a stranger who said, ‘Be lucky.’ My first marriage had collapsed and my career was in bad shape. Then I got a job presenting on Capital Radio.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Pork pies. They have no nutritional value but they’re so tasty.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...David Niven’s memoir, The Moon’s A Balloon. It made me laugh and inspired me to write about my own life.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d follow Kim Jong-un around. North Korea is such a mystery, it would be fascinating to see what really goes on.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Footballers swearing on TV. Children are watching.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Deer Hunter with Robert De Niro and Christopher Walken. It’s riveting, especially the Russian roulette scene.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...That I never learnt to play the violin. I had lessons when I was ten but I packed it in.
The person who has influenced you most...My dad Basil. He was such a kind and honourable man. Dad died from heart failure in 2005 when he was 85.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Henry VIII. He was creative and sensitive, but also capable of brutal acts.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Treasure every day because you never know when your number is up. When I was 11 one of my best friends was knocked off his bicycle and killed.
The song that means most to you...A Day In The Life by The Beatles. As a DJ, it was the only song I could play and always enjoy.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Flower arranging. Seriously! I like walking in the country, picking wild flowers and putting them in vases. My wife has a good old laugh about it.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...The ability to bowl fast. I was a decent fast bowler, but now I’m 68 I’ve lost my speed. It’s nothing to do with the stroke I had last year – I’ve recovered. I’ve become a wily spin bowler now.
The unending quest that drives you on...To catch a 100lb carp.
The poem that touches your soul...For The Fallen by Laurence Binyon. I think it’s the best war poem.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m a motormouth who talks all the time. I can be larger than life when I’m working, but I’m a quiet, sensitive person.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Presenting Tiswas, which started in 1974. Everything in my career has come from that.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I would murder Aleksandr the Meerkat from those TV ads. I have to turn the telly over when he comes on.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d begin fishing for salmon at the River Gaula in Norway. I’d be with my mate Sean who loves fishing, but isn’t very good, which makes me look better. We always put the fish back, but after that I’d have smoked salmon and scrambled eggs for breakfast with coffee at a cafe by the river. Then I’d watch a Test match between England and India in Calcutta where Alastair Cook would score a fast century. Lunch would be in Cambodia with Jane. They make the best curries in the world. I’d have a few local beers, visit some ancient temples, then go to the Maldives with Jane and my kids [he has six, aged 22-38, from two previous marriages]. We’d snorkel alongside the great manta rays, then hang out on the beach. I’d watch the sunset in Yukon, Canada, and have a huge steak for dinner. I’d end the day at home in Berkshire. I’d pour myself a glass of red wine and watch an episode of The Sopranos.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Getting the Lifetime Achievement Award at the National Television Awards at the Royal Albert Hall in 2000. Dad came on stage to give it to me disguised as the Phantom Flan Flinger from Tiswas.
The saddest time that shook your world...My mum Joan dying in 2012. She was 92. It was made worse when her house was burgled three days later.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To sleep with Tina Turner! That smile, those legs…
The philosophy that underpins your life...Never lose sight of the things that really matter. Even when I was working all hours on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, I’d go to a river at midnight to do a bit of fishing.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d want a very positive and uplifting service at a local church with Bobby McFerrin’s Don’t Worry Be Happy. I want my ashes scattered on the River Kennet in Berkshire and later all my family and mates can have a big cricket match in my memory at Lord’s.
The way you want to be remembered...As someone who made people smile.
The Plug...Dad’s War – Chris’s tribute to his war hero father – is published in paperback by Virgin priced £7.99.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 16 May 2015
Sherlock actor Rupert Graves:
‘People think that the writer Robert Graves was my dad and that the diver Tom Daley is my son!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Sherlock star Rupert Graves
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not concentrating at school. I left at 15 with a few low-grade CSEs, and I’ve had to wing it ever since. I’ve always felt a bit insecure about my education.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Showing off. Whether it’s telling bad jokes, pulling funny faces or doing silly accents, I can’t help myself. I’ve even broken bones doing mad stuff.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The US detective novel Black Cherry Blues by James Lee Burke. It has beautifully drawn but flawed characters.
The person who has influenced you most...The theatre director Frank Hauser. He directed me in my second professional play, the comedy Candida by George Bernard Shaw, when I was 23. I hadn’t trained as an actor so I felt out of my depth, but he taught me to go on my instinct.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Philadelphia Story from 1940, with Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant and James Stewart. It’s brilliantly funny.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’m an Arsenal fan, so I’d listen to manager Arsène Wenger talking tactics in the dressing room at half-time.
The prized possession you value above all others...My 1965 Gibson ES-120T electric guitar. I bought it last year for £1,100 and I love its rich, jazzy sound.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...My own intolerance to other drivers. I’m probably as guilty of bad driving as them.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Nelson Mandela. I didn’t appreciate just how great he was until I read his obituaries.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Darts. I used to play at the pub, but I can’t now because I’ve got five kids! It’s thrilling that the difference between winning and losing is a fraction of a millimetre.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...I’d encourage them to trust their own judgement.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...Perfect vision in my right eye. I got stabbed in it with a sword in a school play, and I’ve had tunnel vision on that side ever since.
The unending quest that drives you on...To squeeze as much enjoyment out of life as possible.
The poem that touches your soul...The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot. It’s full of sadness and regret.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That writer and poet Robert Graves was my dad, and Olympic diver Tom Daley is my son because he looks like me!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Joining the circus when I was 17. I replied to a YTS offer at my local Jobcentre in Weston-super-Mare and became Tomato the Clown for a while on £25 a week. It was my first chance to perform professionally, and it helped me get my Equity card.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d devise a brilliant, Italian Job-style raid on the Bank of England’s gold bullion stocks.
The song that means most to you...I’m always uplifted when I play Bob Marley’s No Woman, No Cry.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...The day would begin on an island in the Maldives with my wife Susie and our children [Joseph, 11, Ella, ten, Noah, eight, Isaac, six, and Zoe, four]. After tropical fruit and coffee we’d snorkel over the coral reef and swim with turtles. I’d harpoon some fish for a beach barbecue, then go on the best eight waterpark rides imaginable, which will have been installed on the island just for us. Later, Susie and I would take the bullet train from Tokyo to the Japanese countryside and climb some awesome mountains. After that, I’d look at some ancient ruins in Ethiopia, then airlift some actor friends to our tropical island for a sunset game of beach football. Later, Susie and I would have dinner with friends at the amazing Noma restaurant in Copenhagen, Denmark. The day would end at Ronnie Scott’s jazz club in Soho watching David Bowie doing a super-exclusive gig, during which I’d come on stage and play guitar perfectly. Spectacular!
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Our wedding day in 2001 in a park by Sydney Harbour. I’ve never felt such happiness and excitement.
The saddest time that shook your world...When I saw my mum dead. She [Mary] died in 1993 when she was only 59. She had been ill with cancer for a long time, so I knew she was going to die. There was a sense of relief that she was no longer suffering, but seeing her body in the hospice and to be faced with the finality of death was overwhelmingly sad. I was with her for about an hour and, basically, I howled with emotion.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To play guitar brilliantly like Johnny Marr from The Smiths or King Crimson’s Robert Fripp.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Treat life as an adventure and keep your sense of humour.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d have a funeral pyre in a big field, then as it burned people would party around me with some great live music and plenty to drink. My loved ones can throw my ashes to the winds somewhere special to them.
The way you want to be remembered...Fondly by my family and friends.
The Plug...The Stroke Association funds research, campaigns for better prevention and care, and supports survivors. To donate, visit stroke.org.uk/donation or call 0303 3033 100.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 9 May 2015
Strictly Come Dancing’s Bruno Tonioli:
‘My mother’s death made me grow up, but even now it is like a constant stabbing in the heart. Nothing takes away the pain’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Strictly judge Bruno Tonioli
The prized possession you value above all others...My mother Fulvia’s gold wedding ring and bracelet. She died suddenly from a heart attack in July 1994 when she was 63. It was a great shock, so I have huge emotional attachment to her jewellery and I keep it near me.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...I wish my parents had lived to see me on Strictly. My father Werther died in 2001 when he was 70 after suffering from Alzheimer’s.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Smoking. I started when I was 14 and I smoke about ten a day, but sometimes I get through 20. It’s my only addiction and I can’t control myself.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...One Hundred Years Of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez blows my mind. It’s like you’re reading in 3D.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d see the private rooms at Buckingham Palace and find out if the Queen watches Strictly! I hear that Camilla does.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...People in cinemas with trays of stinking junk food who sit there munching and slurping during the film.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Alexander the Great. He conquered half the world by the time he was 30. I want to know how he did it.
The person who has influenced you most...The theatre director Frantz Salieri. I was 18 and an amateur dancer, but he gave me the lead in the hit show La Grande Eugène, which went to Paris and London and started me on my path.
The piece of wisdom you’d pass on to a child...Never lose your curiosity – you never know when a piece of knowledge will be useful.
The film you can watch time and time again...Singin’ In The Rain. It makes you want to be in showbusiness and the dance numbers are brilliant.
The unending quest that drives you on...To be open to opportunities and ready for the next adventure.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Gardening. I’ve never been taught, but I can plant anything – even a twig – and it grows. My ancestors were farmers and I garden by instinct.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A gold chain my grandmother Ines gave me when I was 18. It was stolen in a burglary in London a few years later. I never told her.
The poem that touches your soul...John Lennon’s Imagine has universal value. Even without music, its words speak for themselves.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m an exuberant, larger-than-life character. That’s a performance I create to entertain people. Away from TV I’m quiet, low-key and private. I’m happy cooking, gardening and being with friends.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My mother’s death, because it made me grow up. It’s like a constant stabbing in the heart. Nothing takes away the pain.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal one of Chris Evans’ Ferraris, just to see his face when he realises it’s gone. I’ve never owned a Ferrari, so his collection makes me green with envy.
The song that means most to you...The aria Casta Diva from Bellini’s opera Norma. I once saw Montserrat Caballé sing it and I sobbed uncontrollably right from the introduction.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’m single, so I’d meet gangs of friends in different locations. Breakfast would be at the Grand Hotel Timeo, in Sicily, which has breathtaking views of Mount Etna. I’d have a cappuccino and Sicilian pastries. After that I’d snorkel over the coral reef of an island in the Maldives and feed tropical fish. Lunch would be fried baby calamari in the bay at Positano, Italy. I don’t drink much, but I’ll have a glass of rosé, then stroll around Rome. I’d have a coffee in a café, then do some shopping. I’d watch the sunset over cocktails on the island of Santorini in Greece, then go for dinner at The River Café in west London. A group of us would sit outside on a hot summer’s night, sipping some Gavi white wine and eating whatever the chef recommends. After that I’d see a show on Broadway and end the day in my own bed at my flat in Maida Vale, London.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...When I took my parents to the Royal Opera House in the 1980s after I’d found some success as a choreographer. They’d never seen an opera and they were so startled they could hardly speak. It was a precious time and I thank God I took them.
The saddest time that shook your world...Any bereavement is sad. Each one brings back the pain of the others.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To play a baddie in a movie. I’ve choreographed about ten films and appeared in two, but it would be great fun to play an evil genius or a heavy-duty Mafioso or even a vampire!
The philosophy that underpins your life...Keep believing in your dreams.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d have a couple of big opera arias for dramatic effect, then a party. I’d like my ashes scattered under a tree in a beautiful garden in London.
The way you want to be remembered...He did the best he could.
The Plug...Fight For Life is a charity that helps children with cancer. Please support it by visiting fightforlife.org.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 2 May 2015
Historian Dan Snow:
‘Life is best organised as a series of adventures from a secure base’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: broadcaster and historian Dan Snow.
The prized possession you value above all others...My books. I have about 1,000 and each one evokes memories of what life was like when I read them.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not taking up a rowing scholarship at University of California, Berkeley, after I finished at Oxford. It would have been amazing. Instead, I went to work with my Dad [broadcaster Peter Snow] at the BBC, but sometimes you face big decisions and there’s no wrong answer.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...One Hundred Years Of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez. I read it when I was 17 and it filled me with a yearning to enter an adult world that was exotic, erotic and thrilling.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d film the intimate moments of the world’s most powerful and pompous men, then broadcast it. Hopefully, it would take them down a peg or two.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Losing the Boat Race with Oxford in 1999. I realised that life was not a golden progression from one success to another and that I needed to work harder.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Betraying children by discouraging them from aiming high.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Salt and vinegar crisps. I ration myself to one packet a week because they’re so bad for you.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Last Of The Mohicans with Daniel Day-Lewis. The acting, story, look and sound are amazing. I’m fascinated by 18th-century America.
The person who has influenced you most...My mum, Ann. She’s always struck a balance between work and fun, compassion and tough love.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Horatio Nelson. I’d love to experience his legendary charisma. He got seasick, so I’d give him a wide berth at sea.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...I’m obsessed with preparing for the apocalypse! I doubt our infrastructure could cope with a large solar flare.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...You will fail at lots of things, but never let that stop you.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...The fearlessness of my 23-year-old self. When my daughter was born [Zia, now three], I went to Syria to make a programme about the war and I realised I was being selfish. I have responsibilities now and shouldn’t have been running around a battlefield [Dan is now 36].
The unending quest that drives you on...To see all the ancient ruins of past civilisations, particularly those in Central and South America.
The poem that touches your soul...Ulysses by Tennyson. It has a verse for almost every situation we face in life.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...Nearly everyone thinks that Jon Snow is my dad. Dad is Peter and Jon is my first cousin once removed!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d assassinate warlords from Syria to the Congo.
The song that means most to you...Slide Away by Oasis. I was 15 when it came out in 1994 and my world was opening up as childhood slid off me.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend all day with my wife Edwina with our six-month-old son Wolf strapped to my stomach and Zia in the backpack. We’d watch dawn come up on a kayak in Fiordland, South Island, New Zealand. Breakfast would be pastries in a cafe in Paris. We’d hike along the South Downs then whizz around the Roman ruins in Libya. A speed boat would then take us to a lunch of local delicacies in Byblos, Lebanon. After that, we’d raft down the Columbia River in Canada, stopping off in Assiniboine Provincial Park in British Columbia. I’d have a Kokanee beer there before watching the sunset in Stone Town, Zanzibar. We’d have a cocktail on the quayside in Portofino, Italy, before watching the Northern Lights in Scotland. Then we’d have Beef Wellington for dinner in a pub in Derbyshire with a glass or two of red wine. Edwina and I would have a night out in New York, then I’d finish the day looking at the stars from a raft floating 1,000 miles east of Newfoundland.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The day I left a summer job in the Canadian Rocky Mountains when I was 18. To re-enter civilisation, I had to run along tiny trails, shouting out to ward off grizzly bears, but I didn’t have a trouble on my mind.
The saddest time that shook your world...In 2013, my wife lost our child six months into her pregnancy. It was difficult to smile for a long time.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To read War And Peace. I have got to get that sorted!
The philosophy that underpins your life...Life is best organised as a series of adventures from a secure base.
The order of service at your funeral...Just friends and family telling silly, weird stories. My ashes can be thrown into the wind on the South Coast.
The way you want to be remembered...As someone who never took being happy and alive for granted.
The Plug...Dan has produced a series of history Apps. Find them in the Apple App Store or visit timelineww2.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 25 April 2015
England rugby player Danny Cipriani:
‘I love philosophy. My motivational coach quotes philosophers like Aristotle and I keep a journal of the sayings’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s rugby player Danny Cipriani
The prized possession you value above all others...My medal for winning the Heineken Cup – the European Cup for rugby – with London Wasps in 2007. It was an incredible feeling to win in front of 82,000 at Twickenham.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Breaking my ankle during a Wasps match against Bath in 2008. I missed a tour of New Zealand with England and it took months to get fit again.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Peanut butter Chunky Kit Kats. I’m on a strict diet to maintain my fitness but I often give in to a Kit Kat at the petrol station on a long motorway journey.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Blink: The Power Of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell. It reaffirms that you must trust your instincts when playing sport, and in life.
The poem that touches your soul...If by Rudyard Kipling always inspires me. It helps me deal with challenges and remain positive.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d infiltrate all the major teams ahead of this year’s Rugby World Cup to find out how they plan to play against England.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Untidiness. I’m the one telling the guys to clean up the training ground. It’s part of discipline.
The film you can watch time and time again...Any Given Sunday with Al Pacino and Jamie Foxx. It’s about an American football team and is spot-on about the way sport works.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Philosophy. My motivational coach, Steve Black, is always quoting philosophers like Aristotle and I keep a journal of the sayings.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d pull off an intricate robbery on a Las Vegas casino, like in the Ocean’s Eleven film, and give the money to the poor.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My first pair of rugby boots. I was given them when I was seven and it felt like my birthday and Christmas had come at once. They disappeared after we moved house when I was 12.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Find the courage to be true to yourself, no matter what.
The person who has influenced you most...My mum, Anne. Her and Dad split up when I was two. She did The Knowledge to be a black taxi driver and get me through private education.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Martin Luther King. I’d like to know how he found the strength to fight against such extreme odds.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m a party boy and a drinker. It started when I was photographed at a nightclub, but I was dropping some tickets to a friend. I’m very committed to my profession.
The unending quest that drives you on...To be the best I can be. I’m only 27, so I still have everything to play for.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Attending a week’s training camp at London Wasps academy when I was 15. After that I knew I wanted to be a rugby player.
The song that means most to you...The Motto by Drake. It reminds me of my friend Tom Maynard [the Welsh cricketer who died on a Tube track in 2012 after fleeing police]. I remember him dancing to it with a big smile.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d start in the South Yarra area of Melbourne, Australia. I played for the Rebels there a few years back, so I’d have a reunion brunch with mates at a local cafe. I’d have scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, exotic fruit and good coffee. Later I’d go to Tobago where my dad Jay lives. We’d have a big family lunch of crab and dumplings on the beach at Store Bay. As I’m on holiday I’d have a few beers, then we’d all go snorkelling over the reef. In the evening, I’d meet friends for dinner at Nobu in LA. We’d have sushi and wagyu beef, with plenty of sake and then I’d fly everyone to Las Vegas in a private jet for ringside seats at the Floyd Mayweather versus Manny Pacquiao fight. We’d all end the day by checking into a high-roller suite at the Aria hotel.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...My England debut against Ireland in 2008 when my boyhood dream came true.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my uncle Peter died of throat cancer before Christmas last year. He was only in his late 50s and I was with him when he died.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To win the World Cup with England.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Never give up.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d only want a modest church service. Then I want my ashes scattered on the sea in Tobago, followed by a big beach party for my friends and family.
The way you want to be remembered...He was occasionally on time!
The Plug...Danny is ambassador for the Welcome Back To Milk campaign for a2 Milk. Visit a2milk.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 18 April 2014
Master chef Michel Roux Jr:
‘I was a bit of a rocker in my teens, I still love a good head bang!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of chef Michel Roux Jr
The prized possession you value above all others...My collection of cookbooks and old menus, particularly a signed 1903 first edition of Le Guide Culinaire by the legendary chef Auguste Escoffier. My father Albert gave it to me when I was in my 20s. It’s priceless to me.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not letting my daughter Emily, 24, go to the Champions League semi-final, second leg, between Arsenal and Manchester United in 2009. I was meant to have two tickets, but only got one. I’m a big United fan and it took about five seconds for me to decide to take it. She still reminds me about it!
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...Time is my most precious commodity, so a perfect day would be cutting away from London to enjoy peace with my wife Giselle and Emily, hopping between islands in the Seychelles. I’d wake up in the luxurious cotton sheets of the hotel on Frégate Island. Breakfast would be a croissant, mango juice and an espresso. Then I’d go for a run, a swim and snorkel. We’d then take a speedboat to a bigger island called Mahé for lunch at the Plantation Club Hotel, where Giselle and I got married in 1990. We’d have grilled local fish with a bottle of Chapoutier Le Meal 1990. Then we’d spend the rest of the day on Bird Island where I’d swim and read, then go fishing on the beach with a fridge next to me full of Taittinger and Krug champagne!
The temptation you wish you could resist...Good-quality confectionery, especially Amedei chocolate from Italy. If I open a box I go on a feeding frenzy.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Cod by Mark Kurlansky, which recounts the fish’s impact on the world. It will get anyone hooked!
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d love to have been in the Man United dressing room in 2003 when Alex Ferguson kicked a boot at David Beckham.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Apart from traffic in London, it’s graffiti on beautiful old monuments.
The film you can watch time and time again...I love Quentin Tarantino movies, especially the two Kill Bill films. They’re gory but hilarious.
The person who has influenced you most...I’m hugely indebted to my first head chef Henri Hellegouarch. He taught me so much, especially to never be late. To this day, I’m always on time.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Napoleon. I’d love to know if he was really such a great tactician.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Keep a diary of important moments in your life. You can refer back and be inspired, or learn from your mistakes.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Shark fishing. I love pitting my wits against them with a light rod. The biggest I’ve caught is a 170lb blue shark, but I always release them unharmed.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A gold ring my father gave me in my teens. He’d inherited it, but I lost it fishing in the Thames.
The unending quest that drives you on...Perfection, but I seldom reach it.
The poem that touches your soul...Poetry doesn’t float my boat but I love rugby and adore Jerusalem. I sing it out loud.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m Raymond Blanc. People stop me and say, ‘How lovely to see you, Raymond.’ I often don’t correct them, and just let them go on their way, delighted to have met the great Raymond!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...The day Emily was born. It was our fourth and final attempt at IVF, so it was extra special. The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I enjoy fast cars, so I’d steal a McLaren road car and drive it as fast as I could.
The song that means most to you...Child In Time by Deep Purple. It’s a belter that takes me back to my teenage years when I was a bit of a rocker. I still love a good headbang to it.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Watching United beat Bayern Munich 2-1 in the Champions League Final in Barcelona in 1999. I was sitting behind the goal where they scored.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my uncle Jean died about 15 years ago from cancer in his 50s. He was super, and I was very close to him.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To hook a big black marlin. I’m planning a trip to the Azores soon to try my luck.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Fill each day with new challenges and tackle them head on.
The order of service at your funeral...I always shun big parties because I don’t feel comfortable, so I don’t want anything grand. But I’ll leave provisions for a feast with great wine, including Pol Roger champagne, Château Haut-Brion red and Château d’Yquem sweet wine. If I manage to buy a plot at Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris, I’ll be buried there.
The way you want to be remembered...For inspiring youngsters to work in my industry. That’s the most important thing you can do.
The Plug...Michel and his father Albert have created the Chez Roux @ Blue Riband restaurant for the Investec Derby Festival, 5-6 June. For tickets visit epsomdowns.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 18 April 2015
Master chef Michel Roux Jr:
‘I was a bit of a rocker in my teens, I still love a good head bang!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of chef Michel Roux Jr
The prized possession you value above all others...My collection of cookbooks and old menus, particularly a signed 1903 first edition of Le Guide Culinaire by the legendary chef Auguste Escoffier. My father Albert gave it to me when I was in my 20s. It’s priceless to me.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not letting my daughter Emily, 24, go to the Champions League semi-final, second leg, between Arsenal and Manchester United in 2009. I was meant to have two tickets, but only got one. I’m a big United fan and it took about five seconds for me to decide to take it. She still reminds me about it!
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...Time is my most precious commodity, so a perfect day would be cutting away from London to enjoy peace with my wife Giselle and Emily, hopping between islands in the Seychelles. I’d wake up in the luxurious cotton sheets of the hotel on Frégate Island. Breakfast would be a croissant, mango juice and an espresso. Then I’d go for a run, a swim and snorkel. We’d then take a speedboat to a bigger island called Mahé for lunch at the Plantation Club Hotel, where Giselle and I got married in 1990. We’d have grilled local fish with a bottle of Chapoutier Le Meal 1990. Then we’d spend the rest of the day on Bird Island where I’d swim and read, then go fishing on the beach with a fridge next to me full of Taittinger and Krug champagne!
The temptation you wish you could resist...Good-quality confectionery, especially Amedei chocolate from Italy. If I open a box I go on a feeding frenzy.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Cod by Mark Kurlansky, which recounts the fish’s impact on the world. It will get anyone hooked!
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d love to have been in the Man United dressing room in 2003 when Alex Ferguson kicked a boot at David Beckham.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Apart from traffic in London, it’s graffiti on beautiful old monuments.
The film you can watch time and time again...I love Quentin Tarantino movies, especially the two Kill Bill films. They’re gory but hilarious.
The person who has influenced you most...I’m hugely indebted to my first head chef Henri Hellegouarch. He taught me so much, especially to never be late. To this day, I’m always on time.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Napoleon. I’d love to know if he was really such a great tactician.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Keep a diary of important moments in your life. You can refer back and be inspired, or learn from your mistakes.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Shark fishing. I love pitting my wits against them with a light rod. The biggest I’ve caught is a 170lb blue shark, but I always release them unharmed.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A gold ring my father gave me in my teens. He’d inherited it, but I lost it fishing in the Thames.
The unending quest that drives you on...Perfection, but I seldom reach it.
The poem that touches your soul...Poetry doesn’t float my boat but I love rugby and adore Jerusalem. I sing it out loud.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m Raymond Blanc. People stop me and say, ‘How lovely to see you, Raymond.’ I often don’t correct them, and just let them go on their way, delighted to have met the great Raymond!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...The day Emily was born. It was our fourth and final attempt at IVF, so it was extra special.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I enjoy fast cars, so I’d steal a McLaren road car and drive it as fast as I could.
The song that means most to you...Child In Time by Deep Purple. It’s a belter that takes me back to my teenage years when I was a bit of a rocker. I still love a good headbang to it.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Watching United beat Bayern Munich 2-1 in the Champions League Final in Barcelona in 1999. I was sitting behind the goal where they scored.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my uncle Jean died about 15 years ago from cancer in his 50s. He was super, and I was very close to him.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To hook a big black marlin. I’m planning a trip to the Azores soon to try my luck.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Fill each day with new challenges and tackle them head on.
The order of service at your funeral...I always shun big parties because I don’t feel comfortable, so I don’t want anything grand. But I’ll leave provisions for a feast with great wine, including Pol Roger champagne, Château Haut-Brion red and Château d’Yquem sweet wine. If I manage to buy a plot at Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris, I’ll be buried there.
The way you want to be remembered...For inspiring youngsters to work in my industry. That’s the most important thing you can do.
The Plug...Michel and his father Albert have created the Chez Roux @ Blue Riband restaurant for the Investec Derby Festival, 5-6 June. For tickets visit epsomdowns.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 11 April 2015
TV presenter Ben Shephard:
‘People don’t expect it of me, but I love classical music. When I was 12, I won a school scholarship for playing piano and clarinet’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilish questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Good Morning Britain host Ben Shephard
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...That I didn’t propose to my wife Annie sooner – we’d been together nine years. Marriage gave me calmness.
The temptation you wish you could resist...That extra glass of wine at the end of a boozy night. It’s the one that really hurts in the morning.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Tao Of Pooh. It uses the characters from Winnie The Pooh to explain Taoist philosophy. The simplicity is magical.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...I get impatient with people who take life too seriously.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d follow political leaders to hear what they’re really planning.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Sting with Paul Newman and Robert Redford. The chemistry between those two is electrifying.
The prized possession you value above all others...A Bremont MB1 watch. You can only get one if you’ve been ejected from a plane in a Martin-Baker ejection seat. My mate is an RAF fighter pilot and he and his passenger had to eject from a Tornado. The passenger didn’t want his watch so I bought it. It’s unique.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...The youthful elasticity in my skin. Now that I’m 40 you can see every line on my face and I’ve got bags under my eyes.
The person who has influenced you most...My mum Jo. She’s incredibly generous and is always the life and soul of a party. She taught me so much.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Bobby Moore. To talk to him about the moment he lifted the World Cup at Wembley would be amazing.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My first date with Annie in 1995 when I kissed her for the first time. We’ve been together ever since.
The unending quest that drives you on...To live by a beach, so I can kite surf every day.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Playing classical music. It’s not exactly unusual, but I don’t think people expect it of me. I got a scholarship when I was 12 for piano and clarinet. I played in orchestras and bands throughout my teens but stopped in my 20s. I’m coming back to it now because my kids are learning piano.
The poem that touches your soul...I love Jerusalem by William Blake as a hymn. I’m very patriotic.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...My son Sam passed this on to me after he came back from nursery with a grazed knee. He said, ‘The most important thing about falling over is learning to pick yourself up!’
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m short! People meet me and always say, ‘You’re much taller than I expected.’ I’m 5ft 10½ – the half is very important!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d do an ingenious con against bad people to right an injustice, just like in The Sting.
The song that means most to you...Górecki by a band called Lamb. A friend introduced Annie and I to it not long after we got together and it always reminds me of our early days together.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up in Sydney with Annie and our boys – Sam, nine, and Jack, eight – and have a fry-up for breakfast at a cafe by the harbour. Then we’d hang out with my godmother Auntie Chris and my cousins who live there. After that, I’d go to Queenstown in New Zealand for a few hours of extreme sports, such as bungee jumping and river surfing. I’d stay there for lunch and have roast lamb with a decent bottle of red wine. In the afternoon, Annie and I would check into Burgh Island Hotel in Devon where we got married in 2004. We’d have a few whisky sour cocktails in Gary’s bar at sundown. Guests usually dress up for dinner, so I’d be in black tie and Annie would wear a 20s dress. In the evening, all my family and friends would gather at the Golden Lion pub in Port Isaac, Cornwall, where my parents live. We’d have fish and chips and too many pints of Doom Bar bitter. We’d end the night staggering up the hill to Mum and Dad’s for a nightcap before crashing out.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Watching West Ham win 2-1 against Blackpool at Wembley in 2012 in the play-off final to get into the Premier League.
The saddest time that shook your world...When our Jack Russell Daisy disappeared when I was 13. She went off hunting rabbits in Epping Forest and never returned.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To hit the winning shot in the Ryder Cup.
The philosophy that underpins your life...There’s always tomorrow to sleep, so grab every opportunity now.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d have a church service with hymns. There’d be a game of football followed by a big party. Annie’s reserved two plots for us at a church near our home in London. It’s a bit macabre – but at least I know where I’m going to end up!
The way you want to be remembered...He brought out the best in people.
The Plug...Ben Shephard presents the obstacle course gameshow Ninja Warrior with Rochelle Humes and Chris Kamara on ITV on Saturdays at 7pm.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 4 April 2015
Documentary-maker Louis Theroux:
‘People think I’m a calculating inquisitor , but I’m just as bumbling off camera’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: documentary-maker Louis Theroux
The prized possession you value above all others...A print of the outlaw Ned Kelly by the late Australian artist Sydney Nolan, which my dad [writer Paul Theroux] gave me for my 40th birthday.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...That I didn’t go to art school before going to study history at Oxford. I’ve always enjoyed painting but I went to teach in schools in Zimbabwe instead.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Chocolate with sea salt. I’m particularly weak in the evening.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Love In The Time Of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez. The sweep of his writing is bewitching.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d go to the headquarters of the church of Scientology. I’ve been working on a film about them for a year, but access has been tricky. It would be a coup to follow its leader David Miscavige.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Casual snobbery from people obsessed with materialism. I tell people I live in Harlesden in north-west London and I can see them thinking, ‘Why do you live there!’
The film you can watch time and time again...Coraline, about a girl who finds a secret passage to another world. My children loved it when they were younger.
The person who has influenced you most...The film-maker Michael Moore. He gave me my first break in television on the show TV Nation in 1994 and encouraged me to break the rules.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Shakespeare. I’d document his writing process and get to know about the difficult passages in his life that gave him his craft.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Look after your body because there will be a bill to pay when you’re older. I’m 44 and things are happening that I never dreamed of – like bad joints and man boobs!
The poem that touches your soul...The Embankment by TE Hulme always moves me.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...The Crossrail tunnelling machines. I’m on an email alert list that tells me when they’ve reached a certain point. I then click through to see some pictures.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d hunt pigeons and squirrels to use as food. A lot of money could be saved if we ate urban wildlife. I’ve heard of people ‘harvesting’ squirrels from parks and serving them at dinner parties!
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My healthy left knee. It’s been damaged by jogging.
The unending quest that drives you on...To make the perfect TV programme. It always becomes a damage-limitation exercise, from what you hope to film to what you actually get.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m a calculating inquisitor who affects a pose to achieve his ends. The word ‘faux-naive’ is used a lot. It’s flattering that people think I have a plan but I’m as bumbling in real life as I am on camera.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Going to work on a weekly newspaper in San Jose, California, when I was 21. It was my first proper job and I discovered a love for journalism and America.
The song that means most to you...Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright by Bob Dylan. It’s about being heartbroken, and it reminds me of a turbulent romance ending when I was 25.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d have breakfast at the cafe in Roundwood Park near our home with my wife Nancy and our children – Albert, nine, Fred, seven, and Walter, who’s five months old. I’d have the full vegetarian breakfast – veggie sausages, tomatoes, fried eggs, baked beans and toast with coffee and tea. I’d then spend a few hours hang-gliding over London. Lunch would be oysters and champagne with Nancy at Grand Central Station’s oyster bar in New York, although I might start off with a Bloody Mary. We’d hang out with the kids all afternoon on Santa Monica beach and I’d have some fresh mango with salt and chilli. We’d drop the kids off with granny and go to the Louvre in Paris. We’d then wander around Le Marais district and have dinner at a bistro. We’d end the day with the kids in a town in Provence, playing pétanque with locals, drinking wine as the sun goes down on a summer’s evening.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Winning a Spelling Bee in New York when I was 25. I was against 15 other journalists. I won by spelling ‘shillelagh’ – an Irish walking stick.
The saddest time that shook your world...My parents getting divorced. I was about 22, but even when you’re an adult it’s upsetting.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To play tennis well. I go on court thinking I can execute great shots, but they end up hitting the net.
The philosophy that underpins your life...To be honest and kind. Sometimes for a journalist being honest means being unkind. It’s a conflict, but above all you must be honest.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d have a Quaker-style service on the South Downs in Sussex. People could share a few memories of me then throw my ashes to the breeze.
The way you want to be remembered...As a gifted athlete and artistic colossus. Failing that, as a thoughtful person.
The Plug...Transgender Kids, tomorrow, 9pm, BBC2. Louis’s archive documentaries are repeated on Tuesdays at 10pm on the Really channel.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 28 March 2015
Actor Richard E Grant:
‘My features suggest I’ve just heard bad news. But it doesn’t mean I’m not laughing inside’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s actor Richard E Grant’s turn
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...I’m haunted by the moment a doctor told my father, Henrik, that he only had months to live after he was diagnosed with brain cancer. To witness his absolute loss of hope was devastating.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Eating Christmas puddings once a month throughout the year. I stockpile them in the January sales.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Alice In Wonderland, which I’ve returned to time and time again since I was a boy. It’s a perfect guide to the British sensibility with sublime imaginative leaps and droll wit.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d fly around releasing fragrances that would prompt people to live their dreams. Nothing beats olfactory nirvana!
The prized possession you value above all others...My Pelham Puppets. I had a marionette theatre in my parents’ garage in Swaziland, where I grew up. I have 40 now and keep buying more.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Casual racism.
The film you can watch time and time again...Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway never ceases to make me laugh with its skewering of actors’ egos.
The person who has influenced you most...My wife Joan Washington. We began a conversation in 1982 and we haven’t stopped talking since. Her kindness and compassion never cease to surprise and amaze me.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Neil Armstrong. I was 12 when he stepped onto the moon in 1969 and hearing his voice from space on the radio made me want to be an astronaut. I’d love to hear every detail of his trip.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Everyone was your age once. Even if they appear crinkly, inside they’re not.
The poem that touches your soul...The Hollow Men by TS Eliot. It’s deeply moving.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Smelling things! I love putting my nose to flowers, food, fabric or the necks of people I like. Last year I fulfilled a dream and brought out my own fragrance, Jack.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...In 1986 our first daughter was born at 27 weeks and only lived for half an hour. You never get over the loss of a child, you learn to navigate your way around it.
The unending quest that drives you on...My father instilled in me that heaven and hell are to be found here on earth and that you only get one crack at it, so grab it while you can.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...Like everyone with a long face, my features suggest I’ve just heard bad news but it doesn’t mean I’m not laughing inside. Ha ha!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Getting the part of Withnail in Withnail And I in 1986. If Daniel Day-Lewis had accepted it when offered, I wouldn’t be answering these questions now!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d round up despots, starting with Mugabe, lock them in a room, each armed to the teeth, and let them sort themselves out.
The song that means most to you...When I was a waiter in Covent Garden in 1982, The Eurythmics’ Sweet Dreams played endlessly. It inspired me to believe that I’d make it as an actor.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend all day with Joan and our daughter Olivia, 24, beginning at dawn with breakfast on the terrace of The Gritti Palace hotel in Venice – fruit salad, croissants and orange juice. This would be followed by swimming on Macaroni beach in Mustique and lunch at La Petite Maison in Nice – truffle macaroni, tuna with their special sauce and mashed potatoes, then mango sorbet. I’d have an hour’s kip in a hammock at Steve Martin’s house in Beverly Hills, then a bike ride along Venice Beach with Steve giving a commentary on everyone we pass. Dinner would be with James Brolin and Barbra Streisand at their house in Malibu. Later I’d dance at the House On Fire club in Swaziland, then sleep in a tent at the Mkhaya game reserve. The next day would begin at 5am in a hot-air balloon over the Masai Mara in Kenya to view game.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The final day of filming my autobiographical film Wah-Wah in the Mkhaya game reserve in 2004 when a family of elephants appeared. It happened just as the film ran out.
The saddest time that shook your world...My father’s death at the age of 52 when I was 24. Although he was an alcoholic I remember his charm and provocative sense of humour most.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...I’d like to write and direct another film.
The philosophy that underpins your life...The here and now is everything. Make the most of it while you can.
The order of service at your funeral...I’m not ready to go yet!
The way you want to be remembered...Swaziboy was here and had the ride of his life.
The Plug...Richard E Grant’s 7 Deadly Sins is on Fridays, 9pm, Discovery Channel. Discover his fragrance at jackperfume.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 21 March 2015
MasterChef judge Marcus Wareing:
‘If someone cuts a corner in my kitchen I turn into Mr Shouty, but I’m always fair’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of chef Marcus Wareing
The prized possession you value above all others...My two-Michelin-starred restaurant Marcus At The Berkeley Hotel in London. I created it from scratch. It’s my life’s work and I love it.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not studying hard enough. I worked at my dad Raymond’s fruit and potatoes business when I was 11 and left school at 16 without qualifications to go to catering college, so I’ve had to catch up.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Not switching off my iPhone or iPad long after work. I do 16-hour days and I’m always thinking about business.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...A Kestrel For A Knave by Barry Hines. It’s about a troubled boy who bonds with a kestrel – Ken Loach based his film Kes on it. I read it when I was 12 and identified with the boy being a loner.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d spend the day in Google’s HQ in California to see what ideas they have in development. I’m fascinated by technology.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Mess and untidiness. I go to someone’s house and see the state of their kitchen and think, ‘Jesus Christ, why?!’
The film you can watch time and time again...The Wolf Of Wall Street with Leonardo DiCaprio. I love the way he motivates his staff to make money. The environment was similar when I was training to be a chef and I enjoy that competitive spirit.
The person who has influenced you most...The chef David Nicholls, whose son Dan broke his neck in 2003. He’s doing so much with his charity [Nicholls Spinal Injury Foundation]. David helped me when I was having a tough time. He’s special.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Maggie Thatcher at her peak in the 80s. I’d like to know how she remained so strong when she was fighting so many battles, like with the miners. She was unique.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Take advantage of your schooling – it will be the bedrock of your life.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To have been a top boxer. I started at nine and I was good, but I gave up at 17 when I moved from Southport to London.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Politics. I love the battle of it and the complexity of the issues. I see the country as a company, and it should be run like one.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My Nanna Emily, who died in her 60s when I was 11. She was great fun – I always asked her to take her false teeth out. I wish she’d lived to see me get on in life.
The unending quest that drives you on...To never give up.
The poem that touches your soul...I’m not into poetry but I love the hymn Lord Of The Dance. It reminds me of going to church at school for the Harvest Festival, which taught me the importance of giving back.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m Mr Nasty. If someone cuts a corner in my kitchen I turn into Mr Shouty, but I’m always fair. I can be very relaxed.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Working for my dad’s business as a boy. On Saturdays I did the deliveries with him on the wagon and I got to see inside kitchens at restaurants and hotels. I loved the buzz and it inspired me to be a chef.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...Speeding – and I would do it very regularly. I drive a Jaguar F-Type and I love speed. But I have a clean licence.
The song that means most to you...How Deep Is Your Love by the Bee Gees. It was the first dance at my wedding to Jane in 2000.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d begin at the top of The Shard in London to watch the sun rise, then go for a full English breakfast in the restaurant there. I’d then take Jane and our kids – Jake, 13, Archie, ten, and Jessie, seven – on a helicopter ride over Paris. We’d walk around the city before going to New York for lunch at Eleven Madison Park where I’d have the Tasting Menu and some wine. In the afternoon, we’d go skiing at Courmayeur in Italy. I’d stop for hot chocolate on the slopes. Later, I’d like a sail on a boat near St Tropez at sundown and some rosé wine before heading to Las Vegas. I love boxing, so I’d have ringside seats with my dad and brother Brian to watch Floyd Mayweather Jr fight Manny Pacquiao. I’d end the day with the family at the One & Only Reethi Rah hotel in the Maldives with a seafood barbecue and some decent wine.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The births of my three children and, professionally, taking over the lease of my restaurant Marcus in 2008.
The saddest time that shook your world...The attacks on New York on 9/11. It was the beginning of war on the West and it was devastating to see.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Work hard. Then work harder.
The order of service at your funeral...A simple church service followed by a cremation and I’d leave plans for a party with a fantastic meal. I want my ashes scattered in the South of France, so I’ll always be in the sunshine.
The way you want to be remembered...As a great father.
The Plug...Marcus owns three restaurants – Marcus At The Berkeley Hotel, The Gilbert Scott Bar and Tredwell’s. Visit marcus-wareing.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 14 March 2015
Wildlife presenter Kate Humble:
‘I know I look as though I haven’t brushed my hair for years – but I like being scruffy and caked in mud’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s wildlife presenter Kate Humble.
The prized possession you value above all others...Upper Meend Farm in Wales’s Wye Valley, which my husband Ludo and I bought in 2011. It’s harsh land but beautiful, and connects me with nature.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not going to see my dear friend Pablo in Peru five years ago when he emailed to say he was ill. He had hepatitis, but didn’t let on how serious it was. He died two weeks later – I was devastated.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Smelly cheese like Stinking Bishop or Roquefort. I can’t sleep properly for three days after I’ve eaten some.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The novel Picture Palace by Paul Theroux. It’s about a 70-year-old photographer looking back on her life. It’s funny and moving.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d disable the internet and all mobile phone networks to reintroduce everyone to the wonderful world that we live in.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...How the English Government refuses to charge for plastic bags. In Wales it’s making a tangible difference.
The film you can watch time and time again...Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid. Paul Newman and Robert Redford look so completely edible and it’s hopelessly romantic.
The person who has influenced you most...David Attenborough. I first met him at a dinner party when I was 27, before I was on TV. I was struck by how polite, modest and gracious he was.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Freya Stark, the 20th-century British travel writer who visited parts of the Middle East long before other Western women.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Always go with your gut feeling and never let anyone sway you.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...The circus. As a girl I dreamed of being a trapeze artist and I still love going to circuses – it makes me feel five again.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...That bounce in your body you have when you’re younger, which means you can fall over without hurting yourself. I’m 46 and if I ever fall in a heap nowadays people immediately think about calling an ambulance!
The unending quest that drives you on...To show the natural beauty of the world through my work, so people strive to help preserve it.
The poem that touches your soul...Silly Old Baboon by Spike Milligan is seared into my soul from my childhood and always makes me smile.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...Magazine editors always seem to think that I want a make-over, so I can be glammed up in designer dresses and wear Jimmy Choo shoes. I know I look as though I haven’t brushed my hair for years, but I actually like being scruffy and caked in mud.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Filming Lambing Live on a farm in Wales in 2009. I was driving there one morning at 5.30am and a light bulb came on – I suddenly knew I belonged on a farm.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d arrange the mass destruction of every plastic shower curtain in the world. Everything about them is disgusting.
The song that means most to you...The Muppet Show Theme – it always makes me feel perky. Our dogs, Badger, Bella and Teg, are known as The Muppets and we sing it to them every morning.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up at 5.30am in my camper van on the Gower Peninsula in South Wales, then Ludo and I would go for a walk with our dogs. Later we’d have lunch with friends at a tiny fisherman’s shack we own in the northern Dordogne, France. I’d buy food from the local market and we’d drink plenty of local wine, then go for a dip in the lake. After that, Ludo and I would go scuba diving in Papua New Guinea. In the evening, we’d go on safari at Luangwa Valley, Zambia, to watch wild dogs at twilight. We’d have fresh fish with flat bread for dinner cooked at the portside in Essaouira in Morocco, then watch the Northern Lights from the Yamal Peninsula in Siberia with a group of reindeer herders. I’d end the day in a hammock high up in a Canadian redwood tree.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...A night in September 2012 when I was driving a tractor as we cut hay on the farm. I had a dog on my lap and a bottle of cider in my hand as I drove under the stars. It was heavenly.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day Ludo’s sister Lucy died suddenly in 2006 when she was 40. She was so special and too young to die.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To ride in the Grand National like Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Take responsibility for your actions and never make excuses.
The order of service at your funeral...I don’t want one – no ceremony, nothing. My choice would be for my body to be left on a hill in Wales to be eaten by red kites, but I doubt it will be allowed.
The way you want to be remembered...Do you remember that girl on telly who never brushed her hair?
The Plug...The Humble By Nature Big Day Out is on our farm on 4 July. Join us for fun events for all the family. Book at humblebynature.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 7 March 2015
Actress Siân Phillips:
‘The misapprehension about me? That I’m Sheila Hancock!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of actress Siân Phillips
The prized possession you value above all others...A quick charcoal sketch of my late Burmese cat Barnaby by the artist Stephen B. Whatley. He was painting my portrait at home and when I left the room he drew Barnaby. I love it.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not asking my mother, Sally, about her life. I only know the bare bones of her story and would give anything to know more. She died in 1985 from lung cancer when she was 85.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Saying ‘Yes’ to challenging projects. I can’t stop myself, but I put myself under so much pressure. I’m 81, so I should know better.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Goshawk by TH White. It’s his own story about training a goshawk while he was living in the country and having a breakdown. It’s about a man right on the edge.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d shadow Mark Carney, the Governor of the Bank of England. I find his breezy Canadian charm intriguing.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Loud voices in public, particularly from girls. They’re not taught to cultivate the lower register as we were 50 years ago.
The film you can watch time and time again...The 1954 Japanese film Seven Samurai. It’s a wonderful adventure story about a group of Samurai trying to defend a village from bandits.
The person who has influenced you most...My mother for her work ethic and strength.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Sydney Smith, who was an English cleric and writer in the 18th century. He was one of the great wits of his time.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Get to know yourself.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...The Samurai fascinate me – I buy books to immerse myself in their fighting techniques, weaponry and rituals. They devoted their lives to an immense code – I find them so exciting.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A Louis XIV desk I bought in the early 60s for £700, which was a lot of money then. I took nothing with me when I left Peter [ex-husband, actor Peter O’Toole] in 1976. After that, the desk just got lost in the mix.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d fix the Lottery, so I could help people I care about – and keep plenty for myself!
The unending quest that drives you on...To deliver a performance that turns out exactly as I meant it to.
The poem that touches your soul...The Prelude by Wordsworth. It’s about being alone in the countryside and I identified with it because I grew up as an only child in a remote part of Wales.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m Sheila Hancock! I’ve known Sheila for 50 years and it’s happened many times. We laugh about it.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Getting into RADA in 1955 when I was 22. I’d always wanted to be an actress.
The song that means most to you...I love old Welsh songs about homesickness. They’re full of melancholy.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up in Connemara in Ireland and have a full Irish breakfast – black pudding, fried eggs, soda bread – followed by tea. Then I’d go for a walk in the rain by the Fan Lakes in the Black Mountains in Wales. I’d join a friend of mine in Venice for lunch at Trattoria alla Madonna, where I’d have squid in black ink with polenta. I’d spend the afternoon in London and have the best seats at a matinee at the Royal Opera House. After that I’d check into a quiet hotel I know on the East Side of Manhattan with my daughters Kate and Pat, and her daughter Jessica, who’s 15. I’d take my granddaughter to a cabaret at The Carlyle Hotel. If I could go back in time, we’d watch the great English singer Mabel Mercer perform. She was a sensation in the 1930s. I’d end the day at home watching The Big Bang Theory.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Finding my cat Barnaby after he’d been missing for three weeks in the early 1980s.
The saddest time that shook your world...The death from cancer in 2005 of my friend, the writer William Corlett. He was a wonderful, talented man who was funny and loyal.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To get a degree in science – but it’s quite unlikely now!
The philosophy that underpins your life...Choose happiness.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d like a simple service at the Actors’ Church St Paul’s in Covent Garden, then to be buried alongside my mother and grandmother in South West Wales.
The way you want to be remembered...I have no interest in being remembered. I want people to get on with living!
The Plug...Siân plays Fania Fénelon, the French musician who survived Auschwitz, in Arthur Miller’s Playing For Time at Sheffield Theatres, 12 March- 4 April. sheffieldtheatres.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 28 February 2015
Broadcaster Selina Scott:
‘Thankfully, I’ve reached that state of grace when, frankly, I don’t give a damn what people think about me’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s broadcaster Selina Scott
The prized possession you value above all others...My Scottish grandmother Beatrice’s press cuttings. She was a singer who performed all over Scotland from 1907-12. She left the book to me when she died in 1974 at 91.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Giving up ballet when I was 13. Margot Fonteyn was my heroine and I’d love to have followed in her footsteps, but I grew to be too tall [5ft 9in]. I was devastated to give it up.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...My Family And Other Animals by Gerald Durrell about his life on Corfu in the 30s. It’s full of innocence and laughter.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Opinionated twerps who cannot see the bigger picture. Local politicians are the worst.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...Steal Donald Trump’s hairpiece, then bury it in the sand dunes of Aberdeenshire – the unique landscape I believe he’s wrecking with his golf development.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Giving a home to animals at my farm in North Yorkshire. I have 11 goats, two cats, four dogs and several hedgehogs. I can’t take any more!
The film you can watch time and time again...Doctor Zhivago for Omar Sharif’s eyes! I once ran into him at a dinner and he paid me one of the best compliments ever. He’s a smoothie, but I won’t reveal what he said!
The person who has influenced you most...My father, Charles. I have three sisters and a brother and he imbued in us all a strong sense of independence. He died in 2008 aged 81.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Queen Boudicca. She wore a big gold necklace in battle, so I’d like to know what happened to it and to witness her legendary piercing stare.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Never let your chances, like sunbeams, pass you by.
The poem that touches your soul...The Soldier by Rupert Brooke. It is so moving.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Archaeology. My farmhouse is littered with Stone Age artefacts. I even discovered a 6,000-year-old flint axe head.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...The athleticism of my youth! I was a jolly good runner and I could even bend over backwards to walk like a crab.
The unending quest that drives you on...Turning my new luxury natural fibres business into a global brand.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...I’ve reached that state of grace when, frankly, I don’t give a damn.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Interviewing Prince Andrew on The Wogan Show in 1985, when he asked me for my telephone number. A vice president of the television company CBS saw the show and offered me a job in America.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d hack into the Government computer to change the Honours List. Virginia McKenna should be made a Dame for her Born Free Foundation.
The song that means most to you...My Luve is Like a Red Red Rose by Robert Burns. It’s followed me through emotional moments of my life.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up at the Wakaya private island resort in Fiji and have fruit for breakfast overlooking the South Pacific. No tea or coffee, I always have hot water first thing. I’d spend the morning scuba diving, then fly to Kenya to see the lions. I’d grab a quick salad for lunch before arriving on the Island of Bute in Scotland. I’d enjoy a cream tea at Kildavanan Bay, then sail in a small boat up the west coast. I’d pop to Whitby for fish and chips and a cup of tea. The day would end with a long walk on the North York Moors with my dogs Nip and Kiki before going to bed with a great book.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The last time I dived into the warm Mediterranean after a long cold winter in the North.
The saddest time that shook your world...Seeing desperately poor children in Ethiopia come alive with joy when they were given T-shirts and plastic footballs. I was on a relief mission with the Red Cross in 1985.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...Interviewing Prince Philip. He’s a fascinating man and I was disappointed to be thwarted by internal politics at the BBC after setting up an interview with the Duke for his 90th birthday in 2011. Fiona Bruce got the job, but I don’t hold anything against her for that.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d want it simple and for a choir to sing The Lord Is My Shepherd. Then throw my ashes to the wind.
The way you want to be remembered...I’d like a big bell cast and hung in Rievaulx Abbey on the edge of the North York Moors. When it rang out, it would echo through the loveliest of valleys.
The Plug...Naturally Selina Scott is my online company selling luxury socks, scarves and hats made from natural cashmere, mohair and, soon, yak! Visit selinascott.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 21 February 2015
Writer and comedian Barry Cryer:
‘I remember a boy at my infant school saying, "Your dad’s dead" and I punched him’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: writer and comedian Barry Cryer
The prized possession you value above all others...‘The Black Book’, an address book I’ve had for 20 years. My life is in it, if it was lost I’d be devastated.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not knowing my dad. He died when I was five, so I only have one or two memories of him, like us building an Airfix model plane, which I flew straight into the fire! His name was John and he died in his late 40s in 1940. My mother, Jean, never liked to speak about him.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Pork scratchings. They go so well with a pint that I’m prone to pig out!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Good Companions by JB Priestley, about a group of dancers and singers on the road. Priestley is my literary idol and we were friends for the last ten years of his life.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d follow Tony Blair to see what he says when the mask is off.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...People looking at their mobile phones when they should be talking to you.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Live for the moment, that’s all there is.
The film you can watch time and time again...Groundhog Day. It’s about a man living the same day over and over again, which should get tedious, but never does. And Bill Murray is superb.
The person who has influenced you most...My wife Terry. We married in 1962 and she’s very honest, whereas I can be devious. She’s kept me on the straight and narrow.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Churchill. He was such a charismatic man. I’d love to tease out the lesser known details of his life.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Spiritualism. I believe there’s something in it, but I think there are a lot of fraudsters making money out of people’s sadness.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My hearing. I’m 79 now and I struggle to hear conversation when there’s a lot of background noise.
The unending quest that drives you on...Survival – in both life and work. I’ve been in showbiz since 1956 and in this game you don’t retire, the phone stops ringing. It hasn’t stopped yet!
The poem that touches your soul...Willie Rushton’s version of the limerick about the young man from Montrose – but you couldn’t print it here!
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m Barry Took! I’m always mistaken for other people. I was introduced to Princess Anne at Comic Relief as Tooky. Three weeks later I saw her again and was introduced as Barry Cryer and she said, ‘You were Barry Took last time!’
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Having a drink with David Frost in Danny La Rue’s club in London in 1963. I was with Ronnie Corbett and David asked us to work on The Frost Report. I was catapulted to writing full-time for TV.
The song that means most to you...Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers. It reminds me of falling in love for the first time at Leeds University when I was 19. The girl broke my heart – she told me she was gay!
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...Terry and I would take the Orient Express to Venice. I’d have porridge, then fried eggs, bacon and fried bread on board. We’d wander around Venice, then pop to Sydney for a boozy lunch by the Opera House, I’ve never been to Australia. I’d have a BBQ-style lunch with a nice cold lager – Carlsberg, not that Australian Foster’s rubbish! Later we’d hang out on a beach in Oz with our four kids and seven grandchildren, aged seven to 23. In the afternoon, without the family, we’d see the sights in Vienna and go on the Ferris wheel that was in The Third Man. I’d have drinks with friends at the Gilded Balloon comedy venue in Edinburgh. In the evening, we’d check into The Algonquin Hotel in Manhattan. We’d have Dom Pérignon champagne, followed by decent chardonnay and the special of the day for dinner. We’d watch a Broadway show before heading back to our house in Middlesex where we’ve lived since 1967. These days I end every night out with a cup of builder’s tea.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The birth of my first son, Tony, in 1963 when I was 28. I finally had responsibilities, although I’m not sure it made me grow up!
The saddest time that shook your world...My father dying. I remember a boy at my infant school saying, ‘Your dad’s dead’ and I punched him.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To eat a prawn sandwich without some prawns falling out. I can never quite achieve it.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Think things are going to be awful, then whatever happens is usually an improvement and you cheer up.
The order of service at your funeral...It will be a humanist service, with people speaking about my life. I’ll pop up on a screen saying, ‘I know where you’re all going later: the pub! But I’m off for a drink with Eric Morecambe and Tommy Cooper.’ I want my ashes scattered in the garden of my local pub.
The way you want to be remembered...Family and friends have dominated my life, so to be remembered fondly by them is all that matters.
The Plug...Mrs Hudson’s Diaries – the life of Sherlock Holmes’s housekeeper as imagined by me and my son Bob – is out now, £12.99, therobsonpress.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 14 February 2015
Singer Sophie Ellis-Bextor:
‘I want to do a course to learn how to stuff a mouse but only if it died naturally’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of singer Sophie Ellis-Bextor
The prized possession you value above all others...A Blythe Doll from 1972. She has an oversized head with big eyes. I bought her for £300 on eBay 15 years ago – she’s worth £800 now.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not going to the funeral of a girl at school who died suddenly from a heart problem when we were 18. Loads of other girls went and I should have too.
The film you can watch time and time again...Grease. I first watched it when I was seven and loved it. I remember when Kenickie says his condom has broken I asked my mum what that was. She said, ‘A medal he got for sports!’
The temptation you wish you could resist...I’m addicted to eBay. I think I’m buying treasures, but other people might describe them as junk!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Tiger Who Came To Tea by Judith Kerr. My mother [ex-Blue Peter presenter Janet Ellis] read it to me when I was four and I read it to my boys [Sonny, ten, Kit, six, and Ray, two]. I loved that the little girl was called Sophie.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d stand on stage during a big West End show to watch the actors up close.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Trust your instincts.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Taxidermy! I’m fascinated by anatomy. I want to do a course to learn to stuff a mouse – but only if it died naturally!
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...When people say, ‘I’m going to give 110 per cent.’ Above 100 per cent doesn’t exist!
The person who has influenced you most...My parents. My dad Robin took me to my first gig when I was eight – to see Pink Floyd at Earls Court. Mum is a very optimistic person who taught me to look for the positives in life.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...The 19th-century American poet Emily Dickinson. I’d ask about the inspiration for her work, but she was a recluse so I doubt she’d want to see me.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...Dick Van Dyke’s autograph. I got it on a trip to New York aged 14. The box I kept it in went missing during a house move.
The unending quest that drives you on...Writing the next song.
The poem that touches your soul...Emily Dickinson’s Because I Could Not Stop For Death. I’m a bouncy, optimistic person, but this poem makes you think about the darker backdrop to life.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I always look perfect. People are surprised if they see a ladder in my tights, but while I’m often styled for TV, away from it I’m much more relaxed.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Releasing my song Groovejet in 2000. It was a success and it changed everything.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d paint a zebra crossing on a road near my house in west London because it’s a nightmare to cross with kids.
The song that means most to you...Mickey by Toni Basil. I love the odd choreography and the gurney faces she pulled in the video.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend the day going to places I’ve never visited. I’d be with my husband Richard and our sons and we’d wake up in Tokyo. We’d have sushi for breakfast, then wander around the city. After that, we’d arrive in rural Vietnam. We’d see the beautiful countryside, then have a stir-fry with glass noodles for lunch. Later we’d go to Delhi and see the real India. At sunset we’d head to a beach in Mexico. The kids would play on the sand while Richard and I relax in a cabana drinking margaritas watching the sun go down. For dinner I’d go to J Sheekey in Covent Garden for lobster and chips with champagne. Richard and I would end the day curled up at home watching a DVD.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...When I launched my last album Wanderlust last year. It was a big step because the work was so different and it was my first album not released by a major record label.
The saddest time that shook your world...My grandfather, Mike, dying in December last year. He was 83 and died from pneumonia. I miss him.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To play the piano. I gave up at Grade 4 when I was 14. I can play a bit, but I’m quite rubbish.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Cherish your relationships with friends and family.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d like Chopin’s Prelude in D Minor played and for my ashes to be scattered somewhere near the Thames.
The way you want to be remembered...She wasn’t bad at writing songs.
The Plug...Sophie Ellis-Bextor has designed Pretty Polly’s spring range of tights. Visit prettypolly.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 7 February 2015
Sky News presenter Kay Burley:
‘People say I’m po-faced, but they’d be amazed how naughty I am’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Sky News presenter Kay Burley
The prized possession you value above all others...My sense of humour! It’s essential for the job I do. The team at Sky are very serious, but in the downtime they’re hilarious. If it wasn’t for humour, I’d probably not be quite as sane as I am.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...My parents died quite young, so serious regret isn’t in my DNA. I live every day as if it were my last because one day it will be. That said, I wish I hadn’t bought my Range Rover Evoque last year. It cost about £40,000 and has been terrible. I’m going to replace it with a Porsche Macan.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. It’s the best love story ever told.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. It’s funny but deals with serious issues like ageing and unrequited love. Maggie Smith and Judi Dench are brilliant. I can’t wait for the sequel.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Having the last word, whether I’m arguing with friends or interviewing someone on TV. I can’t help myself.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d go to No 10 and listen to David Cameron to find out why he really doesn’t want to take part in the party leaders’ General Election debates. I think it’s because, as Prime Minister, he has the most to lose, but he can’t admit it.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Drivers at traffic lights who only indicate to turn right after the light’s turned green. You’re then stuck behind them if you want to go straight on. It drives me nuts.
The person who has influenced you most...My dad Frank. He was wise and had a great sense of humour, which my 21-year-old son Alexander has inherited. Dad died from a heart attack in 1995 at 65.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...There is no rush. Take your time, you have your whole life ahead of you.
The unending quest that drives you on...To be first with the news. If I’m beaten to it, I’m gutted!
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Formula 1 motor racing. I used to find it ridiculous and boring but I’ve grown to love it thanks to my son.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...The American writer Dorothy Parker. She was a great wit who’d be terrific company.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A 9ct gold necklace my mum Kathleen bought for my 12th birthday. It had my sign of the Zodiac, Sagittarius, on it but I lost it while playing in a park. I still think about it.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Covering the Herald Of Free Enterprise ferry disaster in Zeebrugge in 1987 for TV-am. I was a very a junior reporter but I volunteered to go. When I got back I was promoted to presenter and my career took off.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d break into Buckingham Palace and have a nose around. I want to know what the private rooms are like and if the Queen really keeps food in Tupperware.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m po-faced. People have a go at me on Twitter and say I’m too serious. They’d be surprised to know how mischievous and naughty I am away from the telly.
The poem that touches your soul...If by Rudyard Kipling. I first read it when I was 11 after my mum gave it to me. It’s a brilliant guide to how to live life.
The song that means most to you...Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. I remember watching the video on Top Of The Pops in 1975 and it blew my mind.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d corral all my friends at Heathrow and take a private jet to Ulusaba, Richard Branson’s game reserve in South Africa. We’d see the animals then have a big lunch in the bush. Antelope burgers are tasty, but I wouldn’t tell my friends what they’re eating. After, I’d leave my friends there and go to base camp at Mount Everest with my son Alexander. Later I’d trek along the Inca trail at Machu Picchu, in Peru. It’s meant to be quite a spiritual journey, so I’d go alone to give me time to think. After that I’d nip back to Ulusaba for cocktails with my friends. I’d end the day at home in London with my three Irish setters, quietly reflecting on an amazing day.
The happiest moment you’ll cherish forever...Ringing my mum on 12 April 1993 and saying, ‘It’s a boy. You’re a grandma!’ I didn’t know at the time but she was very ill. She’d had breast cancer when she was 50 and it had come back.
The saddest time that shook your world...Walking with my mum a few weeks later, pushing the buggy, when she told me about the cancer. I said, ‘I can’t manage without you Mum.’ She was my world. She died on 11 December when she was only 59.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...Never breaking 12 seconds for the 100 metres when I was a kid. The best I did was 12.4.
The philosophy that underpins your life...It’s Kipling’s line, ‘If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, And treat those two impostors just the same…’
The order of service at your funeral...Gin. Laughs. Gin. No songs. More gin – I just want people to get drunk and tell a few stories.
The way you want to be remembered...Great mother, loyal friend, dog lover.
The Plug...Kay Burley presents Sky News from 2pm-5pm Monday to Friday. Follow her on Twitter @kayburley.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 31 January 2015
Veteran broadcaster Michael Buerk:
‘People think I’m a bit of a snob…I’m not entirely convinced they are wrong’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s broadcaster Michael Buerk
The prized possession you value above all others...My Spitting Image puppet, which I bought at auction about ten years ago for £180. It makes me smile.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not asking my mother Betty about my childhood before she died of a heart condition when I was 16. I wanted to know about my father and how their relationship ended [Michael’s parents separated when he was three after his father, Gordon, was revealed to be a bigamist].
The temptation you wish you could resist...Sudoku puzzles. I do one every day and they make me believe that I’m clever, but they’re just a waste of time.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...The mangling of the English language. Top of my list is using ‘decimate’ to mean completely destroy something. It means to reduce by one tenth.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Passage To Juneau: A Sea And Its Meanings by Jonathan Raban. It’s a wonderful sailing adventure, but also an historical analysis of the British naval officer Captain George Vancouver.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d sit in a meeting of TV executives as they pick ‘celebs’ for a reality show. I’ve yet to find out why I was chosen for I’m A Celebrity.
The person who has influenced you most...My wife Christine. We’ve been married for 46 years and she never fails to tell me when I’m being an idiot.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My eyesight. I wore bottle-bottom glasses as a teenager which I blame – wrongly – for my lack of romantic success. I also failed my medical for the RAF because of it.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Samuel Pepys. He was an incredible gossip who would be wickedly fun company.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Butterflies. I was a keen collector as a child, and now I spot them with my grandchildren.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Churchill’s dictum, ‘The secret of success is to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.’
The unending quest that drives you on...To avoid being found out! Journalism is bluff; I hope to stay a step ahead.
The poem that touches your soul...Wilfred Owen’s Dulce Et Decorum Est. It distils the tragic gap between the leaders in a war and the soldiers.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My mother’s death. It made me wayward at school and left an enormous hole in my life.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I wish I’d tipped Jimmy Savile over the side when I met him on the QE2 years ago.
The film you can watch time and time again...Kind Hearts And Coronets with Alec Guinness and Dennis Price. It’s so deft and deliciously witty.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That because I was a newsreader I’m a self-important authority figure and a bit of a snob. I’m not entirely convinced it’s wrong!
The song that means most to you...Brothers In Arms by Dire Straits. It was the favourite song of cameraman Mohamed Amin, who filmed with me during the Ethiopia famine. That song reflects our camaraderie. He died in a hijacking in Africa in 1996.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d start with a canoe ride down the Zambezi with Christine and our twin sons Roland and Simon, who are 41 now. Breakfast would be a full English with HP Sauce at Il Blandford’s cafe in London. After that we’d check into the Singita Pamushana Lodge in Zimbabwe and go on a game drive. Lunch would be at L’Hirondelle restaurant in Monte Carlo, where I’d have lobster salad and Provençal rosé wine. In the afternoon, my four grandchildren, aged five to eight, would join us in Turkey on our boat Skysong as we sail around Skopea Limani. Later, Christine and I would drive along Chapman’s Peak Drive to Cape Point in South Africa, then we’d have tea at Belmond Mount Nelson Hotel in Cape Town. Dinner would be in London at the Garrick Club. I’d have the set menu with club claret.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Professionally, discovering my report about the famine in Ethiopia in October 1984 was having an impact.
The saddest time that shook your world...My mother’s death. My grandparents didn’t allow me to go to the funeral, which is a continuing regret.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To be made a member of the House of Lords, but I’d be completely unqualified.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Churchill again: ‘Keep b*******g on!’
The order of service at your funeral...I’d have an Anglican service with an African choir singing Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika (God Bless Africa). I’d be taken out to Show Me The Way To Go Home.
The way you want to be remembered...He tried to be a good son, husband, father and reporter.
The Plug...Michael Buerk presents The Moral Maze on BBC Radio 4 on Wednesday. Visit bbc.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 24 January 2015
Wildlife TV presenter Michaela Strachan:
‘People send me photos of obscure insects asking what they are, but I don’t have a clue’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Springwatch host Michaela Strachan
The prized possession you value above all others...As I’m a vegetarian, it’s my vegetable garden at my home in Hout Bay, near Cape Town in South Africa. It has eight tiered veg patches in which I grow everything possible.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not learning to play a musical instrument properly. I learnt the flute for a few years, but gave up when I was eight because it made my neck ache!
The temptation you wish you could resist...Singing Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody when there’s a karaoke night. It’s excruciating – for everyone!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Born Free by Joy Adamson. I read it when I was 12 and it fuelled my love of wildlife. I wanted to be Joy and have my own lion cubs.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To be Doctor Who’s assistant. David Tennant would be my Doctor.
The person who has influenced you most...My mum, Jo. She’s 75 and never sees the bad in people.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Humans hunting elephants and rhinos just to make chopsticks out of their tusks or grind their horns into medicine. It drives me insane.
The film you can watch time and time again...Monty Python’s Life Of Brian. I knew most of the dialogue even before I saw it at the cinema – my older brother Gary and his friends were obsessed with it and kept acting the scenes to me.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Dian Fossey [the US zoologist who protected gorillas in Africa in the 60s-80s]. She gave her life to save animals [Fossey was murdered in Rwanda in 1985].
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Cricket! I always thought it was boring, but my partner Nick and our nine-year-old son Ollie love it, so now I go to matches with them and enjoy it – though I often take a book!
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My flexibility. I trained as a dancer and used to be able jump off a table and land in the splits. Now I’m 48 I can’t do it any more.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Don’t judge people by your own circumstances. You have to broaden your knowledge to understand them.
The poem that touches your soul...I’m always moved by a poem I wrote about a baby orangutan called Lomon, who featured in a series I made called Orangutan Diary in 2007. It was about saving orphaned orangutans and I really connected with Lomon.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I know everything about British wildlife! People send me photos of obscure insects asking what they are, but I don’t have a clue. Chris Packham does know everything, so they should ask him!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Buying a holiday home in South Africa in 2002. Because I made that leap, I met Nick, then I moved there and we had Ollie.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d rescue all the moon bears in China and Vietnam that are locked up while tubes drain them of their bile to make medicine.
The song that means most to you...Tubthumping by Chumbawamba raised my spirits if I ever got low when I had breast cancer last year [she had a double mastectomy]. I’m doing really well now.
The unending quest that drives you on...To inspire people to care for and love the environment.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d live with Mongolia’s snow leopards. They’re very elusive and little is known about them.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d be with my family all day [Nick, Ollie, and Nick’s three children from his previous marriage – Jade, 26, and twins Tom and Sam, 24]. We’d watch the sunrise by a river in the Luangwa Valley, Zambia, and have coffee and rusks [African biscuits] before going on a walking safari. Later Nick and I would scuba-dive off Malaysia’s Sipadan Island – while the kids snorkel – among barracuda, turtles and sharks. After a quick veg stir-fry on the beach we’d go to Knight Inlet in Canada to see grizzly bears salmon fishing in the rivers, then take a boat trip to follow orcas and humpback whales. We’d end the day back in Cape Town walking up Table Mountain – you can see the sunset on one side and the moon rising on the other. At the top Nick and I would share a bottle of chardonnay and a packet of cashew nuts. Then we’d take the cable car down and head home to bed.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Finding out I was pregnant with Ollie when I was 39. I was filming in Vietnam when I found out and I ran around showing the test to all the crew!
The saddest time that shook your world...When I was 16, my dad lost his job and our family lost everything. It resulted in me suffering from anorexia. But we came through it all.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Always look on the bright side of life. The world can be a harsh place, but you have to find the positives.
The order of service at your funeral...I’ll be buried in a biodegradable box, or have my body fed to sharks! I also want people to be sad – having a party and getting drunk seems so disrespectful.
The way you want to be remembered... She got children interested in wildlife.
The Plug...Michaela will perform her children’s show Michaela Strachan’s Really Wild Adventures at zoos, wildlife parks and family festivals this Easter and summer. michaelastrachan.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 17 January 2015
Super chef Heston Blumenthal:
‘I’m obsessed with table tennis. It’s like meditating because you can’t think of anything except hitting that flipping little white ball!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s chef Heston Blumenthal’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...My OBE. I received it from the Queen in January 2006 for services to British gastronomy. It was unforgettable – one of my proudest moments.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...I believe regret’s a futile emotion because it’s carrying the past into the future. That said, I do regret blowing up the oven the day after I opened The Fat Duck [his three-Michelin-starred restaurant in Berkshire] in 1995.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Picking at food. I love to see how many flavours I can discover.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...On Food And Cooking: The Science And Lore Of The Kitchen by Harold McGee. I read it in 1986 when I was 20 and it affected me deeply. He wrote about the chemistry of food and challenged the accepted wisdom of how to cook.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Lewis Carroll. I’d love to ask what was really in his head when he was writing Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d go to one of my restaurants and freak out the chefs with daft pranks during service.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...I hate it when people are impolite and when someone takes the kudos for someone else’s work.
The film you can watch time and time again...Zulu with Michael Caine. I love how the soldiers fought against such odds. My dad bought a video recorder when I was ten and it was the first film we taped. I watched it 24 times!
The person who has influenced you most...Harold McGee. His writing reassured me that it was OK to challenge everything.
The piece of wisdom you’d pass on to a child...Blame, shame, guilt and fear are tied to the past. They’re not worth spending energy on.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...It may surprise people that I meditate. I’m all over the place because I’m so busy, but I’ve learnt to take time to be mindful.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My right hip! It had been damaged by osteoporosis and I had it replaced last year.
The unending quest that drives you on...To find answers to all my questions. I am endlessly inquisitive.
The poem that touches your soul...William Blake’s Jerusalem. The words carry a powerful metaphor about life. My eyes always mist up when I hear it.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m an über-smart scientist! My only A-level is in art. I just find knowledge wondrous and I’m enthusiastic and determined.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My first fine-dining experience at 16. My parents took me and my sister to France and we had dinner at L’Oustau de Baumaniere. The world of gastronomy was revealed and I knew I was going to be a chef.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...Speeding.
The song that means most to you...Father And Son by Cat Stevens. It reminds me of my dad, who died in 2011, and of my son, Jack.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...My day would begin at sunrise with my girlfriend Suzanne on Signal Hill in Cape Town, then I’d meditate on a beach. After that I’d visit Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo, where I’d buy fish for a sushi breakfast. I’d spend the morning skiing with my kids [Jack, 22, Jessie, 21, and Joy, 17] in Zermatt, Switzerland, then we’d ski in Courmayeur in Italy where we’d have lunch at Maison Vieille. I’d have white truffle spaghetti with Italian red wine. Afterwards I’d play table tennis with an instructor. I’m obsessed with it – it’s a bit like meditating because you can’t think of anything else except hitting that flipping little white ball! Later I’d visit the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) in Tasmania then go to San Sebastián for dinner with some chef mates. I’d end the day at midnight somewhere remote with the family watching the Northern Lights while cooking burgers on an open fire.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Personally, it’s the births of my children and, professionally, the day I got my third Michelin Star for The Fat Duck in 2004.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day in 2012 when two of my kitchen team died [a taxi carrying Ivan Aranto Herrera Jorge, 34, and Magnus Lindgren, 30, was hit by a bus in Hong Kong]. It’s made me understand what really matters in life.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To attain perfection in my work.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Question everything. I had a coat of arms made last year and that’s even the motto on my heraldry.
The order of service at your funeral...I just want there to be a lot of laughter and celebration. I know I’ve been really lucky, so I’ll have had no regrets.
The way you want to be remembered...As someone who lived in the moment, questioned everything and had fun.
The Plug...Historic Heston, a 21st-century take on British recipes from medieval times to the Victorian era is £40, bloomsbury.com/uk. Visit thefat duck.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 10 January 2015
Singer Paul Young:
‘I wish I could resist a big night out getting drunk especially when I end up on the tequila!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s musician Paul Young’s turn
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not writing more songs when I was young. I was happy to do cover versions because there were too many distractions, like going out, so I didn’t learn the craft seriously. It would have made a big difference to me financially.
The temptation you wish you could resist...A big night out getting drunk -especially when I end up on tequila! I used to party all the time when I was younger and I’d recover quickly. I’m 58 now and I only overdo it once a month.
The unending quest that drives you on...To keep discovering new music.
The film you can watch time and time again...One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. I love Jack Nicholson in that, he’s superb. It’s such a sad and moving story, yet it has great comedic moments.
The prized possession you value above all others...My Harley-Davidson Electra Glide motorbike. I bought it as a wreck in the 90s and restored it. I love the sense of freedom on the bike.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d sit among gorillas and lions without fear of being attacked. That would be fascinating.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse. It’s about a journey to self-knowledge. I read it in the 80s when I was experiencing fame for the first time and it taught me to appreciate it.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Violence against old people. These kind and helpless people have survived so much and they end up being attacked by some nasty piece of work.
The person who has influenced you most...My dad Tony. He’s 86 now and he taught the importance of good manners. I have a lot of respect for him.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Winston Churchill. I’d love to hear how he prepared himself to boost the morale of the troops in the darkest hours.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Always be polite.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...I’m desperate to learn how to sail a boat. I’m fascinated by the challenge of navigating the oceans.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My right ear! It got damaged in a car accident in Spain in 2012. I had surgery to repair it and I can still hear perfectly, but it sticks out. I’d like it to be normal again!
The poem that touches your soul...I’m moved by song lyrics, particularly Tom Waits’ Take It With Me. It’s about a man on his deathbed, wanting to take the heart of the woman he loves with him when he goes.
The song that means most to you...Wherever I Lay My Hat [his Marvin Gaye cover that reached No 1 in 1983]. It was a huge hit in the UK and launched me internationally.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Leaving my band The Q-Tips and signing my solo record deal. It was a new beginning.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That my record company styled me when I went solo in 1982. It all started because I wore a suit on the cover of my first solo album, but it’s ridiculous because I was wearing suits before that in The Q-Tips.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d pull off a bank heist, and steal enough cash to keep me and the family going.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d go to a little place in West Hollywood, LA, for a breakfast of corned beef hash with pancakes and coffee. Then I’d chill out on a beach in the Bahamas with my wife Stacey and our kids – Levi, 27, Layla, 20, Grady, 18, and Jude, eight [Stacey’s son from another relationship]. We’d go snorkelling, then have lunch in Sardinia, again by the sea. I’d have sea bream baked in salt with chilled local white wine. After that, I’d captain a sailing boat to Puerto Vallarta in Mexico. We’d settle in at a beach bar and listen to a band and Stacey and I would sink a few margaritas as the sun went down while eating local food. We’d end the day in Las Vegas. I’m not a gambler, but the mad atmosphere is such a laugh. We’d check into a high roller suite at the Bellagio hotel.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Marrying Stacey in 1987. She taught me to enjoy myself.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my bulldogs Ronnie and Nancy died. I was in bits.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To own a fabulous sailing boat. It will happen one day.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Keep moving forward.
The order of service at your funeral...I want a church service with New Orleans funeral jazz music. I’d like people to say a few words about me and I may have my ashes scattered in the sea.
The way you want to be remembered...He sang some sad and mournful hits, but he partied until the end.
The Plug...My band Los Pacaminos have an album, A Fistful Of Statins, out now and there’ll be a Paul Young solo album this year. Visit www.paul-young.com. Twitter @PaulYoungParlez.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 3 January 2015
Author Fay Weldon:
‘My unending quest is to write a sentence that says exactly what I intended it to’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s novelist Fay Weldon’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...A book called The Story Of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf, about a gentle bull who’d rather smell flowers than fight. My father Frank gave it to me for my fifth birthday and it’s the only possession I have from my childhood. He died from a stroke when I was 16.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Canapés at parties. They spoil your dinner and it’s easy to eat too many.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. I read it aged 19 and it showed a world dependent on drugs, which is what we’ve become, not least with statins.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d love to walk alongside a hurricane without getting hurt. Extreme weather fascinates me.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Choosing to play hockey at school instead of netball when I was 11. Hockey was full of brutish, angry girls; netball was for smart, skinny ones.
The film you can watch time and time again...Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It’s magical and brings back such happy memories of watching it with my boys [now aged 30-55] when they were growing up.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Think for yourself, and never believe what you’re told.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Because they’re utterly uncontrollable, volcanoes intrigue me, to the extent that every morning I check online to see the progress of Iceland’s Bardarbunga volcano.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Meeting my second husband, Ron Weldon, in 1961. Suddenly I was the wife of an artist, mixing with creative types. It was the beginning of a new life.
The poem that touches your soul...London by William Blake…It’s about the tragedy of city life, and it makes me cry.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...Serious people think I’m frivolous, frivolous people think I’m a serious, man-hating feminist. I’m neither.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...The magpies in our garden in Dorset. They’re thugs that scare off all the sweet songbirds I love.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A blonde-haired doll called Panama Polly, which my mother Margaret gave me when I was four. It went missing during a house move about five years go.
The person who has influenced you most...My mother. She was an intelligent, brave feminist whose strength of character rubbed off on me. She died ten years ago aged 94. I still miss her.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...William Blake. I’d want to talk about the inspiration for his greatest poem.
The unending quest that drives you on...To write a sentence that says exactly what I intended it to say. I’m 83 now but I write every day and it’s a constant challenge to think of the right words.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d make all the cash machines dish out as much money as possible.
The song that means most to you...Little Wheel Spin And Spin from the 1960s, by Native American singer Buffy Sainte-Marie. It’s simple yet profound.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...My [third] husband Nick and I would have breakfast at the Hotel Continental in Oslo. I’d have figs, mango juice, scrambled eggs, bread and croissants, with lots of strong coffee. After that I’d buy the finest bed linen at Liberty in London, then spend a fortune on the most delicate lingerie at Saks Fifth Avenue in New York. Lunch would be at The Ivy in London, where I’d have a vodka martini then fish and chips. Afterwards we’d tour Rome’s ruins with my four sons and six grandchildren, aged from 6-22, then eat ice cream in St Mark’s Square, Venice. At dusk I’d walk by the sea at Renvyle on the west coast of Ireland, where the singing of the seals sounds like mermaids. Dinner would be moussaka and chips in a taverna on Crete, where we’d all drink the local rosé and do some Greek dancing. My day would end back at home, reading a book in a deep hot bath. Bliss!
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Getting my CBE from the Queen in 2001. She said, ‘You’re the one who writes television plays’ and I replied, ‘I write anything they pay me to, Ma’am!’ It made her smile.
The saddest time that shook your world...My elder sister Jane’s death in 1969 from cancer when she was 39. It felt as though half of me died with her.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...I’d love to be a ruthless businessman like Alan Sugar.
The philosophy that underpins your life...What goes around, comes around.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d be taken out in a cardboard coffin to the Radio 4 theme tune Sailing By [played before the Shipping Forecast], and buried in the graveyard of a church I go to.
The way you want to be remembered...Oh, didn’t she die?!
The Plug...Fay’s new book Mischief, an anthology of her short stories with a new sci-fi novella The Ted Dreams, is published by Head Of Zeus in February.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 27 December 2014
Motor racing legend Sir Stirling Moss:
‘When I was 15 I read a book about a racing driver and was so amazed by all the crumpet he was chasing that I decided to become a racer’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: motor racing legend Sir Stirling Moss
The prized possession you value above all others...My ten Gold Stars from the British Racing Drivers’ Club for being the year’s top driver, starting in 1950 when I was 21 and the youngest to win one.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Retiring at 32 after a terrible crash in 1962. I was in a coma for a month and paralysed on one side for six months, and I was talked into making a rash decision. But I was at the height of my career and could have had another ten years.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Ordering ridiculous gadgets from those magazines that come free in newspapers. I’m a sucker for things like atomic clocks and foldable suitcases.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d sit among the tigers of Nepal. They’re quite extraordinary.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Road Star Hat Trick by Prince Chula. It’s about his cousin’s life as a racing driver in the 1930s. I read it at 15 and I was amazed by his stories of racing and chasing crumpet. That’s when I decided to be a racing driver.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Untidiness and disorganisation. I expect my PA to ensure my desk is clear when I come in of a morning.
The film you can watch time and time again...Top Hat. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are wonderful together and the music always puts a spring in my step.
The person who has influenced you most...My father Alfred. He raced in the Indianapolis 500 and was so encouraging of my career. He was like my best friend. He died in 1972 aged 76.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Fred Astaire. He was a fantastic dancer and actor and what a life he led. I used to be a fairly good dancer myself – maybe Fred could give me a lesson!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal a 1950s Ferrari racing car and drive it around Hyde Park as fast as I could.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Make sure you always tell the truth.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...My guilty pleasure is watching the courtroom TV show Judge Judy. It’s great entertainment.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My sex drive! I first lost the ability to have sex after I had my prostate out when I had cancer at 70. I took pills which solved it and even became the face of them. There was a billboard with my photo that said ‘Arise Sir Stirling’! But five years ago the pills stopped working – I ran out of steam.
The unending quest that drives you on...To keep busy. ‘Movement is Tranquillity’ is a motto I live by. I want to keep travelling the world having fun.
The poem that touches your soul...The only poems I’ve liked are the limericks my father taught me, but they’re far too naughty to repeat here.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m confident. I hate walking into a room full of people on my own.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...That crash in 1962 changed everything. It was great to survive, but it meant I gave up racing and suddenly had to work for a living. I went into the property business. It was a shock – nothing could live up to racing.
The song that means most to you...I’m Glad There Is You by Frank Sinatra. My wife Susie and I love it because it takes us back to when we were courting.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up with Susie on a Seabourn cruise liner sailing somewhere hot in the Far East, then have a full English breakfast, exotic fruit, and coffee, followed by a stroll on the deck. Later, I’d ski at Les Trois Vallées in France with my children – Allison, 42, and Elliot, 34, and my grandchildren – Oliver, 16, Emily, 12, and Katie, nine. Lunch would be gravadlax at Le Gavroche. I’d spend the afternoon on Copacabana beach with Susie and do some window-shopping. By that, I mean looking at the crumpet! Susie doesn’t mind because she knows it reminds me that I already have the best! We’d head to Singapore for dinner of black pepper prawns, sweet and sour pork and chicken with cashew nuts at a restaurant we love called Fatty’s. I’d spend the evening on a sunset game drive in the Masai Mara National Reserve in Kenya. We’d end the day sipping Pimm’s at a luxury lodge there.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Winning the Mille Miglia in 1955. It’s a 1,000-mile endurance motor race around Italy and I was one of the first non-Italians to win it.
The saddest time that shook your world...The death of my friend David Haines in 2009. He was 80 and had cancer. We’d been all over the world together and were closer than brothers.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...I wish I’d driven the Indy 500 – I never had the time.
The philosophy that underpins your life...I’ve always tried to live by two simple things: honesty and loyalty.
The order of service at your funeral...I’ll leave the details to Susie. She’s 23 years younger than me, so that’s a fair bet. Maybe my ashes will be scattered inside the racing circuit at Goodwood.
The way you want to be remembered...For being fast and fair.
The Plug...Please support the charity Hope for Tomorrow, dedicated to bringing cancer treatment closer to patients’ homes. hopefortomorrow.org.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 12 December 2014
Only Fools star John Challis:
‘Because of Boycie people think I know about cars. I’m clueless’
We ask a celebrity a set of probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Only Fools And Horses star John Challis
The prized possession you value above all others...My 12th-century home in beautiful Herefordshire. My wife Carol and I moved here 16 years ago and it has an extraordinary atmosphere. You can really feel its history.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Losing the £50,000 inheritance left to me by my mother. I helped a friend out on an aloe vera farming idea in Portugal. It was a con and I lost the lot.
The temptation you wish you could resist...I’m addicted to BBC1 antiques show Flog It! We bought some antiques from the presenter Paul Martin’s shop in Wiltshire and he brought them to the house himself. He’s such a nice bloke.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...First Light, Geoffrey Wellum’s memoir of being a Battle of Britain pilot. It’s very inspiring.
The person who has influenced you most...Spike Milligan in The Goon Show. His surreal humour lit a spark in me.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Avarice.
The film you can watch time and time again...Apocalypse Now. It sums up the futility of war and Marlon Brando is riveting.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Buying a copy of The Stage when I was 19 and doing odd jobs. I replied to an advert to be an actor in a travelling children’s theatre company and got the job. I’ve never looked back.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Charles I. I’d like to ask him why he wouldn’t compromise and avoid such a bloody civil war.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...I don’t have children but I tell friends’ kids never to be afraid of failure. Just have a go.
The poem that touches your soul...Ode To Autumn by Keats. It’s a beautiful summing up of nature that uplifts me.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Geraniums. I propagate them and give them as presents to people. I keep them for years. You’d think they were my children!
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My youth! I’m 72 and still have lots of energy, but everything creaks now.
The unending quest that drives you on...To stay alive! I’ve seen so many friends fall off the perch lately.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m a second-hand car dealer! Because of Boycie in Only Fools people think I know about cars. They’re disappointed when they discover I’m clueless.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d destroy every wind turbine intruding on our landscape. I think they’re grotesque.
The philosophy that underpins your life...How little can I do to get away with it? I’m quite lazy!
The song that means most to you...The Show Must Go On by Queen – the version sung by Paul Rodgers of Free after Freddie Mercury died. His voice gets to me and I love the sentiment.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I support Tusk Trust, which protects wildlife in Africa, so I’d infiltrate the ivory trade and take out the Mr Bigs who run it.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...Carol and I would have breakfast on the Orient Express on our way to Venice. We’d be in the Côte d’Azur carriage, designed by René Lalique, and I’d have scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. We’d spend all morning in Venice, which would be devoid of crowds, then take a gondola to the Cipriani Hotel for lunch overlooking the lagoon. I’d have roast chicken and vegetables with champagne. After lunch we’d head to Reid’s Palace hotel in Madeira for tea and a cheese sandwich. The hotel decor is a throwback to the 30s and 40s, a period I love. After that we’d arrive in Hawaii and meet friends for a ride in a traditional outrigger canoe. We’d have a party and watch the sunset with Piña Colada cocktails. Carol and I would end the day by checking into the Ava Gardner suite at the Hotel Splendido in Portofino, Italy. On this day, we’d be in the 40s and the hotel would be full of Hollywood stars of that era. I’d sip a chilled glass of Vin Santo and watch the fun.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Renewing my wedding vows with Carol in 1997 – two years after we got married. I’d been married three times – which I’m not proud of – and I felt like the luckiest man in the world to have finally met the right woman.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day my dad Alec died from a heart condition. He’d suffered from dementia for ten years. I felt guilty because I’d never really got to know him, or how he felt about anything.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To play Doctor Who. I was a henchman alongside Tom Baker in 1976, but to be the Doctor would really be something.
The order of service at your funeral...I want a wicker coffin covered in geraniums and a church service with Thank You For The Music by Abba and Here I Go Again by Whitesnake.
The way you want to be remembered...He had a go and made people smile.
The Plug...John begins his Boycie one-man tour on 23 January in Croydon. Visit www.wigmorebooks.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 6 December 2014
MasterChef presenter John Torode:
‘I love flying big hefty kites. I like the sense you’re going to be lifted into the air’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s MasterChef host John Torode
The prized possession you value above all others...My Condor bicycle. It’s hand-made specially to fit me. I eat a lot for my job so I cycle to stop getting fat.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Opening my first restaurant, Pasta Connection, in Melbourne when I was 20. I should have learned more about business before I took that step, but I was a total donkey. It went bust in a year.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Puff pastry. I love pasties, sausage rolls and especially Aussie meat pies with tomato ketchup.
The film you can watch time and time again...Crocodile Dundee. It’s corny but also brilliant and funny.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...To Kill A Mockingbird. I read it when I was 14 and it was an eye-opener. It was like voyeurism into another world. The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d just sit on the beach and relax. That’s one of my favourite things, but these days it’s impossible without someone asking for a selfie with me.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...People making a hash of expensive ingredients. I find waste abhorrent.
The person who has influenced you most...John Dench, the chef at Tsindos Bistro in Melbourne where I did my apprenticeship. He taught me how to cook, clean and how to listen.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...HG Wells. I’d love to know how he managed to come up with such amazing ideas for his stories.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Blow your own trumpet, otherwise someone will use it as a spittoon! My dad taught me that.
The poem that touches your soul...I like Ogden Nash because he’s funny. ‘The cow is of bovine ilk; One end is moo, the other is milk.’ Fabulous!
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Flying big hefty kites. I have one 9m long. I like to feel the power of the wind and that sense you’re going to be lifted into the air.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m gruff. I’m blunt on MasterChef because there’s no point wasting time with platitudes. But off the telly, I’m pretty nice.
The unending quest that drives you on...To never stop learning about food.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A St Christopher medal that I lost last year. Lisa [his girlfriend, actress Lisa Faulkner] gave me a new one and I keep it close.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d get rid of traffic jams and bad drivers in London.
The song that means most to you...Gold by Spandau Ballet reminds me of driving to the beach when I was 18, singing it at the top of my lungs.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My mother dying [Ann died from a heart condition when she was 31]. I was four at the time and I don’t remember it, but my two brothers and I moved away from Dad to be brought up by my grandmother. Nanna was wonderful and I had an idyllic childhood. I have a few memories of my mum but I’m not sure if they’re real or if I constructed them later when I was a kid. I visit her grave every time I’m back in Australia.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend all day with Lisa and my kids (two boys aged 19 and 17 from his first marriage, and a son, ten, and a daughter, eight, from his second). I’d begin with a swim on Manly beach in Sydney, followed by coffee and toasted banana bread in a cafe. I’d ski in Courchevel and have lunch at the Bel Air restaurant on the slopes. I’d have salad and steak-frites with mustard and good red wine. I’d spend the rest of the day chilling out on the Phi Phi islands in Thailand with the family. I’d get fish from the market and cook for everyone while I have a few cold Singha beers. The day would end with a swim in the sea at night as the water glows with phosphorescence.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Going to the beach in Australia as a teenager, sailing a boat, and hanging out with mates are the happiest moments I’ve had.
The saddest time that shook your world...I was upset when my Nanna died when I was 18, but she was 77, so I was prepared for it. I’m not sure I’ve had particularly sad times.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To do slalom waterskiing on one ski. I’d love to zip in between the buoys at full stretch, but at 49 I’m too old and afraid to do it.
The philosophy that underpins your life...In life, you get back what you put in. Put in a lot and a lot comes back. Give little, then very little comes back.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d want a very simple church service with people bellowing out hymns, like Bread Of Heaven. I’m undecided about burial or cremation, but I want to end up next to my mum in Morpeth, Australia.
The way you want to be remembered...There’s no need to remember me. I’ll be happy to just fade away.
The Plug...John has partnered with hot drinks machine Tassimo as one of their Perfect Host panel, to help teach people how to host the ideal gathering. Visit www.tassimo.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 29 November 2014
Naturalist David Bellamy:
‘I’ve loved ballet ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a dancer but I was too heavy’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s naturalist David Bellamy’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...A compass I bought for my wife on our 50th wedding anniversary in 2009. It’s the one that guided Henry Morton Stanley across Africa to find fellow explorer David Livingstone in 1871, and it makes me feel in touch with a very special happening in history.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Selling my Lotus Super 7 in the 1960s when we needed a bigger, more sensible family car. Being so low to the ground gave a great sense of speed.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Saying ‘Yes’ to all requests! I’m 81 but I love working and helping others.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...A Girl Of The Limberlost from 1909 by Gene Stratton-Porter, which I read with my mum as a boy. It’s about the destruction of trees in the US, and it made me want to read more about nature.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d visit Florence and see treasures such as Botticelli’s The Birth Of Venus without having to queue.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Boy racers playing loud bass music in fast cars.
The person who has influenced you most...My cockney granny Sarah Low. She lived with our family in south-west London during the war and took over. She was always there when you needed her and she got us through it.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Winston Churchill. I queued to see him lying in state in 1965. He was so concerned about our diminishing butterfly population he created a butterfly garden at his home Chartwell.
The film you can watch time and time again...Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I must have been about 36 when I first saw it but I was still mesmerised. What a car!
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Think for yourself.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Ballet. I read Noel Streatfeild’s Ballet Shoes when I was a kid and it inspired me to want to be a dancer, but I was too heavy – better built for rugby.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My sense of smell. I lost it when a hockey ball collided with my nose. Sadly I can’t smell flowers.
The unending quest that drives you on...To save all plants and animals from extinction around the world.
The poem that touches your soul...The Old Vicarage, Granchester by Rupert Brooke. It’s so moving.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m the Jolly Green Giant! I’m a botanist and an academic but I’ve been stuck with that nickname for decades. I’m not complaining though – it’s helped my career.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Getting a job as a school lab technician in Ewell, Surrey when I was 20. That’s where I met my wife and fell in love – and I still am! Rosemary is my pillar.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I would steal The Garden Of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch from the Prado Museum in Madrid.
The song that means most to you...Sparrows Can’t Sing by Barbara Windsor. It was the first record I bought, and it reminds me of carefree times with Rosemary before children came along.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d take in the dawn at the North Pole with Rosemary, then have a slap-up breakfast on the shores of Lake Huron, one of North America’s Great Lakes. We’d relive a trek we did on the West Coast of Scotland in our younger years, then climb Ben Lawers mountain; I’d have a nip of Springbank whisky to keep me going. A magic carpet would then take us and our children – Rufus, Henrietta, Brighid, Eoghain, Hannah – and our nine grandchildren aged from eight to 24 to an exotic beach in Malaysia. We’d all go snorkelling and look at wonderful marine life, then eat oysters for lunch. After skiing at Plagne Montalbert in France, with a break for my favourite andouillettes – tripe sausages – we’d take all the kids to Fortnum & Mason in London for cream tea and Knickerbocker Glories. I’d end up in Italy’s Apuane Mountains drinking red wine and watching the sunset.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Spending New Year’s Eve with my young family at Ayers Rock in Australia in 1978. It was hot, the light on the rock was incredible, and the family was together. A wonderful moment.
The saddest time that shook your world...My granny dying. It was as if the sun had gone out.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To be Father Christmas at Hamleys. Every child seems to think I’m Santa, so it would be good to actually do it one year.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Never give up.
The order of service at your funeral...I’m too busy living to think about it. But when it happens I hope it’ll be sunny and they’ll play Henry Burton’s hymn There’s A Light Upon The Mountains.
The way you want to be remembered...As a loving dad and grandad and a happy botanist who fought for conservation.
The Plug...Look at these two websites as proof that I’m still working hard! www.bna-naturalists.org, and www.conservationfoundation.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 22 November 2014
Royal commentator Dickie Arbiter:
‘I’ve been ice-skating since I was a child, I don’t do jumps but I love to dance on the ice’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Royal commentator Dickie Arbiter
The prized possession you value above all others...A silver apple engraved with the letter ‘D’ that Princess Diana gave me for helping with her first solo work trip to New York in 1989. I was media manager for Charles and Diana for five years.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...I wish I’d been a better dad. I was a single parent to my daughter Victoria after her mum and I divorced when she was three. I missed so much time with her until she was ten because of work.
The film you can watch time and time again...Zulu with Michael Caine. It makes me wonder what Southern Africa would be like today without the Zulu war.
The temptation you wish you could resist...German marzipan. It has a thin layer of dark chocolate and I can eat a whole box.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Scramble For Africa by Thomas Pakenham. I spent 13 years in Africa when I was young, and this tells how greedy Europeans developed the continent.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...If you want something in life, go out and get it.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Dirty shoes and nails. There’s a lot of scruff around these days.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d swim with hippos to see what they’re like up close.
The person who has influenced you most...My 93-year-old mother Ruth, who lives in a residential home in Zimbabwe. She taught me that anything is attainable if you really want it.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...King George VI. He was a shy man forced into the job because of the abdication, but he stepped up when our country needed him.
The unending quest that drives you on...To make sure the day isn’t wasted.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A pair of cuff links given to me by a girlfriend in 1965. They were stolen from my home in south London in 2002.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Ice-skating. I started as a child. I’m 74 now and still skate five times a week at 6am. I don’t do jumps but I like to dance on the ice.
The poem that touches your soul...Charles Wolfe’s The Burial Of Sir John Moore After Corunna, about the great general dying in 1809. It’s so emotive.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...I give the impression that I’m always right. In truth I probably am right – but not always!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My headmaster telling my mother that I must leave school before my O-levels because I wasn’t working. We duly went to live in Rhodesia, and leaving school without any exams made me live on my wits.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal a painting called Field Of Battle, painted by Queen Victoria’s eldest daughter Princess Victoria. It’s owned by the Queen and I saw it while working at Buckingham Palace. It depicts a woman holding a soldier who’s died in a battle in Crimea. I’m amazed how the Princess captured such anguish.
The song that means most to you...The Evening Hymn And Last Post. It’s usually played by a military band and reminds me that each day at sunset, someone somewhere’s lost a loved one.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d start the day with an early morning skate, then have breakfast of grapefruit, kippers and coffee at The Wolseley. Later my wife Rosemary and I would walk around Paris, which would magically have far fewer Parisians! We’d have lunch at Fouquet’s restaurant. I’d have oysters and steak tartare. I don’t drink alcohol much, so I’d just have Coca- Cola. Later we’d relax at a game lodge in Zimbabwe and go for a swim before heading out on a walking safari to see elephants at a watering hole at sunset. We’d end the day in New York having dinner at a simple diner with Victoria, who’s 40, my grandson Raff, who’s 11, and my son-in-law Ryan. I’d end up back at home completely knackered!
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The day I found my uncle Harry Stock’s war grave in Israel. He died aged only 24 in 1947 when he was with the British Army in Palestine. I last saw him when I was five. He was a wonderful man and I’ve always thought about him.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my dad, Hans, died soon after I turned six. He’d been terribly ill with TB and diabetes. Soon afterwards I was shipped off to boarding school, which was horrific.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To anchor a TV chat show. Do they hire old people?
The philosophy that underpins your life...Live it to the full.
The order of service at your funeral...No service, just a party. I want the song Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered, dancing and for people to get drunk!
The way you want to be remembered...Despite his bluster, underneath it all he was a pretty OK guy.
The Plug...My book, On Duty With The Queen is out now (Blink Publishing). Visit www.dickiearbiter.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 15 November 2014
Actress Rula Lenska:
‘People think I’m tough but in reality I’m a real softie’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s actress Rula Lenska’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...A tiny 2in by 2in book given to my mother, Bisia, by her sister Lula for her 23rd birthday when they were in Ravensbrück concentration camp in Germany. Lula had made it and added a story about St Peter writing Mamma’s name at the gates of Heaven. It’s the most moving piece of memorabilia. She gave it to me 15 years ago and I was so touched I cried. Sadly, Lula died in September aged 90.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day....I’d be a fly on the wall on a submarine in crisis. I’d love to see how the men react under pressure.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...That my mother was not with us when our family gathered at our ancestral seat in Poland. She’d died four months earlier in 1996. Mamma lived at that stately home until the Nazis invaded. We scattered her ashes beneath her favourite tree there.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Smoking. I gave up a year ago, but I still feel strong urges.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Princess Of Siberia by Christine Sutherland, about a Russian woman trying to find her husband who’s been sent to Siberia. It’s so reminiscent of what my family went through during the war.
The film you can watch time and time again...Quo Vadis. It’s a bit dated but I love Peter Ustinov as Nero.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Unpunctuality.
The person who has influenced you most...My mother. She came from an aristocratic background then lost it all and had to restart in England. But she never carried any bitterness.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Cleopatra. I’d love to see just how beautiful she was.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Professionally, it was getting the part in Rock Follies, the TV drama about a female rock band in the 70s. I went from being a jobbing actress to getting recognised in the street. Personally, it was visiting Tibet in 1991. I became a quasi-Buddhist. I chant every day.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...All alternative medicine, from acupuncture to massage.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Do as you would be done by.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...I will be very brave and tell you that it is my hearing. It has deteriorated over the last 10 years and I need hearing aids for both ears now. I can still hear birdsong and quiet music with them, but I struggle in rooms with lots of people and ambient noise. It has never stopped me working and it never will, but my business is fairly cut-throat and if you let people know that you have a problem of some sort, then they might use it against you. It is a mystery as to why my hearing started to go and may have been down to an ear infection I got whilst diving in Africa. Thankfully, it is not getting any worse, so it has nothing to do with old age.
The unending quest that drives you on...To have balance and harmony.
The poem that touches your soul...Chief Seattle’s speech in 1854, when the native Americans surrendered land to white settlers. It’s about how Man should live in harmony with nature.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d park on double yellow lines in London.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m tough. I give the impression of being in control and I’m good at the ‘Don’t mess with me’ face. But I’m a great softie.
The song that means most to you...Send In The Clowns sung by Glynis Johns. The words imply that however perfect things are in a relationship, the person you’re with is in another place, physically and mentally. It reminds me of my marriage to Dennis Waterman.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d begin with a safari on elephant-back in Chitwan park in Nepal. I’d then fly over Mount Everest to have a full English breakfast in Kathmandu. After that, I’d arrive in Monkey Mia on the west coast of Australia with my daughter Lara, 32, and my grandson, Ethan, two and a half. My mother would be back with us and we’d swim with dolphins, then have a fish barbecue. I’d have coffee in Piazza del Popolo in Rome, before seeing Verdi’s Nabucco at the Sydney Opera House. I’d have dinner in first class on a flight back to London with a few Wyborowa or Zubrowka vodkas and end the day at home in London with a hot water bottle, a book and a cuddle with my cat.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Standing in the water at Monkey Mia in 1987 with my mother while dolphins swam around us.
The saddest time that shook your world...My mother’s death in 1996 from emphysema when she was 74. She was too young. Her four children were by her side and it was extraordinary feeling of coming full circle. I was holding her hand as she died. There was a great sense of relief to see her pain and effort to breathe finally end. All the worry disappeared from her face and she looked 20 years younger and very peaceful. We were then able to brush her hair, put on her perfume and put her rosary on her hand. It was a special, holy moment for all of us, but then I was hit by devastating sadness. I still miss her enormously.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To play the queen of the vampires in a Hammer horror film.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Give positive and you get back positive. But the same goes for negative.
The order of service at your funeral...I’ll have a biodegradable coffin covered with flowers. It will be a Catholic and Buddhist ceremony with chanting and shamanic drumming. I’d like my niece to sing Pie Jesu and I want my ashes scattered in Poland with my mother, in Africa and in my daughter’s garden.
The way you want to be remembered...Game for a laugh, daring, loyal and fair.
The Plug...Rula is in The Frozen Scream at Wales Millennium Centre from 11-20 December and Birmingham Hippodrome from 7-17 January. Visit www.wmc.org.uk or www. birminghamhippodrome.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 8 November 2014
Singer and TV presenter Aled Jones:
‘People think I’m still a 13-year-old choirboy in a ruff. They see me in a pub with a pint and look shocked’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: singer and TV presenter Aled Jones
The prized possession you value above all others...The gold disc for my first album as an adult. It was released in 2002 when I was 31 and was called – imaginatively – Aled! As a child I’d sold seven million records, so it was a huge relief when that album went gold.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Turning down The Johnny Carson Show in America when I was 14. Neither me, nor my mum and dad had heard of him, so we said no.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Ginsters Cornish pasties! I drive a lot and I’m weakest at 1am when I stop at a motorway service station. Those pasties smile at me like the devil.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Bible. I’ve spent my life singing church music, so its spirit is seared onto my soul.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’m a big Arsenal fan, but I’m dismayed by our team of late, so I’d go into the dressing room at half-time to hear what Arsene Wenger says to them.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...All-vaulting ambition. You come across it a lot in ‘showbiz’ and it’s ugly.
The film you can watch time and time again...Die Hard. It’s kept me entertained on countless nights in hotels because it’s always on. Alan Rickman is brilliant as the baddie.
The person who has influenced you most...My wife Claire and our children Emilia, 12, and Lucas, nine. We got married in 2001 and I’ve been so happy ever since.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Freddie Mercury. He was such a showman, so a pint with him would be entertaining.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Treat others how you want them to treat you.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Wine and gastronomy. I’m not brilliant in the kitchen, but I’m getting better. I love wine, especially if it’s from Tuscany.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal a private jet.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...My boy soprano voice. I took it for granted.
The unending quest that drives you on...To be as good at my job as I can be.
The poem that touches your soul...For The Fallen by Laurence Binyon, about the First World War. It’s so moving.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...My voice breaking. It happened gradually after my 16th birthday, but we announced that I was retiring before it had gone. Not many careers end at 16. But it made front-page headlines all over the world.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To write more music and to have a go at breaking America.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m still a 13-year-old choirboy in a surplice and ruff! People see me in a pub with a pint and look shocked. I’m a middle-aged man of 43.
The song that means most to you...Walking In The Air. It’s played a huge part in my life. I even get builders shouting ‘I’m walking in the air…’ when I go by.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend the day with my family and start with a full English breakfast at The Olympic – a cinema and restaurant near my home in Barnes, west London. We’d sit outside because I love watching the village wake up. After that, I’d play tennis on Centre Court at Wimbledon, then we’d go to Circular Quay in Sydney for lunch. I’d have a Balmain Bug lobster and a few glasses of Australian sauvignon blanc. I’d have a snooze in the afternoon, then wake up on Macaroni Beach on Mustique. I’d swim, then sit on the sand with a cold beer as the sun went down. On this day, I’d see the optical phenomenon known as the ‘green flash’ as the sun disappears. In the evening, Marco Pierre White’s Oak Room restaurant would re-open in Piccadilly. I loved that place and on this night Marco would cook for Claire and me. Marco’s a friend and he said he used to listen to my music when I was a kid to calm him down after a night in the kitchen! I’d leave the menu to him, but we’d tuck into a bottle of Brunello wine. I’d end the day at home.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Getting my MBE from Prince William in 2013. I knew Princess Diana and had sung for her and Charles, so it felt like I’d gone full circle.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my grandmother Annie died when I was about eight. It was the first time I had to comprehend death.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Terry Wogan gave me this bit of advice, ‘Spread yourself as thinly as possible – then it’s very hard to get rid of you!’
The order of service at your funeral...It will be a church service, but I won’t be there, so I don’t mind what’s played or what readings there are.
The way you want to be remembered...As someone who tried, who was kind and, hopefully, made a difference.
The Plug...Aled Jones stars in White Christmas at the Dominion Theatre. Visit www.whitechristmasmusical. co.uk. His new album The Heart Of It All is out on 24 November.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 1 November 2014
Actress Patsy Kensit:
‘I wish I could erase the misapprehension that I got married lightly and quickly. Each time I married for love’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of actress Patsy Kensit
The prized possession you value above all others...Two objects made for me by my two sons. A small ceramic box in the shape of a heart with ‘I love you’ on it, made by James when he was seven – he’s now 22. And a stunning wooden dolphin that Lennon, who’s now 15, made two years ago. They’re priceless.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Turning down the part of Ross’s girlfriend in Friends in 1998. I was married to Lennon’s dad Liam [Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher] and our life was in London, so I said no.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Giant Toblerone bars. I see them in Aldi and throw them in the trolley.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Jennie by Paul Gallico. It’s about a little boy who turns into a cat. My mother read it to me when I was ten and we cried our hearts out. It’s so moving.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d come out of the house looking like a bag of laundry with no worries about being photographed.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...The lack of manners on the Tube. It can be pretty rough.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Royal Tenenbaums with Gene Hackman and Ben Stiller. It’s full of nostalgia, and dark humour. I’ve seen it at least 50 times.
The person who has influenced you most...My mum Margaret. She was told she was going to die of breast cancer when I was four, but she kept going for nearly 20 years. She never cried or got depressed, she just got on with life. She died when she was 54 and I was 23.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Jackie Onassis. She was so elusive and had such grace. There’s so much myth around her I’d love to hear the truth.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Sleep on it.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Tapestry. I’ve been doing it for years because it calms my mind. I’m currently working on some poppies from a John Lewis kit!
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A letter Ava Gardner wrote to me after we filmed The Blue Bird in 1974 when I was six. She called me ‘the sweetest girl’. One of our pets chewed it up years ago, I was heartbroken.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal Elizabeth Taylor’s Krupp diamond ring, given to her by Richard Burton. It was sold at auction in 2011 for £6 million. We played catch with it when we were filming The Blue Bird in Russia.
The unending quest that drives you on...To keep changing for the better.
The poem that touches your soul...How Do I Love Thee by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I’m a hopeless romantic and I relate to that sense of an all-consuming love for someone.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I got married lightly and quickly [Patsy’s been married and divorced four times]. Each time I married for love. Divorce is horrid, but I still believe in marriage.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Downsizing my house and scaling back on work after leaving Holby City in 2010. I became a hands-on mum and it’s been the happiest time of my life.
The song that means most to you...The Who are the greatest rock band and I love The Seeker for its energy.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I hate technology, so every gadget would be disabled in my house. I’d have a peaceful morning meditating and doing yoga. Later, a handyman would arrive and fix every single job in the house – in five minutes! I’d have lunch with the boys at Benihana in London. I’d have the filet mignon and prawns with mushrooms. Then we’d go to Sicily and check into Villa Angela – a hotel owned by James’s dad [Simple Minds singer Jim Kerr]. James is working there at the moment and loves it. We’d all climb up to Mount Etna. Dinner would be white truffle pasta at Bice in New York, then I’d go to The Book Of Mormon musical on Broadway which I’ve been dying to see. I’d spend the evening back at home in my flannelette pyjamas from Primark reading a book with just a rose-scented candle for company.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...When I got the all-clear from ovarian cancer in October 2013. It made me determined never to take another day of my life for granted.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day my mother died. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of her. My only wish is that I can be half the mother that she was.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To make a film directed by Ken Loach.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Treat every day as if it’s your last – because it could be.
The order of service at your funeral...I want it to be more celebratory. Everyone would get a shot of something to warm them up as they go into the church, then my coffin would come in to Pharrell Williams’ song Happy. Later, I want them to have a big party and get drunk.
The way you want to be remembered...For my boys to be proud of me and to think, ‘Yeah, Mum was there for us.’
The Plug...Patsy Kensit hosts Seven Deadly Sins Week each day from 2-9 November at 9pm on ID channel on Sky 522 or Virgin 214.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 25 October 2014
Gameshow host Richard Osman:
"The sadness day of my life? When my father told me he was leaving home. I remember every second in complete detail"
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Pointless co-host Richard Osman.
The prized possession you value above all others... My grandad Tom Wright’s six Second World War medals. He was a very special person in my life – he helped bring me up after my parents divorced.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Wasting ten years from the age of 17 being shy. I thought I was different because I’m tall [6ft 7in] and have nystagmus [a condition that makes his eyes flicker]. You learn later that everyone has things they’re embarrassed about.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Salt and vinegar crisps. I’d happily have them as my main meal.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... The Catcher In The Rye, which I read when I was 20. It was moving and funny.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d go into bankers’ offices, find their passwords and transfer a day of their wages to charity, particularly Child’s i Foundation, which finds families for orphaned children in Uganda.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... It sounds geeky but I love snooker. I’m encyclopaedic about it and go to watch the World Championships. I love how these guys have such mental strength.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... When people get angry if you disagree with them. Can’t we just agree to disagree?
The film you can watch time and time again... Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. It’s funny, charming and intelligent.
The person who has influenced you most... Tim Hincks, president of the TV production company Endemol, where I’m his deputy. I did a six-month trial at his company 14 years ago and I’m still there. Tim and I just clicked. We still do.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... I’d love to sit in a pub in Dickensian London and just chat to the regulars.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Never judge people by what they say, but by what they do.
The song that means most to you... Suede’s Metal Mickey. My brother Mat is the bass guitarist and seeing them on Top Of The Pops in 1992 was monumental.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... The cruciate ligament in my left knee. I damaged it playing football when I was 23 and it’s affected me ever since.
The unending quest that drives you on... To maintain happiness.
The poem that touches your soul... Wendy Cope’s Valentine is a very beautiful poem. If you want poems about love, Wendy’s the one.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... I wish the fact that I’m 6ft 7in was a misapprehension. People always comment on it and they mean well, but I’ve had it all day, every day, all my life.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Being born with nystagmus has made me the person I am. I can’t see properly. The world to me is like driving in fog – not that I’m allowed to drive!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d create my own airline tickets that automatically upgrade me to first class.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d have a lazy morning at home in west London, reading the papers with a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. Then I’d go for a walk at Chiswick House with my dog. I haven’t actually got a dog, but I’m dog-broody. After that I’d arrive in Dubai with the kids [a daughter, 16, and a son, 14. Richard is separated from their mother] and go to Wild Wadi Waterpark, which is a wonderful place. Later I’d walk along the Thames to Craven Cottage to watch my team Fulham play. I’d have a pie before the match and we’d win. After that I’d go to New York. It would be snowing and I’d go to an art house cinema to watch It’s A Wonderful Life. I’d end the day at home with friends drinking decent red wine and having a takeaway while we played games and had some laughs.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Watching Fulham beat Juventus 4-1 in a second-leg match in the Europa Cup in 2010, thereby winning 5-4 on aggregate.
The saddest time that shook your world... The day my dad told me he was leaving home when I was 10. I remember every single moment in complete detail. It was an awful, but I was brought up by a fantastic mother and grandparents and I’d like to say to any kid out there who is going through something similar, that it does get better. It will be OK in the end.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To get a tattoo, but recently my daughter said, ‘If you get a tattoo I’m going to take heroin.’ So this ambition may frustrate me a bit longer.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Try to be kind.
The order of service at your funeral... I want my coffin to come in to The Man Comes Around by Johnny Cash. I’ll create a quiz for the congregation, pitting one side of the church against the other. I’d like my ashes scattered in a garden of remembrance on the hills overlooking the sea at Brighton, which is where my grandparents are.
The way you want to be remembered... With love by my children and friends, and for them to remember I love them, too.
The Plug... The Very Pointless Quiz Book by Alexander Armstrong and Richard Osman is published by Coronet priced £14.99. It’s guaranteed to ruin your Christmas Day!
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 18 October 2014
Dr Miriam Stoppard:
‘People think I’m frivolous because I love fashion but I can be deeply serious too’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: childcare guru Dr Miriam Stoppard
The prized possession you value above all others...My collection of drawings, birthday cards and Thank You notes from my 11 grandchildren – aged six to 15. I look at them each day and feel loved.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Buying books. I buy four or five a week and my house has piles of unread or half-read books everywhere.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Florence Nightingale. She defied convention to succeed in a man’s world. I’d love to talk to her about the Crimean War.
The film you can watch time and time again...I love all Humphrey Bogart’s films, especially To Have And Have Not with Lauren Bacall. The sexual chemistry crackles.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The History Of Love by Nicole Krauss. It’s about love transcending time.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Not learning to speak Mandarin. I used to watch Chinese films in the 80s and have loved it ever since.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...People who feel the world owes them a living. I’m from a poor Geordie family and we had a strong work ethic. It was impressed upon me that you have to work.
The person who has influenced you most... John Ingram, my mentor when I was training to be a doctor in my 20s. He took me under his wing and lit the fuel in me to pursue medicine.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Be the best you can be and take failure in your stride.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...The origins of the universe. I could listen to Professor Brian Cox for hours. I love the science of working out how everything began.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A pencil drawing of a horse by the late artist and friend Elisabeth Frink. She gave it to me, but it was thrown out by mistake during a house move.
The unending quest that drives you on...Discovering knowledge, particularly about medicine. I’m 77, but my brain is as voracious as ever and I keep engaged.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m frivolous because I love fashion, make-up and hair. I love those things but I can be deeply serious.
The poem that touches your soul...Seamus Heaney’s Digging. He talks of his father’s ability to dig peat and shape earth, while he only has a pen.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Passing my 11-plus. We were from a slum area and my ambitions were not great. Passing that exam got me into Central Newcastle High School and a new life. I realised that by working hard and passing exams anything was possible.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...My life’s full of happy moments. A recent one was collecting my ten-year-old granddaughter Esmé from school when she told me she’d been voted Form Captain.
The saddest time that shook your world...When my son Will, now 42, got whooping cough when he was three months old. We had to rush him to hospital and he was put in an oxygen tent. I thought I would lose him.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d steal all the art squirrelled away in private collections and put it on display.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d watch the painter Frank Auerbach work.
The song that means most to you...Richard Strauss’s At Sunset. It’s about the brevity of life and how one day you’ll no longer see the things you most cherish.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up in a bolthole I own by Bamburgh beach, Northumberland, where I spent much of my childhood. I’d begin the day with my favourite walk to Stag Rocks then have a coffee and a croissant at Noel’s village shop, which hasn’t changed since I was a child. Later, I’d go fishing in the Bahamas with my husband Chris, Will and my other son Ed, 40. Their dad Tom [playwright Tom Stoppard] and I are great friends, so he’ll join us. Lunch would be with the wider family at my house in southern France. I’d prepare salad, vegetables and local cheeses and open some local white wine called Le Perlé. In the afternoon I’d go trekking in the Himalayas. In the evening, Chris and I would go to Opéra Comique in Paris to watch Debussy’s Pelléas Et Mélisande. I’d end the day with dinner at my friend Nicole Farhi’s house with girlfriends. She makes a delicious Provençal rabbit dish and she’d treat us to some wonderful wine.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To travel the trans-Andean train through Peru and Bolivia.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Onwards and upwards.
The order of service at your funeral...I just want a party, which can take whatever form my family decides. I’d like my ashes scattered at Stag Rocks.
The way you want to be remembered...For introducing the concept that women should choose how they give birth.
The Plug...I’m an ambassador for Shampoo Heads, quality shampoo and bubble bath for children. Visit www.shampooheads.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
What Turns Me On – Arlene Phillips – Uncut
The dance judge and choreographer needs the soothing sounds of Ed Sheeran, the joyful steps of West Side Story, radio plays and the secrets of magic.
TELEVISION
I am obsessed with minimalism, so I tune in to Grand Designs hoping there will be some fantasy home that you can only dream of. I really like Kevin McCloud – he is so bright and easy going – and I love the way the programme is set up. You always think the people are going to run out of money and never get to the end of the project, so there is an element of drama that draws you in and keep you watching. The best ones are when Kevin goes back two years later and the people don’t even like the dream home they spent all that time creating. I always find that quite fascinating. My home in North London is pretty bare. It’s a 1930s house, which I had gutted and re-styled. It wasn’t exactly on a Grand Designs scale, but it was a big enough job. Now, the house is all white walls and simple stone or wood floors, with very little furniture and no clutter. If I had my way I would live in a glass box!
I have been reading Agatha Christie books for as long as I can remember, so Poirot and Miss Marple have been enjoyable evergreens in my TV viewing since they started in the 1980s. They’re wonderful, harmless escapism. I like getting my teeth into a good mystery and I prefer one that is all wrapped up in a couple of hours. I am relieved to see how loyal the shows are to the books. The characterisations are spot on and I love the locations, the homes and the costumes. More recently, I have fallen for Sherlock. How they have taken that old story and knitted it into the modern world, with all its new technology, is quite extraordinary. Benedict Cumberbatch is absolutely brilliant.
THEATRE
Dance has been the constant thread throughout my life. In one way or another it has always been there and led me through the maze. A New York dance company called the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre has been a major inspiration in my career. I first saw them at Sadler’s Wells in 1970 performing Revelations – a series of dance suites about black African slaves. I was 27 at the time and it was such a powerfully moving piece that I left the theatre determined to go to New York and study with them. I saved up and did just that three years later. I used to see them dance regularly at Sadler’s Wells and I was always in the standing area at the back because that was all I could afford. They didn’t perform in London for many years, but I caught them at the London Coliseum two years ago and they are still fantastic.
Earlier this year I saw the perfect play – Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale – as a full-length ballet at the Royal Opera House and it was outstanding. I have always wondered how you could ever put a play as wordy as that into dance, with absolutely no dialogue, but it certainly succeeded. Christopher Wheeldon’s choreography was stunning and Ed Watson as Leontes was magnificent. It was the ultimate performance in a dance drama and I could hardly get up out of my seat when it was over.
MUSIC
When it comes to contemporary music, I’m really into Sam Smith. I could listen to his voice all day – it is so beautiful that I get lost in it. Another big favourite is Ed Sheeran. Funnily enough, I first came across him six years ago when I was doing the choreography on the ITV series Britannia High. Ed auditioned in Manchester, but he didn’t make it through because he needed to dance as well as sing. He played guitar and sang and right then I thought, My Goodness, this boy has got a bright future. His lyrics are very clever and I love the way he makes a story about everyday things, like in his song Lego House, which sets off a whole story in my head. It’s amazing what he has achieved, particularly in America, which is so hard to break.
Bizarrely, I generally listen to contemporary music on my computer at my desk because I see it as a part of my work. There’s a reason and a purpose to my listening, so I like to delve further into the words and understand how the music is constructed. When I am just pottering about the house I will have classical music on in the background and Mozart is a big love.
FILM
My favourite film of all-time is West Side Story. It is Romeo and Juliet taken to the limits on modern day streets with racial tensions and clashes. I first saw it when it came out in 1961 and I was blown away. It is still sensational – on stage or as a film – and I never tire of it. You have music by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and Jerome Robbins doing the choreography as well as co-directing with Robert Wise. I think Robbins was the guiding light, but you just pay homage to such an incredible team.
The film I have adored recently is The Grand Hotel Budapest. It has an unbelievable cast with the likes of Ralph Fiennes, Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, Adrien Brody and loads of others. It is a musical and visual feast and so gloriously strange. You wonder what on earth is going on half the time, but I love things that are odd and original. I was carried away by it and I still listen to the soundtrack a lot.
RADIO
I have been an avid fan of Just a Minute! on Radio 4 for as long as I can remember. Nicholas Parsons is extraordinary. To think, he’s 91 [on Oct 10th] and his brilliant brain is still whirring away as sharply as ever. He is such an amazing example for anyone worried about getting old. Paul Merton is wonderfully witty and quick, but I heard Sue Perkins recently and she really bowled me over. I knew she was smart, but, Wow, not that smart! After the show, I often test myself by picking a subject at random, then trying to talk for a minute on it. I sit there, by myself, talking against the clock. If anyone saw me, they’d think I had finally lost the plot!
The other staple radio regulars for me are the Today programme and Woman’s Hour and lately I have become quite fascinated by plays on 4Extra. I switch it on while I am cooking early in the evening and I become engrossed in the stories and these wonderful voices coming from the radio. It is like lighting a deliciously scented candle and letting the balm waft around the kitchen. The only problem is that I frequently don’t stick with it to the end of the play, so I have countless unfinished plays in my head!
ART
My dad was a barber, but his favourite thing to do at weekends was looking at art, so from about seven onwards I went with him to all galleries in Manchester all the time. We used to look at the Lowrys and dad would talk to me about the paintings and what to look for. The other person who taught me a lot about art is Andrew Lloyd Webber. I have known Andrew for years and he introduced me about the Pre-Raphaelites. He has a wonderful collection and his knowledge is incredible. He taught me so much about Burne-Jones and Rossetti and how Jane Morris – the wife of William Morris – became their muse. I have plenty of books on that period. That group of artists is endlessly fascinating – especially when you have someone like Andrew talking about it.
David Hockney has easily been my favourite contemporary artist since I met him in the mid-1970s. Wayne Sleep introduced me to him at a party in London and I was utterly mesmerised by hearing him talk about art. I remember him being excited about some new pens with brushes that he had just brought back from Japan. He was always looking for new ways in which to create his work – and he still is. I have gone to every one of his exhibitions in London since then, including the Blue Guitar series. I particularly loved The Bigger Picture exhibition at the Royal Academy in 2012. Those huge paintings of the woods in Yorkshire through the seasons were stunning. The colours, the leaves, the bare trees, the paths, I found it all so captivating. His energy and the way he keeps adapting is quite amazing.
BOOKS
Throughout my childhood, from as young as eight, I was consumed with books about relationships and families. I would wrap myself up in the characters of Little Women, Anne of Green Gables and Ballet Shoes. It was as if what they went through would begin to live inside me. There was often a lack of harmony in their families and their relationships and I connected with the girls who had ambitions and the courage to find their own way, whether it be to marry, to be an engineer and get educated, or to dance. I was somebody who wanted to fight against the odds to be a dancer.
I have always loved a good autobiography and I’ll consume them rapidly, whether they’re by great actors like David Niven and Steven Berkoff, or the marvellous wartime dancer Gillian Lynne. Currently by my bed is a very odd book called Sleights of Mind by Susana Martinez-Conde and Stephen L. Macknick, who are American neuroscience professors. It is about magicians and it reveals the science of how they trick your mind. I am fascinated by magicians like David Blaine and Dynamo and how they convince you they have made something disappear, even though you know it is not possible. This book explains how the brain works and how the illusionists change it to make you believe what they want you to believe. It is an entertaining book, but it’s also quite educational because it gives wannabe magicians like me a close-up on the secrets of magic.
Arlene Phillips is supporting Quit With Help, a campaign to help smokers stop for good. For a free quit plan visit www.quitwithhelp.co.uk.
Published: 11 October 2014
BBC economics editor Robert Peston:
‘My voice comes out stilted on the BBC, it’s not how I speak all the time’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: BBC economics editor Robert Peston
The prized possession you value above all others... All the letters and notes left by my wife Siân (author Siân Busby, who died of lung cancer at 51 in 2012). On the day of her funeral I came across the letters we wrote to one another in our early 20s, which was wonderful.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not working hard at Oxford University. In three years I only attended one lecture. I took far too keen an interest in wine, women and song. I had a wonderful time though.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... I’m obsessed with 70s music – new wave, punk, The Clash, Roxy Music and David Bowie. I’ve got 3-400 albums and often go to gigs by old bands like Blondie and the Pixies.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Chocolate ice cream. I have a habit of making late-night freezer raids.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Hardy’s Far From The Madding Crowd. I read it at 14 and was moved by its romance.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d attend a meeting between Arsenal manager Arsène Wenger and the club’s directors to see who’s responsible for our parsimony in the transfer market.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... People smoking outside buildings.
The film you can watch time and time again... DodgeBall with Ben Stiller and Vince Vaughn is a great family favourite. We’ve watched it countless times and it always makes me laugh.
The person who has influenced you most... Siân. She saw through my weaknesses, like my tendency towards vanity. She’d poke fun at me and made me understand that it’s more important to think about others than myself.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Karl Marx. I’d love to know what he makes of what Stalin and Mao did with his ideals of Communism.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... You have to respect yourself in life and, to do that, you have to respect others.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... Three rings I gave Siân, which were stolen in a burglary in 2012 – an engagement ring, a platinum wedding band that was my grandmother’s, and a gold one which spelt out the word ‘darling’ in semi-precious stones. I’d hoped to give them to the boys (Max, 17, and Simon, 28, from Siân’s first marriage).
The unending quest that drives you on... To improve the diagnosis and treatment of cancer. It’s not good enough.
The poem that touches your soul... Marvell’s To His Coy Mistress. It’s about how you must seize the day. It’s very romantic – and I’m a terrible romantic.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That the way I speak on the BBC is how I speak all the time. My voice comes out stilted when I’m broadcasting. I can’t explain it – something happens that makes me sound weird. But I’m not complaining because people recognise me and Rory Bremner does impressions of me.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Getting a job as a journalist on Investors Chronicle in 1984. I’d been a stockbroker, which I hated. Then I got the job on the Chronicle and discovered journalism. I’ve never wanted to do another job.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d imprison all of Black Lace the day before they were due to record Agadoo.
The song that means most to you... Here, There And Everywhere by The Beatles. Siân put it on a tape she made for me early on in our relationship.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d spend the day with Max and Simon doing a tour of cities. We’d start in Havana with fresh mangoes, which are delicious there. I’d seek out a decent cup of coffee, which is hard to come by in Havana. We’d walk around all morning then have lunch in Beijing. I’d get a Chinese mate to take us for a spicy Sichuan meal. Later we’d walk around the hutongs (ancient neighbourhoods) then visit the Forbidden City, which would be emptied of tourists. We’d have tea in Mumbai, then go to Istanbul for the evening. We’d walk round the sights then have a big dinner of local dishes, houmous and grilled meats with decent white wine. I’d end the day at home in north London.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When Siân and I got back together in 1994. We’d gone out in our early 20s, then drifted apart. We met up again in our early 30s and over dinner at The Ivy we worked out that we wanted to be together forever.
The saddest time that shook your world... The 3rd of August 2012 when Siân’s doctors said they couldn’t prevent the cancer from killing her.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To dive elegantly.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Try to do the right thing.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d like the Busch Quartet’s recording of Beethoven’s String Quartet No.14 Opus 131 played while people eat delicious food and drink the best claret.
The way you want to be remembered... For doing some decent journalism and for the charity I set up…
The Plug... Speakers For Schools provides leading speakers to state schools free. www.speakers4schools.org.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 4 October 2014
Magician Paul Daniels:
‘I wasted hundreds of thousands of pounds on flash cars in the 80s. I call it Clarkson Syndrome’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s magician Paul Daniels
The prized possession you value above all others...Two steel bowls that the British magician Robert Harbin used in a trick back in the 1940s. They were a gift, and they’re incredibly rare.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Checking Twitter and Facebook every morning when I should be getting on with work. It’s a big distraction, but I enjoy the interaction with people.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...John Northern Hilliard’s Greater Magic. It covers tricks, but also the meaning of life and how magic fits into it.
The film you can watch time and time again...The Wizard Of Oz. My dad Hughie was the projectionist at our local cinema [in South Bank, near Middlesbrough]. I was nine when I watched the film there and was amazed by it.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...The magician Mac King is a friend who does a skit in his Vegas show when he pretends to be invisible. I’d freak him out by being a real invisible man during that.
The song that means most to you...Handel’s Zadok The Priest. It was played at the end of my wedding to Debbie McGee in 1988.
The piece of wisdom you’d pass on to a child...Read as much as you can, and be sure to question everything you read.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Buying flash cars in the 80s and 90s. I had a Citroën Maserati, then a Ferrari and a couple of Bentleys. I threw away hundreds of thousands of pounds on what I call a Clarkson Syndrome.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...My own untidiness. Every day I promise to put things in the right place, but I don’t. So Debbie puts things away, which I struggle to find.
The person who has influenced you most...My father. He could do everything from mending cars to electrics. He inspired me to want to know more about things.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To appear in a movie.
The unending quest that drives you on...The pursuit of knowledge. But nobody likes a know-all, that’s why Debbie will never watch Eggheads with me.
The poem that touches your soul...I’m tickled by Ogden Nash’s work because of its silliness.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...The human memory. I’ve studied it and now coach people how to remember things.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...The tip of my left ring finger, which I accidentally cut off with a saw in 2012. Nerve damage means everything I touch with that finger feels like it has a hole in it.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I perform the same on stage as I did on TV. My live performances are way funnier.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Reading about the age prediction card trick when I was 11. I found a Victorian book with instructions on how to do the trick and it opened up the world of magic to me.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Kiss A Tit! Keep it simple, stupid, and think it through.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d wipe out the people who decided not to dredge our rivers. Our house in Berkshire was flooded because of them.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Stalin. I’d simply ask him why he murdered all those people.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d spend the day with my family including my three sons Gary, Paul and Martin, and my grandchildren – Martin’s kids Lewis, 15, and Camilla, 12. We’d have breakfast at the Magic Castle Hotel in Hollywood, then head to Disneyland followed by Knott’s Berry Farm, a theme park in California. Lunch would be in a Red Lobster restaurant in LA, then we’d head to Universal Studios stopping off at the Bates mansion from Psycho. I’d pop back to London for double egg and chips with white bread and butter at the Windows Restaurant at the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane. In the evening, Debbie and I would check into The Venetian hotel in Las Vegas then go and see O by Cirque du Soleil and Mac King’s magic show. We’d then relax at La Chevre d’Or hotel in Eze, in the South of France. I’d have a glass of sancerre on the terrace and watch the lights of the boats on the Mediterranean.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...Pulling off a tough gig in the 90s. The audience were bankers and aristocracy – people not known for laughing. But not long into the gig people were crying with laughter.
The saddest time that shook your world...The day my father died 20 years ago when he was 73. I felt like i had lost my best mate. I miss him, but I talk to him all the time. I’ll be making something and I’ll say, ‘Come on Dad, how do I do this?’ And he’ll help me.
The order of service at your funeral...I’d like a service at the Prince of Wales Theatre in the West End, with friends telling lies about how much they loved me. I’d like my ashes to explode over the Thames in a firework.
The way you want to be remembered...As the only man who lived to see the end of the DFS Sale!
The Plug...My new UK tour Back Despite Popular Demand is now on. Visit www.pauldaniels.co.uk. Twitter @thepauldaniels.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 27 September 2014
Sixties pop icon Sandie Shaw:
‘If I was invisble for a day, I’d forage inside you pants!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s singer Sandie Shaw’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...My Gohonzon [an ancient Buddhist scroll]. I’ve had it since I became a Buddhist when I was 30. I chant under it every day to focus my mind.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...That I didn’t appreciate my mother Rosie when she was alive. I was the apple of my daddy’s eye and Mum stepped aside so I could be a daddy’s girl, which must have been a sacrifice. She died 20 years ago from old age at 73.
The film you can watch time and time again...Ben-Hur. My dad, Pat, took me to see it at our local cinema in Romford when I was ten. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the action scenes.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...Alice In Wonderland. My godmother Auntie Doreen used to say, ‘If our Sandra can read and write, she’ll do alright in life.’ I was eight when she gave me Alice and it blew my mind.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Chocolate, especially dark chocolate with ginger.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day...I’d forage inside your pants! If that answer is not allowed, then I’d empty people’s wallets of all their cash, fill a room with the notes and roll around naked in it singing Big Spender. You don’t see real money any more, it’s all credit cards, which is a shame.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Trespassers. I can’t stand it when people walk across my land in Oxfordshire and don’t show it any respect.
The person who has influenced you most...A Japanese man called Kazuo Fujii, who taught me the concepts of Buddhism and how to apply them.
The poem that touches your soul...Cargoes by John Masefield. My English teacher Miss Parrot made us learn it parrot-fashion. It didn’t touch my soul but I remember thinking, ‘I don’t want to be like her, I want to do something more exciting.’ That was the moment I decided to follow my dreams.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Nelson Mandela. I feel sad that I never got to meet him. His achievements were extraordinary and he was so loved.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Judge somebody by what they do, not what they say.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Architecture. I’ve done a lot of studying and love drawing diagrams. I’ve designed a house that I’m going to build on my land in Grenada.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...The money my first husband lost! [Sandie was married to designer Jeff Banks from 1968-78]. I was rich but he lost the lot through not paying his tax. But I’m rich again now!
The unending quest that drives you on...To live up to my principles in an environment that is so unprincipled.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That Essex girls are stupid. I’ve come up against it all my life. I know I’m bright, but I’d erase that joke for other girls’ sakes.
The event that altered the course of your life and character...Being a mother. I have three grown-up kids [Gracie, Amy and Jack] and I see motherhood as one event that has shaped my life. I feel the same about being a grandmother [Sandie has four grandchildren aged four to eight].
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d park anywhere I want in central London.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d do totally new things. My husband Tony and the kids can come along if they want, but I don’t mind being on my own. I’d make a tour of forests and immerse myself in nature. I’d begin in a deciduous forest in England with a bowl of nuts and fresh fruit for breakfast, then go to a wood in northern Portugal, then one in Norway. In all of these places I’d forage for food and listen to birdsong. In the afternoon, I’d go to Sri Lanka for some mangoes and have a doze in a hammock. Later I’d go to Nepal to see the lotus tree where the Buddha became enlightened. I’d end the day in a wood in Japan sleeping in a treehouse.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...It sounds crass but making my new record. It’s the first time I’ve sung something that I’m totally proud of.
The saddest time that shook your world...Watching the news and seeing how mothers are suffering across the world in wars like in Syria.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To build my house in Grenada. After that I’ll have another ambition lined up that I will achieve. I believe in getting things done.
The philosophy that underpins your life...‘Nam-myoho-renge-kyo’, my Buddhist chant. It means everything and enables me to live to my full potential.
The order of service at your funeral...I honestly don’t care because I’ll be dead. It’s up to my family to do whatever is appropriate for them. But a few tears wouldn’t go amiss!
The way you want to be remembered...Just fondly.
The Plug... The new single Riot Pictures by Neil Davidge featuring Sandie Shaw is out on 6 October on 7HZ records. Sandie is currently celebrating 50 years in the music business.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 20 September 2014
Actor and comic Ben Miller:
‘Everyone thinks I’m Rob Brydon. Even Stephen Fry thought I was him at the BAFTAs!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s actor and comedian Ben Miller
The prized possession you value above all others... One of Eric Morecambe’s pipes. I bought it five years ago for a fortune on condition that I never reveal how much I paid for it or who I bought it from. I’m a huge fan of Eric’s and I treasure it. I keep it in a safe.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... That I’ve never had a fistfight! I had scrapes at school, but I’ve never punched anyone or been punched. I’ve missed out on a part of social discourse.
The film you can watch time and time again... Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid. Paul Newman and Robert Redford are the all-time great movie double act.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... The Fight by Norman Mailer. It’s about the Rumble In The Jungle fight between Muhammad Ali and George Foreman in Kinshasa in 1974. It captures the essence of fighting.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Cake, especially carrot cake from Gail’s bakeries around London.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Find what you love to do as a job and you’ll never have to work in your life.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d hang out with The Rolling Stones as they record an album. To see how they create their songs would be an amazing experience.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Bad manners. We’re all happier when we’re considerate to other people.
The person who has influenced you most... My father, Michael. He was a very principled, intelligent and funny man, who was also incredibly kind and giving. He taught me so much and, if I can be a quarter of the man he was, I will be very happy. He died of cancer in 2011 when he was 73. I had a terrible time dealing with it. I doubt I will ever really get over losing him. He was such a special man and a fabulous father.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Albert Einstein. I studied physics and did a PhD for three years. I’d love to hear Einstein’s take on the advancements since his work.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... The search for life on other planets. I think we’ll find something within 20 years.
The unending quest that drives you on... To create comedy that will stand the test of time.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... My first guitar, which was given to me when I was 14. It went missing about ten years ago.
The poem that touches your soul... Mending Wall by Robert Frost. It’s about two neighbours building a wall and reveals a truth about human nature.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m Rob Brydon! It’s extraordinary and I wish I could convince people I’m not him. It happens sometimes five or six times a day. Even Stephen Fry thought I was him at the BAFTAs last year.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d impersonate a detective during a gangland murder investigation. It would be incredible to see how murder teams work.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Meeting my comedy partner Alexander Armstrong in 1990. He was living on a barge in Chiswick and we clicked one booze-sodden evening. He’s like a brother – without him, I wouldn’t have a career or a life!
The song that means most to you... Love Minus Zero by Bob Dylan on his record Bringing It All Back Home. It’s so romantic. A friend read the words at my wedding to Jessica last September.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d watch the sunrise at Topanga Canyon in Malibu, then have breakfast at Made By Bob, a deli in Cirencester, Gloucester. I’d have pancakes, poached eggs, bacon, maple syrup and a double espresso. I’d walk that off in Gairloch in the Highlands of Scotland with my wheaten terrier, Ruby. Lunch would be with Jessica on the island of Ischia, Italy. After that, we’d drive from Cape Town to the Franschhoek vineyards to taste white wine. Then we’d head to Sydney where we’d be joined by our kids Harrison, who’s two-and-a-half, and Sonny, eight [from his first marriage]. We’d take a boat around Sydney, where I’d have cuttlefish for dinner. We’d end the day at the Shutters On The Beach hotel in Santa Monica. My nightcap would be a tonic water with lime juice and cane syrup.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Winning the 1,500m in 5 min 16 sec, aged 15, at school in Nantwich, Cheshire. My record still stands!
The saddest time that shook your world... Seeing the countryside where I grew up get over-developed. It used to be wild with hedgerows and rivers.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To be in a band. I was in one called The Dear Johns at college and that’s still what I’d love to do.
The philosophy that underpins your life... If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him! It comes from Buddhist teaching and is, of course, not be taken literally. It means always be mistrustful of anyone who positions themselves as a guru and says they have the answers.
The order of service at your funeral... I want the hymns How Great Thou Art and Jerusalem and a Monty Python sketch. I’m undecided about burial or cremation – I don’t fancy either.
The way you want to be remembered... With love and as someone who brought a bit of laughter.
The Plug... Ben’s movie What We Did On Our Holiday is out on 26 September.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 13 September 2014
Desert Island Discs’ Kirsty Young:
‘People think I’m standoffish. I should be more gregarious but I’m shy’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Desert Island Discs host Kirsty Young
The prized possession you value above all others... My family photos. They trigger so many memories.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not savouring my youth. I wish I’d appreciated being full of energy and not having responsibilities.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Sourdough bread and salted Irish butter. If I didn’t like it so much I wouldn’t have to go to the gym so much!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Nothing To Be Frightened Of by Julian Barnes. It’s an incredible memoir about how you deal with it when people close to you die.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Elizabeth I. She was a pioneer in a man’s world. And I’d like Elvis Presley to be with us too. He could paint my toenails, which he supposedly did for Barbra Streisand.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day... I’d love to be in the Today programme studio when a big story kicks off. I’m a radio nut and to present that programme is the absolute pinnacle.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Making my own jam and chutney. I got into it when we moved from London to Oxfordshire in 2011. It’s my secret ‘granny’ activity.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Seeing rubbish in hedgerows gets up my snout! I wish people wouldn’t abuse the countryside.
The person who has influenced you most... My mother, Catherine. She’s 72 now and we’re very close. She’s loyal, very stylish and has a terrific sense of humour. She also taught me how to be a mother.
The film you can watch time and time again... Woody Allen’s Crimes And Misdemeanours. It’s so clever and the acting is superb.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m a bit standoff-ish. I’m reserved, which is a Scottish thing, and that can be misinterpreted. I should be more gregarious, but I’m quite shy.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A pair of diamond earrings given to me by Nick [her husband, hotelier and club owner Nick Jones] and my daughter Freya [13] on the birth of my second child Iona [now eight] in 2006. A thief stole them from my bag five years ago.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Everything passes.
The unending quest that drives you on... To find the perfectly cut dark blue jacket! You can shove it over anything and you immediately look done.
The poem that touches your soul... Late Fragment by Raymond Carver. It’s very short – only 30 words – but it articulates how all of us want to be loved.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Meeting my husband 16 years ago. I’d gone to Babington House [one of Nick’s hotels] in Somerset with my sister, Laura. He carried my bags and had lunch with us. By the end of lunch he’d captured my heart.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Live your life kindly.
The song that means most to you... Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Andy Williams. It was played in the bar later that day when I met Nick. Everybody was having a big night and we were up on the tables and chairs singing, and he was sort of singing it to me.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal one of Samuel Peploe’s paintings from the Scottish National Gallery.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... The day would begin at home. Both my daughters would sleep late, then Nick would make us scrambled eggs. We’d take our dogs, a Labrador called Olive and a Maltese crossbreed called Pierre, for a walk then Nick and I would go for lunch with my Scottish family at The Shore seafood restaurant in Leith. Then we’d walk on the beautiful Gullane beach. We’d be collected at the seafront by a speedboat which would reappear on the northwest coast of Majorca, where we’d go swimming.We’d drop anchor at Cala Foradada and walk up the hill to a restaurant we know for some rosé wine. The day would end back at home. We’d have all the family there – including my two stepchildren – as well as the neighbours for a barbecue. I’d do salads, but Nick is head of operations on the wood oven. We’d laugh into the night with the kids running around us.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When I was six and I made Laura properly laugh for the first time by doing a funny voice. We’d found our secret language of humour.
The saddest time that shook your world... When the 11-year-old daughter of someone dear to me had E. coli seven years ago. We knew she could die and I felt totally impotent. Luckily she made a full recovery.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To do the perfect interview on Desert Island Discs.
The order of service at your funeral... I will have a humanist funeral. All I ask is that someone reads the poem When I Am Dead, My Darling by Christina Rossetti and that they serve Ruinart Blanc de Blancs champagne. I’d like my ashes scattered in our garden.
The way you want to be remembered... For small kindnesses.
The Plug... Meningitis Awareness Week runs from 15-21 September. Kirsty is a patron of the Meningitis Research Foundation. For more information visit www.meningitis.org.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 6 September 2014
Broadcaster John Suchet:
‘I would forcibly extract the tonsils of anyone who coughs during a classical music concert!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s broadcaster John Suchet’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others...My trombone. My mum Joan bought it for me when I formed a school jazz band aged 17. I still play it – badly.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend...Turning down the chance of a posting to Congo by Reuters when I was 26. My then wife, Moya, was pregnant and I needed to stay in London.
The temptation you wish you could resist...Brazil nut chocolate. As a kid I saw my dad eating some, pleaded for a piece, and it changed my life! No meal seems complete without it.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance...The Grapes Of Wrath by John Steinbeck. What Rose of Sharon does on the last page still moves me to tears. I won’t give away what she does, but it’s a remarkable act of compassion.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day...I’d fix every faulty London Underground signal and train so there’s no disruption for a day.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise...Smoking. Not just for what it does to the smoker, but for what it does to me if I get anywhere near them. My voice is my livelihood and smoking destroys it.
The film you can watch time and time again...Cinema Paradiso. The scene where the little boy, now a famous film director, returns to his hometown and looks towards the cinema where he befriended the projectionist brought tears down my cheeks.
The person who has influenced you most...My grandad, James Jarché, a press photographer. I listened enthralled as a child as he talked of his adventures. I’m sure that’s where I first got the urge to travel to far-flung places.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint...Beethoven. I’d ask, ‘Who was the woman we call the Immortal Beloved, the only woman who ever returned your love?’ It’s the greatest mystery of his life.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child...Blow your own trumpet – because no one else is going to blow it for you.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity...Snooker. My dad Jack was a gynaecologist who looked after world champion Joe Davis’s wife. He gave us a table when I was 14, and I was hooked.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again...A volume of short stories about Sherlock Holmes, a present when I was in hospital after knocking myself out at school. One day it just wasn’t there any more.
The unending quest that drives you on...To get just one radio link to come out as I want it to! They’re never quite as good as they were in my head.
The poem that touches your soul...I’ve never got poetry. Kipling’s If is probably the closest I’ve come to liking a poem, but I’d still probably prune a few lines.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase...That I’m ‘such a nice guy’. Really? You should see me when I get angry!
The event that altered the course of your life and character...The fall of Communism. I presented the ITN news from the Brandenburg Gate days after the Berlin Wall came down in 1989; I’d watched it go up when I was still at school in 1961.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it...I’d forcibly extract the tonsils of anybody who coughs during a classical music concert.
The song that means most to you...Unforgettable by Nat King Cole. I was playing it in my room as a teenager when Mum came in with tears in her eyes and told me her great secret. It stays a secret.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...After a lie-in (my days normally start at 5.30am to present Classic FM) I’d have a two-hour brunch, made by my partner Nula, at our Docklands flat. We’d go to Vienna for lunch at Zum Schwarzen Kameel, where Mozart and Beethoven ate, and then onto our hideaway hotel in the Bavarian Alps for a steam bath and massage. We’d see Beethoven’s Fidelio at the Sydney Opera House, followed by dinner in Saint-Paul de Vence, with views of the French Alps and the Med. We’d end the day watching the sun go down on the Kerala coast in India.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever...The first time each of my four grandchildren [from his three grown-up sons] called me Grandad.
The saddest time that shook your world...Watching my wife Bonnie suffer from dementia. Nula and I both have spouses in end-of-life care with dementia. They have no recognition, no bodily control, no dignity left, yet the priority is to keep them alive. We are kinder to animals. The Bonnie I remember no longer exists.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you...To be able to play any of Beethoven’s piano sonatas.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Live every day as if you will not see tomorrow. One day you won’t.
The order of service at your funeral...No funeral service, no mention of a deity, nothing religious.
The way you want to be remembered...Simply as a good broadcaster.
The Plug...John Suchet presents the flagship morning show on Classic FM, weekdays from 9am to 1pm, available on 100-102 FM, on the Classic FM app and at www.classicfm.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 30 August 2014
Veteran actor Bernard Cribbins:
‘Like anyone else I have my downs, and acting can be tough – I was doing a 70-hour week when I was 14’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s veteran actor Bernard Cribbins
The prized possession you value above all others... My TV! I spend too long watching it. Sport is my big thing. I’m a fisherman and even like watching fishing.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not learning to play the guitar properly. I used to play a few folk songs and some blues, but I broke my wrist in 1975 and haven’t played well since.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Milk chocolate. Mars, Snickers, Kit Kat: you name it, I’ll probably eat it.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Tarka The Otter by Henry Williamson. I read it aged 12 and loved the adventure. It set off my interest in fishing.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d watch a heart transplant operation. I had a triple bypass in 1998 and it saved my life. I’m 85 now and still going strong. Those surgeons are truly amazing.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Drivers who tailgate. It’s inconsiderate and unsettling.
The film you can watch time and time again... Singin’ In The Rain from 1952 with Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor. The song Make ‘Em Laugh is genius.
The person who has influenced you most... A theatre director called Douglas Emery, who ‘discovered’ me in a little play when I was 12 and told my parents I might have some talent. He was kind and caring and set me on my way.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... The actor Johnny Weissmuller. I loved him as Tarzan when I was a boy. I’d like to know how he got along with Cheetah, his chimpanzee sidekick!
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Listen to your mum. She knows best!
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... For 50 years I’ve been growing little trees and giving them to friends. One pal’s garden has a Cribbins Copse, containing birch, oak, ash and walnut trees.
The unending quest that drives you on... To keep working. I love the variety of my job – movies, stage, TV, singing – and don’t want to stop.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have gain... My knees! I’ve had them both replaced. They work well but I can’t kneel without feeling the metal.
The poem that touches your soul... Rudyard Kipling’s Tommy. It’s a bitter poem about the way some soldiers weren’t respected when they came back from WWI. It angers and saddens me.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That actors are permanently jolly and don’t have a proper job. Like anyone else I have my downs, and acting can be tough – I was doing a 70-hour week when I was 14.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Marrying my wife Gill on Saturday 27 August, 1955. She was an actress so she knows my trade well and has always been there for me and organised me. She’s made me a better person. She’s wonderful!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d fix the Lottery when it’s a mega jackpot. I’d keep half for us, then spread the rest to people who need it.
The song that means most to you... I’m choosing, very selfishly, one of my own: The Hole In The Ground. It got to No 9 in 1962 and Noël Coward even chose it for his Desert Island Discs in 1963. It brings back so many happy memories.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... Gill and I would have breakfast looking at the sea from the Mount Lavinia hotel, near Colombo in Sri Lanka. I’d have fresh pineapple with lime juice and some fine local tea. We’d then fly to Port Douglas in the north of Australia, where I’d catch a barramundi fish, which we’d have for lunch with chips at a café on the jetty. We’d pay a quick visit to the top of Mount Everest to enjoy the view without having to do the climb! Supper would be at a little Italian restaurant in Covent Garden. I’d have veal with prosciutto, then spaghetti with garlic sauce. We’d see Guys & Dolls at the National Theatre – with me in it! I had the best time ever playing Nathan Detroit there in 1983. I’d watch a bit of TV at home in Surrey before crashing out.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Completing my first parachute jump during my National Service when I was 18. It was exhilarating, but also a great relief to get to the ground.
The saddest time that shook your world... Watching my father die. He was 67 when he had a stroke. I was holding his hand when he disappeared.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... I’d love to be in a Western. I could be the old chap driving the wagon with the mules.
The philosophy that underpins your life...Do as you would be done by.
The order of service at your funeral... I’m a lapsed Catholic, so I’d probably have a church service – as I may be clutching at straws at the end! I’d like a friend to read Joyce Grenfell’s poem If I Should Go, for the line, ‘Parting is hell, but life goes on, so sing as well’. I’d want some classic guitar music from Big Bill Broonzy and Eric Clapton, and I’d like my ashes sprinkled on the Thames near the National Theatre – so they’d end up in the sea where I’ve enjoyed fishing.
The way you want to be remembered... As a good actor.
The Plug... Catch Bernard in Old Jack’s Boat daily at 12.40pm on CBeebies.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 23 August 2014
Straight-talking Baroness Trumpington:
‘Rafa Nadal picking his bum all the time really annoys me. My nickname for him is Piles!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Baroness (Jean) Trumpington
The prized possession you value above all others... My flat in Battersea, south London. I’ve been here since 1988. Every old bird needs a nest and this is mine.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not having more children. I have a son, Adam, so I’m lucky. My husband [historian and writer Alan Barker, who died in 1988] and I tried for another child, but it wasn’t to be.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Cigars. Twice a month I like a Cuban Cohiba – a big fat cigar for a big fat girl! I smoked 50 cigarettes a day, but I quit in 2001. Cigars are a naughty treat.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Alan’s The Civil War In America. It brings to life the tragedy of the war. He dedicated it to me.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day... I’d go to a men’s Turkish baths then become visible, just for the fun of seeing the shock on their faces!
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... If you are in any doubt, go by your instincts.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d have eggs and bacon with coffee for breakfast at The Farmers Club in Whitehall with Adam. I’d swim in Lake Como, Italy, before lunch at the House of Lords with Baroness Turner. She’s a great buddy, even though she’s a trade unionist! I’d have pan-fried skate with anchovies, salad and a carafe of white wine. After, I’d play tennis with Roger Federer at the River Club in New York, and I’d win. Later I’d wander around Turenne in France and have a glass of champagne. I’d have a spicy Bloody Mary at the Knickerbocker Club in New York, then dinner there with George Clooney. We’d have lobster and vintage Armand Rousseau Gevrey-Chambertin red wine. I’d end the day dancing at Annabel’s in London – with Mikhail Baryshnikov!
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Rafa Nadal picking at his underwear when he serves. I love tennis but I find that so unattractive. My nickname for him is "Piles"!
The unending quest that drives you on... To go to sleep at night with no regrets.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal a Rolls-Royce with a chauffeur and a police escort! I worked for the Queen in the 80s [as a baroness-in-waiting] and had to greet heads of state at Heathrow. Driving back to London with a police escort was thrilling.
The film you can watch time and time again... Casablanca. It’s so romantic. Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart are wonderful together.
The person who has influenced you most... Rab Butler [a Tory minister in the 40s, 50s and 60s]. He was a generous and wise advisor and friend.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Charles II. He turned England back into a lovely place to live after Cromwell. He was jolly attractive, so we’d probably have a good flirt!
The philosophy that underpins your life... Be prepared to take chances.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Needlepoint. I used to make cushions for rich friends with images of their fine houses, but I’m 91 now and my eyesight is bad, so it’s not possible.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... My mother’s and grandmother’s recipes dating back to the 19th century. They were destroyed in a fire. It’s very sad.
The poem that touches your soul... Rupert Brooke’s The Soldier. I lost three boyfriends at Dunkirk and another one and a cousin at El Alamein. I knew the pain of losing people I loved and that poem brings back the raw emotion.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I don’t get nervous when I’m doing public speaking. I’m all of a quiver beforehand.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Getting married in 1954 at the Royal Hospital, Chelsea. It was lovely to be able to share things in life, to love and be loved. Alan and I were very happily married and I miss him dreadfully.
The song that means most to you... J’ai Ta Main [known in English as Holding Hands] by Charles Trenet. I went to Paris after the war to study art and that song reminds me of a wonderful romance I had there.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... VE Day. I worked at Bletchley Park during the war and we had an early idea that it was to end, so I went to London. I danced all night and remember kissing lots of men.
The saddest time that shook your world... Selling our family home, Luckboat House in Sandwich, Kent, in 1988. I have happy memories of our lives there and I still miss it.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To be a portraitist. I studied art but I was a very bad artist.
The order of service at your funeral... The service will be at St Margaret’s, Westminster, with everyone singing All Things Bright And Beautiful and the Battle Hymn Of The Republic. I want my ashes scattered under a cherry tree in Kew Gardens that I planted in memory of Alan and where his ashes are.
The way you want to be remembered... For giving pleasure to other people.
The Plug... My two grandchildren have started businesses. Virginia’s furniture design business is 9191 (www.9191.co.uk) and Christopher’s personal training company is Over-Training (over-training.com).
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 16 August 2014
House of Cards author Michael Dobbs:
"My life changed when I was verbally beaten up by Margaret Thatcher in 1987"
We ask a celebrity a set of probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: House Of Cards author Michael Dobbs
The prized possession you value above all others... My family tree. It tells me where my parents came from, which gives me a greater understanding of them and, consequently, my own life.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not getting to know my mother, Eileen, better when she was alive. She died from ovarian cancer when she was 50 and I was only 26. She was a marvellous woman who did everything possible to raise her four kids, often as the main breadwinner. Whatever the Dobbs family is today, we owe to her.
The film you can watch time and time again... Casablanca. Play it again, and again, Sam! All the acting is magnificent, especially Humphrey Bogart’s.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Politics (Michael held senior posts in the Thatcher and Major Governments and is now in the Lords). It’s a rollercoaster ride and the pay is awful, but it’s endlessly fascinating. And it matters.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. I read it at the age of seven by torchlight under my bedcovers. It taught me that books are doorways to different worlds.
The crime you’d commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d lace together the boots of the opposition goalie so England wins a penalty shoot-out.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Intolerance.
The person who has influenced you most... Ernie Vale – my headmaster at primary school. He taught me there are consequences when you do wrong.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Jesus. I’d like to judge him as a man. I wouldn’t ask him anything, just listen and decide for myself.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Love your parents. If you can’t, then try and remember it wasn’t all their fault!
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Driverless cars, which will make traffic jams a thing of the past. I’m appalled by the time people waste driving.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... The ability to sprint across the rugby field. I was pretty speedy in my younger days and played prop for my county.
The unending quest that drives you on... To provide for my family.
The poem that touches your soul... The Listeners by Walter de la Mare. My son Harry, who’s 16, recited it for a school competition. It was beautiful.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m ‘Westminster’s baby-faced hitman’. That was a nickname given to me by a newspaper in 1987 when I was Margaret Thatcher’s chief of staff. Obviously, I had to be tough and sack a few people, but that was a long time ago.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Being verbally beaten up by Margaret Thatcher in 1987. She needed a victim and I was it. Two weeks later, I sat down to write House Of Cards as a form of therapy.
The song that means most to you... Adagietto from Mahler’s Fifth always brings tears to my eyes.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... To sit in a British woodland on a sunny spring day surrounded by wildlife – I’d marvel at the foxes, birds and deer.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d breakfast on muesli and Darjeeling tea on a balcony in Les Mazots de Gryon in the Swiss Alps, gazing at the mountains with my wife Rachel. I’d go snow-shoeing while my four sons (Will, 26, Mike, 24, Alex, 18, and Harry) skied like maniacs. I’d then have a massage while looking out on the wonderful landscapes of Vietnam. Then I’d go scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef and feed giant grouper fish hard-boiled eggs, which is thrilling. Teatime would involve a glass of ice-cold Mythos beer at Petros’s bar in Spartochori on the island of Meganisi, Greece. I’d then head to the Moon and sit alone, thinking and looking back at Earth. I’d have some nuts and a glass of good Gevrey-Chambertin red wine. I’d end the day with a walk on Mars.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... A day years ago when I was telling one of my sons off and realised I should stop being so pompous.
The saddest time that shook your world... The Brighton Bomb in 1984. Seeing what my friends Norman and Margaret Tebbit went through was awful. Since then I haven’t taken anything in life for granted.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To be 14st again, like I was at 19 when I rowed for Oxford. These days the scales are tipping 15st.
The philosophy that underpins your life... They’re coming to get you, so run as hard as you bloody well can.
The order of service at your funeral... I’ll be fired into space then have the best wake my Irish ancestors could devise.
The way you want to be remembered... Who cares? It’s what you do before then that matters.
The Plug... Watch House Of Cards on Netflix and read my novel The Lords’ Day. Visit www.michaeldobbs.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 9 August 2014
Inspector Morse author Colin Dexter:
‘People always think I’m cleverer than I am because of the Morse plots’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: Inspector Morse author Colin Dexte
The prized possession you value above all others... A signed first edition of AE Housman’s A Shropshire Lad. I have about 75 first editions, but I’d rescue that one if the house was burning down.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Having four operations on my ears in my 20s. I began losing my hearing at 18, but the surgery hurt and didn’t help.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Ginger nuts. I have diabetes but I find them hard to resist, and then my wife Dorothy tells me off.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Bleak House by Charles Dickens. It’s a masterclass in writing.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d see what life is like in private for the Queen and Prince Philip. I heard they liked Morse – maybe they watch Endeavour now!
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Litter. I’m 83 now and in a wheelchair, but each day Dorothy takes me for a walk and we pick it all up.
The film you can watch time and time again... The African Queen. It has such tension and chemistry.
The person who has influenced you most... My big brother John. We shared a bed for 19 years as we were so poor. One night, when I was 16, he woke me up playing Beethoven’s 7th. He was in tears and I was intrigued. Classical music’s been one of the great joys of my life. Sadly, John died two years ago.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Richard III. I’d love to know what happened to the Princes in the Tower (the sons of Edward IV who were put in the Tower of London by Richard, then vanished).
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... When I taught classics from 1952 to 1966, I’d tell my pupils that asking questions is vital.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Greek mythology – but I’ve forgotten much of it now, not least the names of Zeus’s 117 daughters!
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... The ability to follow The Archers. I loved it for 56 years, but gave up in 2011 because the female characters all sounded too similar. I really do miss it.
The unending quest that drives you on... To write the best page I can.
The poem that touches your soul... Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray from 1751. It’s so lyrical it’s like music when you read it.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Getting my first book, Liberal Studies, published in 1964 started my writing career.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m cleverer than I am! The Inspector Morse plots made people think I’m very smart. I’m definitely not as smart as Morse.
The song that means most to you... Something by The Beatles. It reminds me of my daughter Sally, because it was her favourite when she was young.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... It’d help if I were younger – so let’s say I’m 50! I’d start with porridge in a hotel in the Austrian mountains.Dorothy and I would go for a walk in the hills of mid-Wales and stop in Machynlleth for tea, then drive through Florida for some sun. Later, we’d have fish and chips at The Trout Inn in Oxfordshire, with Sally, 55, and our son Jeremy, 53, and his children – Thomas, 24, and James, 22. I’d paddle in the sea at Skegness, which I loved as a boy, and then see England win The Ashes at The Oval. I’d end the day at the Bayreuth Festival in Bavaria listening to Wagner’s Die Walküre.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal Vermeer’s The Milkmaid from the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.
I love it so much I put a print in Morse’s home.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Being given the Freedom of the City of Oxford in 2001. At the time, the only living recipients were Nelson Mandela and Aung San Suu Kyi.
The saddest time that shook your world... When my daughter’s dog Mycroft died. He was very poorly and he looked at me with such sadness as the vet prepared the needle. I could hear Sally, who was 13, weeping next door. It was one of the few times I’ve wept.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To be World Chess Champion. I was pretty good at school – but never good enough.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Initium est dimidium facti, which means ‘The beginning is half of the deed’. I’ve always found that the beginning is the hardest part of anything. Once that’s done, I’m off and away!
The order of service at your funeral... I’d have a simple service with the hymn O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go. I don’t believe in the afterlife – so for all I care you can put my ashes in the dustbin.
The way you want to be remembered... As a good teacher.
The Plug... Colin’s book Cracking Cryptic Crosswords is published by Offox Press, £7.99. www.offoxpress.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 2 August 2014
Tennis Ace Pat Cash:
"I’m a Reiki Master and heal people by channelling the universal energy"
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. Here, former Wimbledon Tennis Champion Pat Cash serves up his answers…
The prized possession you value above all others... Three electric guitars given to me by great rock guitarists – Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath, Glenn Tipton of Judas Priest and Mick Cocks of Rose Tattoo. I play guitar and music is my big passion in life. Those guitars are all black and make a lot of noise.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Losing a match point against Ivan Lendl in the US Open semi-final in 1984. That haunted me for years, but it ultimately helped motivate me to beat him in the Wimbledon final in 1987.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Kettle chips. I always have a bag in my pantry. If I need to lose weight they’re the first things I sacrifice.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... I’d ask Jesus, Buddha and Krishna for advice on how to save the world from the mess we’re in.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... A Course In Miracles by Helen Schucman. It’s has 365 daily lessons to help your spiritual transformation. It’s helped me be a happier person.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... I’d love to learn to fly a small plane and then jets.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Shoes left by the front door. My kids [Pat has four: Daniel, 28, and Mia, 26, by a former partner, and twins Shannon and Jett, 19, by his ex-wife] did that for years. I’d walk in and the door would hit them and rebound in my face. They knew Dad was home when the shoes got kicked around!
The film you can watch time and time again... Forrest Gump. It’s funny but sensitive too, with real depth.
The person who has influenced you most... Two tennis coaches guided my career and my life – massively. Ian Barclay got me through to the Wimbledon final. And recently Brad Langevad has kept me injury-free and still playing.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... The coolest chunky silver bracelet I bought in Mexico. It’s the only bit of expensive jewellery I’ve ever bought, but it was stolen.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Trust your instincts and try not to judge yourself too harshly.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... I’m a Reiki Master, which is a form of healing by channelling the universal energy. I got into it in the late 90s – I’ve helped a lot of people but I don’t practise it as much these days.
The unending quest that drives you on... To understand the big questions in life. I may never find the answers, but I’ll learn while looking.
The poem that touches your soul... I’ve never really got poetry, but songs move me. One Of These Nights by The Eagles has really powerful lyrics.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d go back to the 2000 presidential vote in Florida and rig it so Al Gore won, not George Bush. Bush caused irreparable damage with wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. I’d like to see what the world would be like if he hadn’t become president.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m an outspoken loudmouth. In Australia anything I say gets turned into a ridiculous headline. I speak my mind, but I don’t say anything for the sake of it.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Winning Wimbledon. I was 22 and my dad said I could live off it for the rest of my life. He wasn’t far wrong!
The song that means most to you... Exciter by Judas Priest. I heard the roaring guitar of that song when I was 16 and it changed my attitude to music. I’ve loved rock ever since.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d hang out with tigers – without the fear of being eaten.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d have breakfast at home in south-west London. I make great wheat-free pancakes with maple syrup. I’d then go hiking in Bryce Canyon in Utah. I love its stone sandcastles whipped up by the wind. I’d meet up with all my kids and my two grandchildren [Mia’s children, Talia, four, and Patrick, one] in St Anton in the Austrian Alps, which is beautiful. Later, I’d go scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef, then have a few beers on a beach in St Vincent in the Caribbean. In the evening, I’d go and see the American rock group Cheap Trick play at the House of Blues in LA. I got the idea for the chequered headband I wear for tennis from them. I’d waste the night away watching them rip it.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When my son Daniel was born on my 21st birthday. Watching him arrive was astonishing.
The saddest time that shook your world... The three years between 1996-98. My marriage was falling apart, my career was coming to an end, and I was deeply depressed.
The philosophy that underpins your life... This too will pass.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d have a simple service in Melbourne where I was brought up, with some great music, wine and food. I’d like my ashes scattered on the ocean.
The way you want to be remembered... As a great dad and a loving friend.
The Plug... Pat is part of family festival Sportfest, sponsored by Weetabix, on 2 and 3 August. Visit www.weetabix.co.uk. Download Pat’s Tennis Academy App via www.patcash.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 26 July 2014
BBC TV presenter Matt Baker:
‘I got the bug for auctions from Dad – the other week I bought an accordion I can’t even play’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s TV presenter Matt Baker’s tu
The prized possession you value above all others... My wedding ring. It’s made from ten links of the chain on my maternal great-grandfather’s fob watch.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not finishing a Paratroopers cross-country course on Blue Peter in 2004 (Matt was a presenter until 2006). I gave up with 150m to go. The sergeant major bawled, ‘Baker. You’ll regret that for the rest of your life!’ And I have.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Robin Hood. I’d like to know if he really existed.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Buying things at auctions or on eBay. I got the bug from Dad – he once bought the contents of a school library! The other week I bought a mother-of-pearl accordion I can’t even play.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... The children’s book Old Farm, New Farm by Felicia Law, which I read when I was seven. It’s about a farmer who renovates his farm. It inspired me to do jobs around our family farm in County Durham.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d watch spies being briefed at MI6, then follow them to see them carry out their orders.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Litter. If I see someone dropping it, I ask them to pick it up.
The film you can watch time and time again... Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It’s a great comedy and I was called Ferris at school because I looked like Matthew Broderick in the film.
The person who has influenced you most... Either of my parents – Mike and Janice. I get a love for animals from Mum and my work ethic from Dad.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Luck is a lifetime of preparation for a moment of opportunity.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Painting. I’ve always loved drawing and recently I started painting as a way to relax. We’ve converted our spare room into a studio.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... An orange Tonka Toy tractor with a trailer that went missing 20 years ago. I learnt how to reverse with a real trailer by playing with it.
The unending quest that drives you on... To not waste time and always make the best of my abilities.
The poem that touches your soul... Anthem For Doomed Youth by Wilfred Owen. The way he describes the horror of war is so haunting.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I just turn up in front of the camera on Countryfile and say some lines off the top of my head. I spend a lot of time preparing and thinking about what to say.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... The day my mum took me to a gymnastics club when I was six. After that gymnastics was my life. I trained hard and became British Junior Champion but I had to give up when I was 14 because I had anaemia.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d love to devise an ingenious bank robbery.
The song that means most to you... Billy Ocean’s Love Really Hurts Without You. I was in a dancegroup in my teens and we danced to it in clubs. My wife Nicola was in the crowd one night and that’s how we met.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d start at dawn in Wyoming herding cattle on horseback like a cowboy. Then I’d have breakfast on the west coast of Scotland. I love the mountains. I’d have a full Scottish fry-up with haggis and I’d be joined by Nicola and our kids Luke, seven, and Molly, four. Then we’d cram into an Aston Martin DB5 and drive through the English countryside to London where we’d take a private jet to Vietnam for a lunch of fish and chips on the floating communities at Ha Long Bay. I’d go snowboarding in Canada in the afternoon, then meet the family for tea at a watering hole on safari in Tanzania. Nicola and I would have prosecco by the Grand Canal in Venice, then take the Orient Express back to England. They’d serve roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for dinner with fine wines. I’d end the day at my local pub in Hertfordshire with a pint or two of ale.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When I got a perfect ten for my floor routine in the National Gymnastics Championships when I was 13. It was a dream come true.
The saddest time that shook your world... The day my Border collie Meg was put down three years ago. I’ll never forget watching her eyes close.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To take my wife and kids to the places I went to when I was presenting the Blue Peter Appeals. I saw people in the remotest places who have tough lives. It taught me how to appreciate what you have.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Push yourself to your limit – you have more to offer than you imagine.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d have a church service, but I’d want it to be uplifting. I’d like my ashes scattered outside our farm in Durham so the wind takes me across the countryside.
The way you want to be remembered... As someone who had a go and inspired others to have a go too.
The Plug... Matt Baker is presenting the BBC’s gymnastics coverage at the Commonwealth Games. He also presents The One Show and Countryfile on BBC1.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 19 July 2014
Hairy Biker Dave Myers:
‘I used to deal in antique ceramics in the 80s. Now I have about 200 pieces’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Hairy Biker Dave Myers’ turn
The prized possession you value above all others... A Breitling Colt watch which my wife Lil and Si (King, his sidekick in The Hairy Bikers) bought for my 50th birthday. It was very generous.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... That I stopped painting after I left Goldsmith’s art school. It was my dream to be a professional artist. But I went in a different direction.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Fattening foods like fish and chips, pies, beer and pork belly. I love them, but I got fat and unhealthy, which is why we started The Hairy Dieters. I’ve gone from 18st to 14st 12lb recently.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Jupiter’s Travels by Ted Simon, about his four years travelling the world on a motorbike. It opened up my eyes to what was possible on two wheels.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d stand on stage at an Aerosmith concert and play air guitar alongside Steve Tyler and Joe Perry in front of 10,000 screaming fans.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Racism, particularly towards immigrants. Lil is Romanian and there are too many sweeping statements about nationalities that cause a lot of hurt.
The person who has influenced you most... Phil Eaton, my art teacher at school. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy place and so inspiring.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Don’t fret about something that may never happen.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m a Geordie! People come up to me and say, ‘Howay, man, it’s great to meet a fellow Geordie’, but then I have to disappoint them. I’m born and bred in Cumbria.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Antique ceramics and glass. I have about 200 pieces. I owned an antique shop in the 80s, so I always had to sell things I liked. Now I can buy stuff and not have to sell it.
The film you can watch time and time again... Breakfast At Tiffany’s. Audrey Hepburn is fabulous. I’ve seen it 12 times, but it still makes me weepy.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal a Suzuki Hayabusa motorbike and take it for a fast ride on the motorway.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A train set my dad bought me when I was three. I sold it for £45 when I had my antique shop and I’m sad I let it go.
The unending quest that drives you on... To never lose my love of cooking.
The poem that touches your soul... Auguries Of Innocence by William Blake. He can sum up the whole cosmos in four simple lines.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Meeting Si on the set of the Catherine Cookson series The Gambling Man in 1992. He was ordering a curry for lunch when everyone else was having salad. We got talking and became inseparable.
The song that means most to you... Crazy by Gnarls Barkley. It was everywhere in 2006 when I met Lil in Romania. Whenever I hear it now it gives me a happy glow.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To ride in the Isle of Man TT Race. It’s utterly thrilling.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... The painter and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti. I’d ask him about the women he hung out with – and why he loved his pet wombat so much!
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d start the day with Lil at Sharrow Bay Country House hotel at Ullswater, Cumbria, where I’d have a Cumberland breakfast – bacon, sausages, the works, and a pot of coffee – served on Royal Worcester china.Then we’d arrive in Cape Town and pick up a Harley-Davidson and ride into the Great Karoo desert. Elevenses would be a bacon and banana sandwich on dark South African bread. Then I’d go fishing for tarpon at Barra del Colorado in Costa Rica with Si and some mates. Later, I’d check into the best suite at the Faena Hotel in Buenos Aires and have a bottle of Bollinger. After that I’d dance the paso doble with my Strictly partner Karen Hauer at Sadler’s Wells Theatre with Brucie in the stalls. Supper would be in Venice with Penelope Cruz. Lil would understand and there’d be no hanky panky. I’d take her to the fish restaurant Trattoria alla Madonna. We’d drink Tears of Christ (Lacryma Christi) white wine and have spider crab. I’d meet Lil later at Deauville for a glass of calvados.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When our producer rang to say The Hairy Bikers show had been commissioned in 2005. I was a make-up artist on Spooks at the time.
The saddest time that shook your world... The day my fiancée Glen (short for Glynnis) died. I’d proposed to her on New Year’s Eve in 1997 and then we found out she had cancer. She died that May and she was only in her early 50s.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Never limit your ambitions.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d like vodka martinis before a service with a reading of Blake’s Innocence. I’d be carried out to The Scorpions’ The Best Is Yet To Come.
The way you want to be remembered... The bloke who had a go.
The Plug... The Hairy Bikers’ Diet Club is perfect for anyone wanting to lose weight. www.hairybikersdietclub.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 12 July 2014
War Horse author Michael Morpurgo:
‘I can’t resist pork pies, I eat them secretly so my wife doesn’t catch me’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s author Michael Morpugo’s turn
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not playing rugby for England. I played for my school and Hertfordshire County when I was 16. But as I got older I discovered that many others were stronger and faster than me.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Pork pies. I’ll buy some, then eat them secretly so my wife Clare doesn’t catch me. I’m 70, so I should be chewing on celery, not eating pork pies.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... The Man Who Planted Trees by the French writer Jean Giono. It’s a simple, powerful story that shows how every life can make a difference.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Horatio Nelson. He was a complex man and a true hero. I’d ask if he really put the telescope to his blind eye.
The prized possession you value above all others... A pair of bright red ‘Stratford’ Church’s shoes, which were part of a special range made for the Olympics. They make me feel light-hearted and fun.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d walk in the African savannah alongside a herd of elephants. They’re my favourite animal.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Cruelty.
The film you can watch time and time again... Jour de Fête with Jacques Tati from 1949. I’ve seen it many times but it still makes me laugh.
The person who has influenced you most... Robert Louis Stevenson. Reading Treasure Island when I was ten made me realise I could be transported to other worlds by a book.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Do as you would be done by, it’s at the heart of everything.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Classic cars. I love their look and smell and their romance.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... The ability to sleep through the night. I generally go to sleep and wake up three hours later. Deep sleep is for the young and content.
The unending quest that drives you on... To keep having new experiences. I don’t want to become a boring old goat.
The poem that touches your soul... The Christmas Truce by Carol Ann Duffy. It’s about the un-official truce on the Western Front in WWI. It’s so moving.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That because I’ve written about animals, I must be an animal lover. I live on a farm and I like animals, but not all of them!
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Meeting Clare when I was 19 and on holiday in Corfu. I was heading for the Army, but her principles changed the way I thought. Eventually I quit Sandhurst and became a teacher and then I started writing. We’ve been married for 51 years.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal the Alfred Jewel from the Ashmolean museum in Oxford. It’s an Anglo-Saxon artefact and it’s beautiful.
The song that means most to you... The Year Turns Round, which was written by John Tams for the National Theatre’s adaptation of War Horse. It’s so stirring to see the whole cast singing it.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d wake up with Clare at Samson Hill Cottage B&B on the Scilly Isles. I’d have granola, scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee, followed by a walk in the snow in the Engadine Valley, Switzerland, watching the dipper birds on the river. Lunch would be grilled fish and a glass of prosecco at Trattoria Altanella in Venice and we’d be joined by our eight grandchildren, who are aged six months to 27. I’d walk up the Pyrenees to Lescun, where you have Spain and France on either side. Tea would be at our home in Devon with a pot of lapsang souchong and lemon drizzle cake. For dinner, Clare and I would go to the Hotel de la Marine at Barneville-Carteret, Normandy. I’d have lobster and a nice bottle of Château de Beaucastel 2009 white wine. We’d finish the day back on the Scilly Isles with a moonlit walk on the beach.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When I saw two large brown hares boxing each other in a ploughed field in Essex when I was nine. It was a beautiful, fleeting moment that has always stayed with me because it triggered my love for the countryside.
The saddest time that shook your world... The day my mother died 15 years ago. She was 75 and had been ill for some time, but it was still unexpected. It doesn’t matter how old you are when you lose your mother, it still leaves you feeling insecure and alone.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... I’d love to go down deep into the ocean in a submarine.
The philosophy that underpins your life... People matter. My late godmother Mary taught me that you have to value every human being.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d love Thomas Tallis’s Spem in Alium, which is heavenly, and friends can sing or play some pieces of classical music. I want my ashes to be scattered on the River Torridge in Devon or on the sea by the Isles of Scilly.
The way you want to be remembered... With affection by friends and family. I’d love my books to be remembered, but it’s fine if they forget my name.
The Plug... Michael Morpurgo presents In Flanders Fields, a celebration of songs, stories and poetry from WWI, on 25 August at Kings Place, London. Visit www.kingsplace.co.uk
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 5 July 2014
Tennis coach – and Andy’s mum – Judy Murray:
‘People think I’m a hard, pushy mum but I’m very light-hearted’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s Judy Murray’s turn.
The prized possession you value above all others... My house in Bridge of Allan, Stirlingshire, just outside Dunblane. I spend so much time travelling I feel like I’m on holiday when I’m there.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not taking up a tennis scholarship at the University of Virginia when I was 16. I wasn’t brave enough.
The film you can watch time and time again... The Devil Wears Prada. My life’s been saturated with tennis, so I love how it takes you behind the scenes of a fashion magazine. And Meryl Streep is brilliant.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Godiva chocolate melted over strawberries. It’s fantastic!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code. I don’t know about resonance, but it’s a great story. I couldn’t put it down.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Darts! I went to the World Championships last year. The audience was chanting, ‘There’s only one Judy Murray!’ It was hilarious.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Shoeshiners. Seeing someone at the feet of someone else makes my stomach turn.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day... I’d listen to commanders give speeches to soldiers. Seeing how they prepare their men for the ultimate sacrifice would be fascinating.
The person who has influenced you most... Frank Dick, the former sports coach and motivational speaker. He opened my mind to how to build a support network around an athlete.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Prince Philip. He’s been a part of history for so long already and I love that he doesn’t suffer fools lightly.
The unending quest that drives you on... To set up a tennis centre in Scotland. I want to leave a legacy.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... It’s not what you have, it’s what you do with it.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... Andy and his brother Jamie’s first teeth that fell out. I kept them in a box, but I lost it when I moved two years ago.
The poem that touches your soul... Robert Burns’ Address To A Haggis. I love it because it’s fun and for its Scottishness. I also like haggis!
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m a pushy mum, hard, overbearing and serious. Away from the court, I’m very light-hearted. I’ve never pushed my boys to do anything they didn’t want to do.
The song that means most to you...Caledonia by Scottish singer and songwriter Amy MacDonald. It reminds me how much I love my country.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To dance an Argentinian tango with Artem Chigvintsev from Strictly Come Dancing.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... When Andy won the US Open Juniors in New York in 2004. We were all catapulted into the media spotlight. We had to learn to live in the public eye, which isn’t easy.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d be part of an Ocean’s Eleven-style heist on a Las Vegas casino. Then I’d give all the money to help prevent child poverty.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d have breakfast at the Carlisle Bay hotel in Antigua – with George Clooney! I’d look at the sea and George – two lovely views! I’d have coffee later at Le Pain Quotidien in Wimbledon with Baroness Trumpington – she’d be entertaining company. I’d have lunch at the Old Course Hotel, St Andrews, with golfer Bubba Watson. Afterwards I’d like to see him have a go at The Himalayas course, which is really hard. Then he’d take me for a spin in the General Lee, the car from the Dukes Of Hazzard, which he owns. Later, I’d relax at the spa of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Knightsbridge with the singer Lulu; she seems feisty and fun. Andy, Jamie, their partners and I would have dinner at the Cromlix Hotel near Dunblane, which Andy bought last year. I’d have cheese soufflé and New Zealand sauvignon blanc with soda and ice. I’d end the day at the Inverlochy Castle Hotel in Fort William with a glass of Baileys by a roaring fire.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Jamie’s wedding at Cromlix in October 2010. It’s so rare for all our family to be together. People might think it would be seeing Andy win Wimbledon, but when he won I felt relief more than anything!
The saddest time that shook your world... The Dunblane tragedy (when 16 children and their teacher were shot dead in 1996 at Jamie and Andy’s school). I have friends who lost their children that day and I will never forget how lucky I am to still have my kids.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Reach for the stars, but keep your feet on the ground.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d have Caledonia played at St Blane’s Church in Dunblane. I’d like my ashes scattered on the Isle of Eriska on the west coast of Scotland.
The way you want to be remembered... She worked hard and made a difference.
The Plug... Judy Murray is an ambassador for Lavazza, the official coffee of Wimbledon for the fourth year running. For details visit www.lavazza.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 28 June 2014
Chef and restauranteur Antonio Carluccio:
‘Everyone assumes I’m grumpy. Some people think I look like a Mafloso’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s TV chef Antonio Carluccio’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others... My home in south-west London. I moved in eight years ago and I call it Il Castelluccio – The Little Castle. My garden is full of fruit. I have prunes, pears, quinces and plums.
The film you can watch time and time again... Il Postino (The Postman) is the most beautiful and touching film. It takes me back to happy times in my childhood in northern Italy when my father was a railway stationmaster.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... The great actor Peter Ustinov. I met him briefly at a party in the 90s and he was such an interesting, intelligent man with a great sense of humour. I’d love to go back to the 50s when he was playing Nero in Quo Vadis (released in 1951). I loved him in that film.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... That I no longer have any communication with my ex-wife Priscilla and her children. They were such a happy part of my life for so long, but something has happened and I cannot explain what.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Asking so many questions about everything.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d follow a traffic warden around and cause chaos as he gives out tickets.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Ignorant people.
The person who has influenced you most... My mother, Maria. She was always ready to defend her six children, and mother taught me a lot about cooking. She died 20 years ago and there are only three of us children left.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy. I love the fantasy and losing myself in the stories.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Think big and if things don’t go as you plan, just try again.
The philosophy that underpins your life... MOF MOF: Minimum of Fuss, Maximum of Flavour.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Whittling wood to make walking sticks. I started when I was a boy and I now have about 300. I’m even a member of the British Stickmakers Guild. I find it relaxing.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A bronze statue of a girl holding lilies. She was stolen during a house move about 40 years ago and I miss her.
The unending quest that drives you on... I wish I could cook Chinese food but even though my friend Ken Hom has taught me a bit I still can’t do it.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m grumpy. My face is not entirely sympathetic and some people think I look like a Mafioso! But I’m jolly and gentle.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... The death of my little brother Enrico when he was 13 and I was 23. He drowned in a lake. I don’t think I’ve ever got over it. It made me question the Catholic Church and the existence of God.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal the secret treasures from the Vatican, then give the proceeds to the poor.
The poem that touches your soul... I Love You So Much by the German Joachim Ringelnatz. I lived in Vienna in my 20s and a girl called Inge was my first true love. It reminds me of her.
The song that means most to you... I Would Like To Kiss You, an old Neapolitan song recorded by Pavarotti and others. I remember my father Giovanni singing it to my mother.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... My day would begin in my garden listening to the birds. I’d have porridge, coffee and fruit from my trees. I’d meet my girlfriend Sabine and go to the Amazon rainforest to meet a tribe that is lost to civilisation. Later I’d go for a walk in woodlands in Hampshire to pick mushrooms. Sabine and I would spend the afternoon in the Caribbean. I’d go snorkelling to look at turtles. Lunch would be salad with fresh fish and tomatoes dipped in the salty sea water. After lunch I’d relax in a hammock with a Havana cigar, then have a nap. Then I’d go to a fishing village by the Black Sea and eat a kilo of Beluga caviar. Sabine and I would watch the sun go down on safari in Africa, then arrive at a tranquil lake in Kerala, India, for a spicy dinner. I’d end the day with a malt whisky.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... The day in 2009 when I awoke from depression. I’d tried to kill myself (Antonio stabbed himself in 2008), but after going into The Priory hospital I slowly got better.
The saddest time that shook your world... Enrico’s death. That awful moment I saw him in the mortuary is an image that will never leave my mind.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To organise all the photos from my life. They’re all over the place in boxes and drawers.
The order of service at your funeral... I want my body laid on a bed of sliced truffles then carried into the crematorium by six beautiful women. I then want a party in the foothills of Mont Blanc in Italy, where my ashes will be put into a firework which will explode and scatter me across the countryside.
The way you want to be remembered... As a jolly fellow who was good to people and enjoyed simple things.
The Plug... Antonio’s new book, Pasta, is published by Quadrille, priced £20. Visit www.antonio-carluccio.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 21 June 2014
Veteran war reporter Martin Bell:
‘I’d love to go on Strictly and win – they’ve asked me twice but I never will’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of former MP and veteran BBC war reporter Martin Bell.
The prized possession you value above all others... My military memorabilia. I covered 18 conflicts as a BBC correspondent and brought back souvenirs. I have bullets from Vietnam in ’67, a shotgun cartridge from Rhodesia in ’72 and shrapnel from the Yom Kippur war in ’73. The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Leaving my wife Hélène for another woman in 1980 after ten years of marriage. We had two young daughters at the time. I was lucky that Hélène and I remained friends until she died from cancer in 2001 when she was 57, and my daughters and I are close.
The film you can watch time and time again... The Third Man. The screenplay is beautifully written by Graham Greene, and Orson Welles is superb.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Collected Poems by Wilfred Owen. He writes wonderfully about the wastefulness of war.
The temptation you wish you could resist... A glass or two of Bushmills Irish whiskey at the end of a day.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d follow George Osborne around. I’d like to see how he balances the work in his constituency with holding a high office of state.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Classic FM! The music is OK, but the inanity of the chatter is dreadful.
The person who has influenced you most... The BBC broadcaster Charles Wheeler. He taught me that it was possible to be fair, but not necessarily neutral when it came to the armed and the unarmed.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Rudyard Kipling. I read the Just So Stories to my grandchildren and I would be fascinated to get to know him.
The song that means most to you... Amazing Grace by John Newton, particularly when played on the bagpipes. It’s the song of songs and the ultimate hymn.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Lift up your eyes off the screen and look at the world. I’m 75 and I’m concerned to see the amount of time children spend in front of a computer.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... I love military music and often listen to regimental marches. They’re stirring and full of historical resonance.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A wooden windmill made by a German prisoner of war which I bought when I was seven. When you wound it up a little woodman chopped wood. It was stolen from my house five years ago.
The unending quest that drives you on... To make sense of the experiences I had in my career.
The poem that touches your soul... Kipling’s Epitaphs Of The War, which he wrote after his son John’s death at the battle of Loos in 1915. He wrote, ‘If any question why we died/Tell them, because our fathers lied.’
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m holier than thou because I stood against Neil Hamilton and Tory ‘sleaze’. I’m full of flaws. But my parliamentary expenses were always most reasonable!
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Being wounded in Sarajevo in 1992 when I was hit by shrapnel in the abdomen. Before then I’d been totally cavalier with the risks I took. But I stopped taking things for granted after that.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d fly first class on an
economy ticket. For most of my life I’ve turned right when boarding, so I’d enjoy the thrill of turning left.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d have a full English at Simpson’s-In-The-Strand, then fly to Saint Helena in the South Atlantic – it’s beautiful. After that, I’d have lunch in Sana’a, the capital of Yemen, and look at its ancient skyscrapers. Later, for old time’s sake, I’d nip into the bar at the Europa Hotel in Belfast – the most bombed bar in Europe – for a Guinness and a Bushmills. Then I’d watch Norwich City win at Carrow Road. The day would end in Normandy at my daughter Melissa’s house with my three grandchildren – Max, 15, Natacha, 13, and Clementine, ten – and my other daughter Catherine. I’d cook roast lamb and spend the evening relaxing.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Waking up from the anaesthetic in Sarajevo and knowing that I did not have a life-changing injury.
The saddest time that shook your world... My father Adrian’s death in 1980. He was 79 and died of old age. He founded The Times crossword puzzle in 1930 and I admired him hugely.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To dance with freedom and grace, but sadly I’m hopeless. I’d love to go on Strictly Come Dancing and win. They’ve asked me twice, but I never will.
The philosophy that underpins your life... To try and leave this world in a little better shape than when I found it.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d have a church service with music and readings, but one with more fanfare than sadness.
The way you want to be remembered... As someone who did his best to make a difference and as a professional broadcaster who didn’t make things up!
The Plug... My memoir, National Service, about my two years in the Army stationed in Cyprus, will be published in November.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 14 June 2014
MasterChef’s Monica Galetti:
‘Everyone thinks I’m grumpy. I’m always smiling on MasterChef but it gets edited out!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s MasterChef’s, Monica Galetti…
The prized possession you value above all others... Family photos. I was brought up in Western Samoa and then New Zealand and have very few photos from childhood, so those that remain are precious.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A white gold pendant in the shape of a chilli, which was a birthday present from a friend in 2003. It broke at work, so I wrapped it in clingfilm and put it in my pocket, but I must have somehow thrown it away.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... King George VI. I became intrigued by him after watching The King’s Speech. I’d love to meet him at that pivotal time in his life.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Drivers who indicate randomly. You never know what someone who does that will do next.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Cake in all its forms. Walnut and ginger is one of my favourites.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the 19th- century anti-slavery novel by Harriet Beecher Stowe. It’s so moving how Tom never loses his faith in humanity.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day... I’d follow the Spanish chef Ferran Adrià, who created El Bulli, around. He’s one of the best chefs in the world.
The film you can watch time and time again... Forrest Gump. I love its humour. When I want someone to work faster in the kitchen, I say, ‘Run, Forrest. Run!’
The person who has influenced you most... Michel Roux Jr, my boss at restaurant Le Gavroche, which has two Michelin stars. He taught me yelling at people doesn’t get results
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Make sure you travel a lot before you settle down. Seeing the world feeds your imagination.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Scuba diving. I really love watching the fish and coral. It’s so peaceful.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Letting my husband David [head sommelier at Le Gavroche] drive our new Mercedes ML first! When it was my turn he got annoyed because I had to adjust the seat. That started an argument and I vowed never to drive it again.
The unending quest that drives you on... To keep learning new tricks in my industry. The day you stop learning is the day you hang up your apron.
The poem that touches your soul... Comme Un Chef (Like A Chef), by a French judge at the Bocuse d’Or, the World Cooking Championships in 1997, which I competed in. He read it out and it was very inspiring. It really captured the passion of our craft.
The song that means most to you... When We Dance by Sting. It’s very romantic and it was played for our first dance at our wedding in 2004.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m stern and grumpy! I’m always smiling when we make MasterChef, but it gets edited out! People meet me and say, ‘You’re much nicer in real life!’
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Coming to England on holiday in 1997. I got a glimpse of London life and loved it so I went home, saved up, and came back a few years later. I’ve been here ever since.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d cook a banquet in the State rooms at Buckingham Palace for friends and family, then leave without clearing up!
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d watch the sunrise at Savaii Island in Western Samoa with David and our daughter Anais, who’s seven. I’d eat local fruit and drink from the freshest coconut. After that I’d take pictures of the salt flats at Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia. We’d have a picnic lunch – prepared by the best chef in South America – at Machu Picchu in Peru. I’d spend the afternoon relaxing in the hot springs in Turkey, then have a glass of Krug champagne with David before ending the day at Riomaggiore in northern Italy. We’d be joined by all my family from New Zealand and then the Italian chef Massimo Bottura would cook us one of his wacky pasta dishes. We’d see out the day gazing at the view while drinking Meursault.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Anais’s birth. She’s brought a sense of balance to my life.
The saddest time that shook your world... Moving from Samoa to New Zealand. I was raised in Samoa by two aunties while my mum worked in Auckland. I joined her when I was seven and I remember arriving there in winter. I was so homesick.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... For David and I to open our own restaurant.
The philosophy that underpins your life... The show must go on.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d want something short and simple, followed by a party to celebrate my life. I will leave a menu of fantastic food and great wine.
The way you want to be remembered... As a loving wife, mother and friend. And as someone who smiled a lot!
The Plug... Monica will be at the Taste of London festival, Regent’s Park, 18-22 June. www.london.tastefestivals.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 7 June 2014
Running legend Sir Roger Bannister:
‘People often ask me if I meant to break the four-minute mile. I spent two years training for it. That was my sole aim!’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s runner Sir Roger Bannister’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others... My lifetime achievement award from the American Academy of Neurology in 2005. I was a neurologist for 40 years and it is quite an accolade to be honoured in that way.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Using my wife Moyra’s calligraphy pens. She’s an artist and her pens are precious. She quite rightly tells me off!
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... The 18th-century writer Samuel Johnson. I’ve such respect for his achievements and the fine life he led. He struggled with religion for much of his life, so maybe we could discuss that.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Diseases Of The Heart And Circulation by the doctor Paul Wood. It had a huge impact on my work in neurology.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Never bringing down my golf handicap from 28.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d go to the Oval Office and help Obama get his healthcare programme implemented.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... When people are downbeat about the state of the world. I’m 85 and I remain hopeful and optimistic.
The film you can watch time and time again... A Matter Of Life And Death from 1946, which stars David Niven. It’s powerful and entertaining.
The person who has influenced you most... Moyra. She’s also 85 and we’ve been married nearly 60 years. She’s my most valiant supporter and a wonderful mother to our four children.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... People often ask, ‘Did you mean to break the four-minute mile?’ It makes me laugh because I trained for two years with that sole aim. (Sir Roger ran the first sub-four-minute mile on 6 May 1954.)
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... My right ankle! It was crushed in a car crash in 1975 and I was never able to run again.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... ‘When you are facing an exam paper, read every question three times!’ When I was 14 I misread a question, which cost me dearly.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... I’m fascinated by spies. It’s incredible how they can betray the people they love.
The unending quest that drives you on... To remain physically fit for as long as possible. I started showing signs of Parkinson’s disease three years ago, but they’ve been slow to develop.
The poem that touches your soul... Everyone Sang by Siegfried Sassoon. It’s about the end of the First World War and is filled with hope.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Coming fourth in the 1,500 metres at the Helsinki Olympics in 1952. I was favourite to win gold and had planned to retire from running, but when I got home I vowed to break the four-minute mile. The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’ve never done anything criminal and nothing could persuade me to start now!
The song that means most to you... The Messiah by Handel. From the age of eight, my parents took me to church, which is when I first heard it. It fills me with happy memories.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d wake up at 4am and go sailing with Moyra along the south coast of Britain to Selsey Bill in West Sussex. We’d have a full English breakfast on board. At various stages of the day we’d see our four children – Erin, Clive, Thurston and Charlotte – and our 14 grandchildren. I’d have lunch at my club, The Athenaeum, on Pall Mall, but on this day I’d be joined by Chris Chataway and Chris Brasher – the two pace men for the sub-four-minute mile run, who are both dead now. I’d have lobster thermidor and a pint of bitter. After that, I’d go mountaineering in Switzerland. Clive has a chalet there, so I’d have tea with him. Moyra and I would have cocktails on top of the Empire State Building in New York then fly back to London for a performance of The Magic Flute at the Royal Opera House with the entire family. We’d all have dinner during the interval. Moyra and I’d end the night back at home in Oxford.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Breaking the four-minute mile. I always feel that the triumph is shared equally with the two Chrises.
The saddest time that shook your world... The Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962. I remember being acutely anxious that the world could end.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To start carving wooden animals again. I took it up three years ago but last year I had an arthritic shoulder replaced and I haven’t got the strength back to do it.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Do as you would be done by.
The order of service at your funeral... My daughter Charlotte is an Anglican priest, so she’d conduct the service at St Mary’s Church, Oxford. I’d have Fauré’s Requiem and Abide With Me. Moyra and I bought a plot in a cemetery north of Oxford five years ago, so we can be buried next to one another.
The way you want to be remembered... Simply with affection.
The Plug... Sir Roger’s memoir Twin Tracks is published by The Robson Press, priced £20.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 31 May 2014
Singer James Blunt:
"The biggest misapprehension about me? That I am a romantic! Like a lot of men, I’m uncomfortable talking about emotions – I prefer to put them into my songs."
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the singer James Blunt’s turn
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Neglecting friendships. I’ve been on the road for eight of the past ten years, so I’ve missed weddings, funerals and the births of dear friends’ children.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Smoking when I’m drunk. But I guess if I do it enough I might end up singing like a man!
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... The Catcher In The Rye. I read it at 15 and related to Holden Caulfield’s frustration. It was how I felt about school.
The person who’s influenced you most... Elton John has been an amazing guide. I signed to his Rocket Music Management company when I started and he’s still my ‘over’ manager – I have a manager, but Elton’s the boss of the company.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I was a reconnaissance officer in the Army for six years, so I know about trying not to be seen! I’d follow Vladimir Putin and hear what he’s planning for Ukraine.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Selfies! If I could go back in time, I’d give the guy who created phone cameras a lobotomy.
The prized possession you value above all others... A tuk-tuk taxi I bought in Bangkok. It cost £300 and I had to pay £2,000 to get it home to Ibiza, but now I drive it everywhere.
The film you can watch time and time again... This Is Spinal Tap. I first saw it when I was 14 and loved it. It’s amazing how true some of those clichés are.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Adolf Hitler. I’d try to understand how such evil can exist in a man’s mind.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Success should not be measured by fame and fortune, but by happiness and friendships.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Motorbikes. I keep a CCM 450cc at my sister’s home in England. It’s the best way of getting across London.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... An Iggy and the Stooges T-shirt that was stolen from my suitcase on a trip six years ago.
The unending quest that drives you on... I love my life as a musician, so I’m driven to keep on writing and performing.
The poem that touches your soul... Desiderata by Max Ehrmann. It has a good code for life.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m a romantic! Like a lot of men, I’m uncomfortable talking about emotions – I prefer to put them into my songs.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Leaving the Army in 2002 and moving to LA to make the Back To Bedlam album. I’d been saying for years that I wanted to be a musician, so to finally do it was wonderful.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... Streaking was a great victimless crime of the 70s and 80s and I miss it. I’d make it a feature at major sporting events.
The song that means most to you... Fall At Your feet by Crowded House. It was the first song I learnt to play on the guitar, which was like the moment of discovery in music for me.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions...I’d wake up à deux (with his fiancée Sofia) and watch the sunrise from an atoll off Belize in Central America, then go scuba diving. I’d have breakfast at NoMad hotel in New York with friends – eggs and corned beef hash. I’d spend the morning skiing the Vallée Blanche in Chamonix, then lunch would be a drive-through takeaway from In-N-Out Burger on Mulholland Drive in LA. I’d be in a convertible and order a Double-Double Animal Style. I’d then park up and eat while looking at the view. After that I’d head to Mexico to surf at Puerto Escondido and stay there until the sun went down. The evening would be at home in Ibiza with Sofia and friends. We’d have dinner at a local restaurant – I’d have fresh fish and start with a few cold beers, then some decent wine. After dinner we’d all head to Pacha nightclub, where I’d hit the vodka and dance. That normally goes on until dawn and then it’s back to mine for a party. We usually crash out at 11am, which is a bit more than 24 hours, but hopefully that’s OK!
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Leaving Harrow School at 18. I’d been boarding for ten years, so it was euphoric to finally have freedom.
The saddest time that shook your world... Seeing acts of genocide in Kosovo in 1999 was horrendous and devastating. To witness how people can hurt one another will never leave me.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To play at the Super Bowl – and have the obligatory costume malfunction. I’ll never be big enough in the States, although it might be possible if it’s ever staged in Luxembourg!
The philosophy that underpins your life... Life is not a dress rehearsal.
The order of service at your funeral... I’m on the fence about religion, so I’ll hedge my bets and have a church service. I want to be buried in an environmentally friendly cardboard box under a tree, overlooking the Hampshire countryside where I was brought up.
The way you want to be remembered... As that guy who wrote that song about that girl on the Underground. You know, Wotshisname…?!
The Plug... James Blunt plays at Epsom Downs Racecourse on 3 July. Tickets: 0844 579 3004. His Moon Landing arena tour arrives in the UK in November, visit www.jamesblunt.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 24 May 2014
Opera singer Alfie Boe:
"I love ghost-hunting TV shows. I believe in an afterlife and want to go on a ghost hunt myself one day"
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s the turn of tenor Alfie Boe
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... I was invited to sing to Luciano Pavarotti in private in 2002 but didn’t have the confidence. I kick myself now because I could have had the most amazing masterclass. He died a year later.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Pastries! I can happily eat four or five almond croissants in a row.
The film you can watch time and time again.. The Dad’s Army film from 1971. My dad Alf got me into the TV series when I was seven and I love the movie.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d sit in on a meeting of the executives at my record company. You never know what’s being said behind your back in this business!
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... My luggage being lost by airlines. It’s happened about four times in the past year alone.
The prized possession you value above all others... My Harley-Davidson. I’ve had it two years and it’s a beauty. I live in Utah in the US now and love riding it into the desert or the mountains.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... I’ve never been one for reading, but I made myself read Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables when I was rehearsing to play Jean Valjean in 2010. It’s astounding. It made me feel the characters’ emotions and changed me as an artist.
The person who has influenced you most... My dad. He loved music and shaped my tastes, and I try to emulate how he was with me when I’m with my kids (Grace, six, and Alfie, two). He died in 1997 from a brain tumour.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Elvis. I’m a big fan and I’d love to ride out with him on our Harleys and talk to him about his life and music. Maybe we could do a duet together.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Ghost-hunting TV shows. I believe in an afterlife and want to go on a ghost hunt myself one day.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... My first drum kit. It was a three-drum set from 1960. Dad bought it for me when I was 12 as a surprise. I sold it three years later for £150 to buy a bigger set. I’d pay thousands to get it back!
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Believe in your decisions.
The poem that touches your soul... A monologue from Henry V that begins ‘O, for a muse of fire…’, which I had to learn for an audition. It fills you with strength and confidence. I still read it every now then for inspiration, even though I didn’t actually get the part!
The unending quest that drives you on... To make my best album. It keeps me striving and improving.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I only sing opera. I sing a range of genres, from opera to rock and country, and I especially love Italian folk songs.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Singing Bring Him Home at the 25th anniversary of Les Misérables at London’s O2 in 2010. I got a record deal after that.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d hack into the Inland Revenue’s computer system and alter my tax bill.
The song that means most to you... Beautiful Dreamer by Slim Whitman. Mum (Pat, now 79) and Dad used to sing it to me in bed. It takes me right back.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d begin the day at Hawaii’s Grand Wailea hotel with a huge platter of exotic fruit, then make my way to its pastry counter, which is always piled high. I’d relax on the beach with my wife Sarah and our kids, then we’d go skiing in Sun Valley, Idaho. We’d have lunch at the Pioneer Saloon, a Wild West-themed restaurant with sawdust on the floor, swing doors and walls covered with animal heads. I’d have prime rib steak and a gigantic jacket potato, with a couple of steins of local ale. After a nap I’d nip back to Hawaii to watch the sunset, then take Sarah to Pompeii for a Pink Floyd gig. They’d magically reform just for us, then we’d have dinner with the band and stay up all night jamming.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When I first saw Sarah in 2003. She was sitting on a bench in the building where I was rehearsing in San Francisco. I said, ‘Any idea how I can get a decent cup of tea around here?’ and she fell for it! It was love at first sight.
The saddest time that shook your world... My dad’s death. He was only 63 and I was 23. Dad was fun-loving, caring but very strong, and was always smiling and singing. I miss him every day.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... I’d love to play a villain in a big Hollywood action movie.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Work hard, believe in what you do and surround yourself with people you can trust, who’ll tell you the truth.
The order of service at your funeral... After a traditional service I’ll be carried out to Led Zeppelin’s Rock And Roll.
The way you want to be remembered... As someone who brought joy to people.
The Plug... Alfie’s new album Trust is out on Decca Records and he’ll be touring the UK later this year. For tickets visit www.alfie-boe.com.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 17 May 2014
Broadcaster Peter Snow:
‘I was asked to audition for James Bond, but I was so tall they’d have to put the girls on soapboxes’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s broadcaster Peter Snow’s turn…
The prized possession you value above all others... The 30 or so scrapbooks containing 50 years of our family’s history. We’d all be devastated if we lost them.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Not being cast as James Bond! The producers asked me to audition in 1968, but then said, ‘You’re rather tall, aren’t you?’ I’m 6ft 5in, and they said they’d have to put the girls on soapboxes.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Coating my toast with far too much marmalade or Marmite.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Edward Gibbon’s The Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire. It captivated me when I read it at 16 and led me to read ancient history at Oxford.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d go into a behind-closed-doors meeting Margaret Thatcher had with China’s leaders in 1977 in China. She was cross about something, and I wish I could have witnessed how she harangued them.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... Nouvelle cuisine. I want food, not a pretty picture!
The film you can watch time and time again... The Wages Of Fear from 1953 about a lorry loaded with nitroglycerine that could explode at any moment. It’s the most tense, realistic film I’ve seen.
The person who has influenced you most... George MacMillan, my Greek and Latin teacher at school, who’s in his late 80s now – an inspiring man who helped get me into Oxford.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... The Duke of Wellington, an extraordinary character. I’d love him to explain what was behind his knack for winning – he never lost a battle.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... Be good-mannered and always listen to people.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Model railways. I have a 60-metre 00-Gauge layout in my loft – I’ve had it 30 years. I find it mesmerising watching the trains go round.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... Patrick, a boyhood teddy bear. I took him to boarding school at seven, but the other boys laughed so much I posted him home. I lost him years later in a house move.
The unending quest that drives you on... I’m a sailor, and own a 43ft boat, so discovering exciting new anchorages is a constant delight that never ends.
The poem that touches your soul... Tennyson’s Ulysses, which describes what a man should think about the wide world. I’m 76 and it’s forever inspiring.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m the father of Channel 4 News presenter Jon Snow! We’re cousins, and he’s only nine years younger than me!
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Turning down a job as a management trainee at Mobil Oil in 1962 after I came down from Oxford. I taught for three months, then joined ITN as a sub-editor. That made me realise I wanted to be a journalist and I’ve never looked back.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d flatten the Lion’s Mound monument the Dutch built on the Waterloo battlefield to commemorate the Prince of Orange. It’s a hideous blot on the landscape.
The song that means most to you... Remember The Alamo. I love the song’s lyrics, melody and vision it conjures up of that great battle.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d have breakfast in Athens with my wife Ann and take a good long walk to the Acropolis, then we’d visit some dear friends in Nicosia in Cyprus. We’d go to Kyrenia beach on the island, to be joined by the family, including my six children [three with Ann and three from two previous relationships] and eight grandchildren. After lunch at a local restaurant, I’d go to my home in south-west London to do a few hours’ writing – I’m currently writing about the Battle of Waterloo. Then I’d head to Beirut for a delicious mezze dinner with some very rich Lebanese wine.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... Watching my son Dan win the 2000 Boat Race with Oxford.
The saddest time that shook your world... Losing my mother, Peggy, to liver cancer at the age of just 60. She was such a wonderful, sparky woman.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... I always wanted to be an architect and I’d love to have designed a magnificent building.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Be ready for anything, do your homework and be lucky.
The order of service at your funeral... My wife refuses to tell me! In truth, it’s not something I’ve considered because I’m too busy living life to the full to think about death.
The way you want to be remembered... As an enthusiast, particularly on General Election night!
The Plug... Peter will be talking about his new book, When Britain Burned The White House, at the Ageas Salisbury International Arts Festival on 26 May. Visit www.salisburyfestival.co.uk.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 10 May 2014
TV presenter Gaby Roslin:
‘People think I’m saintly but I lose my temper and get frustrated – and I get drunk too’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s TV presenter Gaby Roslin’s turn
The prized possession you value above all others... My photo albums. I have about 20 and I love dipping into them.
The regret you wish you could amend... That I never bought my mum, Jackie, a Mini. When one drove past she’d say, ‘I’d love one of those.’ She died in 1997 at 62. It would have given her such pleasure.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Chips from the chippy with extra salt and vinegar and ketchup.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... My 20/20 vision. I’m 49 now and my eyesight is going, so I need to get reading glasses soon.
The film you can watch time and time again... Grease. I saw it at 14 and fell in love with John Travolta. I watched it endlessly on video and his picture was on my schoolbook.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Woman for a day... I’d love to record a meeting at a corporation when it takes a decision that will have a negative impact on the environment, and then humiliate them with the evidence.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Peter Pan. My Granny Moo [Muriel] read it to me and I’ve read it to my daughters Libbi-Jack, who’s 12, and Amelie, seven. I love Neverland.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... I get angry during the school run when I let drivers out and they don’t raise a hand, or nod to say thank you. What happened to manners?
The person who has influenced you most... Granny Moo. She taught me never to be judgmental. She also had a wicked sense of humour.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Nelson Mandela. His gift to the world was truly extraordinary and I was devastated when he died.
The wisdom you would pass on to a child... Never give up on your dreams – but don’t hurt anyone in the process.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Penguins! I’ve adopted a penguin at London Zoo, which costs £35 a year. He’s a Rockhopper called Ricky and once a year my kids and I get to go into the enclosure to feed him. Penguins are full of character.
The unending quest that drives you on... To continue working as a television presenter. I’d love to present a live daytime show again.
The poem that touches your soul... I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud by William Wordsworth. As a child I didn’t get poetry, then I went to drama school and I had to recite that poem for an audience. Something clicked in me and tears streamed down my face. I suddenly appreciated poetry’s power.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m saintly. I’m known for being happy, keeping fit and eating healthily. But, of course, I do lose my temper, get frustrated and get drunk too.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... Getting the presenting job on The Big Breakfast with Chris Evans in 1992. I had to do five screen tests but then Chris said, ‘Give this girl the job!’ I was beside myself with excitement.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d break into Selfridges, then spend the night trying on the best designer clothes and jewellery and eating the best food and drinking champagne in the food hall.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d have a tropical fruit platter followed by toast and Marmite while watching the sunrise from the Victoria Falls Hotel with my husband (publisher David Osman) and the girls. Then we’d walk through Central Park and around Manhattan, visit the Museum of Modern Art and take a boat trip to the Statue of Liberty. We’d visit Rome to see the sights, then have a glass of prosecco and a lunch of fresh fish and grilled vegetables. Later, we’d walk along London’s South Bank watching the street entertainers, followed by a country walk. Next we’d head to a beach in the Caribbean so the kids could play in crystal-clear water, while we have a few cocktails. We’d end the day with a barbecue on the lawns of the Victoria Falls Hotel watching the beautiful sunset.
The song that means most to you... Lady by Kenny Rogers. He sang it to me live on The Big Breakfast.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... In 2012, when David proposed to me. It was on holiday on the beach in Turks and Caicos in the Caribbean with our girls. The stars were out and I turned around and he was down on one knee. I said yes and we all started jumping around together.
The saddest time that shook your world... When my mum died in 1997. She had lung cancer. Mum was such a strong woman but so kind.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To climb to base camp at Mount Everest. I have no desire to get to the summit, that would be enough.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Do as you would want others to do to you.
The order of service at your funeral... All I’ll insist on is for it to be a cheerful occasion with plenty of laughter to celebrate my life. I think I’d prefer to be buried rather than cremated.
The way you want to be remembered... For being a good friend, a great mummy, but most of all for smiling.
The Plug... Gaby presents Food Inspectors, Thursday, 8pm, BBC1.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
Published: 3 May 2014
Radio and TV presenter Johnny Vaughan:
‘I collect Edward VIII Coronation souvenirs. It’s funny they celebrate something that never happened. I look at them and think, That’s showbiz!”
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week: TV and radio presenter Johnny Vaughan
The prized possession you value above all others... The original manuscript of the short story by Bruce Robinson that became his film Withnail And I. I bought it through a rare books dealer about ten years ago, but I won’t say how much for. I totally love the film.
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Shaving my head when my hair started receding eight years ago. You can’t go bald gracefully on TV – you either have hair, or you shave your nut.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Making jokes about almost anything, which can get annoying. I hide behind humour.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... Horatio Nelson. He was a real maverick and a proper Englishman.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Dead Souls, by the 19th-century Russian writer Nikolai Gogol. It’s about the value of a single life and the dehumanisation of people.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d attend the G7 Summit and play puerile practical jokes on the world leaders to show them up for what they are: idiots.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... The MPs’ expenses scandal. I watch the expenses I charge for my business, yet we can’t trust that lot to behave properly.
The person who has influenced you most... My dad, Randall, who’s 79. He’s an engineer so he really understands things and is always there with advice.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... When faced with a dilemma, follow your instincts.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... My hair. I put thickening spray on it when it started falling out, but it looked like Fuzzy Felt and I lived in fear of sweating on TV and dye flowing down my face.
The poem that touches your soul...Walking Away by Cecil Day-Lewis. It’s about letting go of the things you love.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Collecting Edward VIII Coronation souvenirs. I have tea cups, mugs and plates. I love that they commemorate something that never happened.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... That I’m the action film actor Jason Statham. It happens often, especially with Germans. I was in Portugal once when a group of them befriended me. I only twigged when they asked me about martial arts.
The unending quest that drives you on... To find new questions to answer.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... The birth of my daughter Tabitha when I was 34. From that moment I’ve done everything in terms of what it will mean for Tabitha (now 13), and my son Raff (11).
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To be the President of Chelsea Supporters club.
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... Nothing could persuade me to break the law again. Prison is not a nice place! (Johnny served 24 months for cocaine dealing when he was 22.)
The philosophy that underpins your life... Leave all decisions until the last minute. It means you have the best chance of having all the information.
The film you can watch time and time again... The Searchers from 1956 starring John Wayne. It’s the greatest Western ever made.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d wake up in an Italian palazzo, which I’d own because on this day I’d be a mysterious and handsome Italian billionaire. I’d run my empire effortlessly all morning while having the finest food and wearing the best clothes. In the afternoon, I’d watch Chelsea beat Manchester United 3-2 at Stamford Bridge with Tabitha and Raff. After that, I’d board my private jet with all my mates – who would also be billionaires – and we’d fly to the Victoria’s Secret fashion show at an unbelievable Las Vegas hotel and hang out with all the beautiful girls.Then we’d eat the best steaks at Peter Luger steakhouse in Brooklyn, with the finest red wine, followed by the biggest Havana cigars. I’d end up back in bed at home in south-west London with my wife, Antonia.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... When Chelsea won the FA Cup Final on 17 May 1997.
The saddest time that shook your world... When my bulldog Harvey died four years ago aged 12. I was smashed up and sobbed like a baby.
The song that means most to you... Is It Something You’ve Got by Tyrone Davis. It takes me back to the era of my early 20s when I had a blast.
The order of service at your funeral... I’ll lay plans for a joke to be played during the service, like for a bunch of musicians to play sombre music but mess it all up. I want something amusing to remind people of my humour.
The way you want to be remembered... As a good mate who helped people be a bit happier as they started the day.
The Plug... Johnny is nominated for Speech Personality Of The Year for his talkSPORT show, The Warm Up, at the Radio Academy Awards on 12 May. Visit www.radioacademyawards.org.
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
How senior executives at The Sun and I were unwittingly taken in by the PR man’s first celebrity stunt
This is a piece written for Huffington Post on 29th April 2014 following Max Clifford’s conviction...

It was good to see Roy Greenslade being a touch magnanimous about Max Clifford in his Guardian blog yesterday. I have been surprised to see certain others chasing the blue light to the radio and TV studios to put the boot in to one they once so openly loved.
The Professor, for that is he, resisted kicking Max “now he is down” because he happily admits to plenty of dealings with him back in the day. I know that’s true because I was the wide-eyed young journalist Roy sent on a story that became Max’s first front page exclusive.
It was November 1986 and I was 21. A few weeks earlier I had been sacked from my first job in journalism – on the Wimbledon News – for moonlighting on The Sun. I had little option but to try and make it full time in Fleet Street at an absurdly young age. I managed to get more casual shifts at Wapping. It was an exhilarating, yet supremely stressful time that shredded the nerves on an hourly basis.
Thanks to Kelvin MacKenzie, The Sun newsroom of that era was a wretched place. His driving motto greeted you each day in the form of a large sign on the wall: “DO IT TO THEM BEFORE THEY DO IT TO YOU”. Sadly, a few fellow workers enjoyed doing “it” to others in the office, not just the opposition.

Somehow, I landed two major scoops in my first few nights – exclusive “reaction” interviews with Boy George and Noel Edmonds on two big news stories ahead of all others on The Street. This prompted News Editor Tom Petrie to remark: “We can’t work out if you are good or lucky. Let’s hope you are both!”
On newspapers, they like a hack on a roll. They keep you going until you cock up, then they burn you. At least that’s how it worked on The Super Soaraway in the ’80s. Tom put me forward for a “special” the features department had, which is when I met Roy Greenslade for the first time.
Roy outlined the situation: “An EastEnders star is cheating on his fiancée with her sister…go to this nightlcub and meet a man called Max Clifford…” The “star” was in fact a bit-part actor who was already an ex-EastEnder (Simon Henderson. Eh?) and the club was the Broadway Boulevard in Ealing. All very once-removed, but I recall an excited Martin Dunn coming into Roy’s office to check who was doing the story.
The snapper and I duly waited outside the club later that evening. I remember Max pulling up in his silver Jaguar/Daimler and struggling to park. He kept bumping into other cars. No doubt he had over-estimated the length he had to play with!
Inside an eerily empty nightclub, we saw the ex-EastEnder canoodling with a woman. Max wanted to know my game plan. “Well, I have to ask him straight up why he’s not with his fiancée?” “That’s a bit direct, isn’t it?” he said. “Let me have a chat first.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later I was interviewing the “star” and his girl. There was plenty of giggling and some unexpectedly candid quotes and they even posed up for a photo. At the time, I thought it was all a bit odd. A chat with the nightclub owner didn’t help. “Max is great at getting me publicity,” he sniggered, then handed me a VIP membership card to the club. Showing precocious ligging skills, I gleefully accepted. Sadly, Ealing was never exactly convenient for a lad living in Sydenham.
I duly wrote the story and Roy was delighted. It became a clearly desperate Sunday-for-Monday splash the following week – EASTENDERS STAR CHEATS FIANCEE. By coincidence, my purple patch had continued and I landed the other big story on that front page – another exclusive with Noel (both my stories were subjected to artful by-line banditry by staffers Paul Hooper and Phil Dampier. Bastards!).

Tom Petrie asked me to get a follow up from the fiancée, so I called Max for a steer, then a funny thing happened. “Actually, she’s asked me to look after her story and is happy to chat….I think five grand should do it,” he said. I told Tom, who was momentarily perplexed, then he sighed. “I think Mr Clifford is playing games with us.” Features eventually did the buy-up.
It was such a ridiculously obvious PR game and we all willingly, blindly fell for it. It was only later that Max’s games changed. The money got bigger and the lies got nastier and the newspapers lapped it all up. And I include those “worthier” newspapers that filled acres of newsprint following the stories he peddled.
I didn’t work with Max again. I always saw him at newspaper Christmas parties and then I went along for a general chat at his Bond Street office in 1998 to, as he put it “get something going”. Thankfully, we never did. I took along the cutting from ’86 and we laughed about the story before he signed it: “To Robin, Our first front page!! Those were the days!!” he wrote.
Indeed they were. Such innocent days. Or so it seemed.
Published: 26 April 2014
Actor and writer Nigel Planer:
‘I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time getting drunk and partying in my 20s. It only led to hangovers.’
We ask a celebrity a set of devilishly probing questions – and only accept THE definitive answer. This week it’s actor and writer Nigel Planer
The prized possession you value above all others... A dark green Silverline metal filing cabinet. For the past 40 years all my notes, ideas and drafts have been a total mess. A few months ago my wife, Roberta, suggested a filing cabinet and it’s absorbed the lot. Miraculous!
The biggest regret you wish you could amend... Wasting time getting drunk and partying in my 20s and 30s. All it leads to is a hangover. I’m 61 now and the ticking clock has really hit me.
The priority activity if you were the Invisible Man for a day... I’d hang out in Naomi Campbell’s dressing room at a fashion show, either to see her changing or throwing a tantrum. Either would be entertaining, both would be perfect!
The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it... I’d steal the landscape paintings David Hockney did on an iPad. The colours in them are so vibrant they bring you alive.
The book that holds an everlasting resonance... Freedom At Midnight by Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre about the Indian independence movement in 1947. I love India and I’m fascinated by this period. A million people died.
The pet hate that makes your hackles rise... That things are never built for tall people. I’m 6ft 3in and I’m always banging into doorways.
The person who has influenced you most... My dad George, who was a scientist. He’s 94 now and he’s always been the voice of reason in my life.
The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again... A pink linen shirt from Boden. I bought it six years ago and it gave me the confidence to wear colour, but it disappeared.
The temptation you wish you could resist... Mini Magnum ice creams. I’ve been known to eat three at once.
The figure from history for whom you’d most like to buy a pie and a pint... The author Robert Louis Stevenson captivates me, not only for his novels but also his travel writing. I’d love to hear about his journeys.
The piece of wisdom you would pass on to a child... See the funny side of life.
The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity... Learning Hindi. I’ve done a year of evening classes already.
The unending quest that drives you on... To write better. I’ve written TV scripts, plays and novels, but it’s always incredibly difficult.
The poem that touches your soul... Lewis Carroll’s The Walrus And The Carpenter because it’s about double acts, which have been a feature of my career.
The misapprehension about yourself you wish you could erase... I’m always being asked if I’m 3rd Rock From The Sun actor John Lithgow.
The event that altered the course of your life and character... A journey I did overland to India when I was 20. I saw the world for what it really is.
The song that means most to you... Queen’s These Are The Days Of Our Lives. I sang it every night to 2,000 people in the musical We Will Rock You while I was divorcing my second wife. It’s such a beautiful, resonant song it saved me during those dark times.
The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you... To be in a long-running comedy TV series.
The film you can watch time and time again... Monsoon Wedding. It’s funny and moving and the first Indian film that Westerners really got.
The way you would spend your fantasy 24 hours, with no travel restrictions... I’d watch the sunrise in Umbria, Italy, while eyeing birds of prey through my binoculars. I’d read and write for two hours before meeting Roberta and my sons – Stanley, 25, and Harvey, 14 (from two previous marriages) – in Kochi in India for breakfast. I’d have idli (Indian doughnuts), with English marmalade, that Roberta will have brought. Then we’d all go on a drive in Yosemite National Park, California, and have a picnic. Later, we’d visit the Museo dell’Opera in Florence, then have tea by the Duomo. I’d watch the sunset over the Hooghly River in India, then go for dinner with Roberta on the island of Moorea in the South Pacific. We’d sleep on a houseboat by Tower Bridge. I love houseboats and I particularly love that bridge.
The happiest moment you will cherish forever... My wedding to Roberta in 2013. We were together for eight years from when I was 25, then got back together in 2003. Things feel right now.
The saddest time that shook your world... Sunday nights during the divorce from my first wife, Anna, when I had to hand Stanley back to her.
The philosophy that underpins your life... Never wear light socks with dark shoes, it makes you look untrustworthy.
The order of service at your funeral... I’d like to be cremated at Golders Green Crematorium in North London. I’d have a reading by the actor Roger Allam and I’d like my ashes scattered beneath Tower Bridge.
The way you want to be remembered... He was good at making friends.
The Plug... Nigel plays Grandpa Joe in Charlie And The Chocolate Factory until 17 May. The show is booking until 2015. For tickets, visit www.charlieandthechocolatefactory.com
Copyright: Rob McGibbon/Accessinterviews.com 2011 (2014). All rights reserved
I realise there has been much anticipation for the unveiling of my first ever work of art on canvas since I mentioned an original piece was indeed in creation. Now the time is upon us. Steady. May I welcome to the world what is provisionally called “Canvas One”.
This could be one of those moments that is fondly referred to in art history in, say, 100 years time. Then again, it may not.
Many people (as in, none) have asked me about my inspiration for this piece. They have likened it to a piece of fearless satire in a post-modernists style and one that is bound to be imitated.
The work simply unfolded effortlessly in my mind And now that it is done and I can step back, I realise one thing is clear: I have painted a bloody flag.
It was remiss of me not to note a particularly inspiring evening recently (15th January).
Fresh from Bob Warren’s funeral – with a crackling vintage recording of Tiptoe Through the Tulips, which was played at his commendation, still making me smile – I alighted alone at the Donmar Warehouse for an evening with T.S Eliot. Death and Eliot are comfortable companions.
I was there to hear a reading of Eliot’s Four Quartets. Eliot’s poetry has been an enduring presence in my life since studying some of his key pieces at A-Level. Four Quartets are timeless, multi-layered masterpieces; lyrically mesmerising, endlessly challenging and, it has to be said, quite beautifully bewildering. Little Gidding is my favourite. A section of it is framed on my desk and a small pencil portrait of Eliot by Wyndham Lewis is white-tacked to the wall.
I have not been to a poetry recital this side of my functioning memory and I have never heard Four Quartets, so this was quite a treat. It was recited by Stephen Dillane as part of the Donmar’s Eliot festival. Where else could one find such a festival than at the courageous, broad thinking Donmar? I applaud Michael Grandage’s versatility and vision for the Donmar in general and in particular for this programme.
Dillane’s recital was skilled and accomplished. To recite all four parts of this lengthy and complex poem is nothing short of remarkable. He gave a beguiling performance, although I have to say it lacked something for me. It is hard to isolate exactly what that something was. He certainly brought the poem to life and it illuminated several parts to me, even though I have read it all many times. I guess one of the obstacles is that I have only ever heard Eliot’s recorded reading, or listened to my own internal voice. It is a bit like the experience of watching the film of a book that is special to you. It is impossible for the images to live up to your imagination. How on earth could Dillane reflect or replace the images from a hundred readings? Also, I attach more melancholy to the piece than his portrayal provided and I have always associated it with an older voice. He was quizzical and frivolous in places where I see nothing short of despair. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed his work and respect his achievement.
The evening was closed with a stunning performance of Beethoven’s opus 132 by a string quartet of the Soloists of the Philharmonia Orchestra. With fitting drama and atmosphere, they were lit by just a single bulb from an overhead light. I marvelled at the exuberance and obvious joy with which they played and I was especially taken by David Cohen’s performance on cello, not least by him performing in stockinged feet with his boots by the spike. Very cool.
So, a reading of Eliot’s finest work accompanied by a Beethoven piece to make your bones tingle. Probably one of the best ways to wind down after a funeral.
Only at the Donmar. Bravo.
For professional reasons, I have recently been plugging into the oeuvre of TV “investigative journalist” Jacques Peretti and I admit I am totally astonished at the projection his documentaries are afforded by Channel 4.
He seems a nice enough fellow and clearly sincere, but he is somewhat deluded by the seriousness and revelatory value of his “investigations”. At best, they are gossamer thin and reliant on twice-removed sources linked together by a droning monolgue of half-baked, pub-style pontification. Jacques reckons he is cerebrally unraveling his subjects. He is not. As Ally Ross, TV critic of The Sun, brilliantly put it a while back – “Jacques Peretti is the Zen Buddhist of stating the bleeding obvious”.
I had to chuckle last night when I saw Jacques and his hairy arms on yet another plane – LA, New York, Bahamas – to track down yet another nobody who sort of knew Dodi Fayed in a nightclub. His “sources” at best are washed up rent-a-quotes who might be worth chatting to if they popped into the Soho edit suite for ten minutes. But the Bahamas for two minutes of nonsense with Johnny Gold? (Actually, I just looked out the window and now realise – if you’ve got the budget and the suntan lotion, it makes total sense.)
The repetition of the stills photos (Diana on the Jonikal) and archive footage (Dodi getting into a Ford Estate, close up of the cameraman in the reflection of the car window) was nothing short of laughable. But it is Jacques’ Mogadon delivery that takes the forehead slapping biscuit. It is as if by talking ever-so-s-l-o-w-l-y with a dense voice will give veracity and weight to his balsa revelations. It d-o-e-s n-o-t, J-a-c-q-u-e-s.
The Artist dipped in for a few minutes and witnessed Jacques’ interview in the back of a limo with some nobody who vaguely knew Dodi for a bit. In one sweeping statement, based on nothing, Jacques said that Dodi got through a kilo of cocaine a week which “would take some doing”. Before walking straight back out, the Artist observed: “He could do with a kilo of coke to liven him up.”
There is a term in the newspaper business for what Jacques does: cuts jobs. Knit together old material, add archive photos to make it look fancy, bung it all under a new headline and hope no one notices. In an hour long TV doc, there is no hiding place and the holes are too glaring to miss. How can a cuts job be worth an hour on Channel 4? And on such well visited subjects as Dodi Fayed, Paul Burrell, Michael Barrymore? Every person Jacques “investigates” can be easily filed under another journalistic term for subjects no longer of interest: “Those we used to love.”
There’s a fun documentary skit to be done on Jacques. I can even visualise the opening wide shot following the great man going about his “investigative” duties in a cuttings library. A dull, slow voice over begins to tell the story:
“This is Jacques Peretti. Who is he? What drives him? Where did he come from? What issues does he have? etc etc…”
Cut to a row of people on a sofa snoring – ZZZzzzzzzzz.
And, so, to Fountain Studios in Wembley for a seat behind the judges at a live semi-final of Britain’s Got Talent. What an extraordinary experience.
I have dipped into the series since a night of undiluted hilarity at the auditions in Hackney, so the thought of some more live action was an easy lure.
A glass of pink champagne backstage got me in the mood for Simon, Piers and Amanda, and, boy, do you need some happy fuel to attend these shows; the crew get you clapping and on your feet constantly like demented performing seals to generate the feel-good vibe. It is an exhausting two hours which leaves you with raw hands and arthritic knees. But it is worth the effort.
Love it or hate it, BGT is one weird whirl of high purity entertainment – good and bad. It makes you cringe, laugh, cheer, boo and cry all in one fatal dose. You sink at the sight of some of the acts – the clueless Indian magician, that troop of a hundred hopeless dancers, the bin bashers, and Christine Hamilton going for it in the finale of You Raise Me Up. But then you are up-lifted by the endearing, untarnished talent of the chorister – you know, the boy with bad white heads. His Tears In Heaven made me water a bit.
You can’t help but get caught up in it all when you are there. When the agonising moment came for Cowell to cast the deciding vote between Flava and The Cheeky Monkeys, I found myself shouting out loud.
My head knew it should be Flava – the half-baked dance act with “street” kids who want to make something of themselves – but my heart wanted the two cute little blonde kids who, let’s be honest, are too bloody young to be appearing in an event of this scale. Their act makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. In fact, so uncomfortable, that I shouted out their name to help Cowell decide. I was so near to him that I seriously think my shout – and a few others – helped swing it. I was like a parent at a pantomime who had sunk one too many sweet sherries in the interval. Really, I should be ashamed of myself.
It is not often that I wake up chuckling into the pillow through a throat made sore by a night of intense, stomach crunching laughter. It is also not often that I burn the toast because my mind is happily distracted by turning over the events of the previous evening. But, then, I had never been to see the auditions for ITV’s ‘Britain’s Got Talent’.
Last night, The Artist and I and a friend sat riveted and contorted through what was probably the funniest, most entertaining – and often excruciating – three hours I have had in, erm, a few decades. We ventured to the Hackney Empire under the invitation of Piers Morgan, an old friend who is now, bizzarely, a bona fide TV star on both sides of the Atlantic.
I must be one of the few people in the land not to have seen one minute of BGT. I was abroad throughout its UK arrival last summer, so I came to it cold last night. And what a delightful, emotionally oscillating shock.
Unfortunately, the poor acoustics meant we could hardly hear Morgan or Amanda Holden’s comments (maybe was a blessing), but Cowell was just a few feet away and he delivered some gems.
We sat through talking and counting (and crapping) parrots, hopeless magicians, tragic clowns (Cowell: “I am allergic to clowns”), overweight teenage Irish dancers in plastic tiaras and frizz wigs, and a fat mum in a vest dancing like Britney Spears who pitched for the sympathy vote with, “I’m doing this for my kids… one of them is disabled”.
Then there was the toe curling embarrassment of “Gunther the Geordie Porn Star” in leopard print briefs practising his pelvic action; Julie, a 41-year-old Southampton Council worker, singing Madonna’s Holiday in overly tight glittered Lycra (Cowell: “You’re like a drunk on a hen night”); and a Norwegian cleaner living in the UK “for time being” (he’s been he eight YEARS) who mimed the effects of being in a storm with a red umbrella.
There were very few genuine acts of talent on what proved to be one of the most fruitless auditions in six weeks of trawling the UK. And Hackney provided the most hostile and cynical of audiences seen by the BGT crew to date. Much has been made in the news recently of the dangers of walking Hackney’s streets at night. Well, I can assure you that its foul-mouthed youth are not to be recommended as companions in the theatre either.
A trainee lawyer dancing like Michael Jackson stole the show and easily made it through to the next round, but I won’t give away the comic brilliance of his act.
I chatted to Cowell and Morgan backstage afterwards. Both looked a touch exhausted and exasperated with the draining demands of the BGT auditions juggernaut. Cowell said that he was running out of things to say to these people, but I beg to differ. The line of the night was all his and it was this one which had me chuckling again in today’s reverie.
It came when a man of 84 called William humbly took to the stage to play Edelweiss on the harmonica. He quietly, but proudly, said he had been playing for 60 years. He then proceeded to silence the baying Empire mob with the dullest, most pedestrian performance in history. There was a very real stench of sympathy and awkwardness. 60 years, for that?
With profound and deadening understatement Cowell looked at him unsmilingly and said: “I think you could do with a little bit more practice.”
Priceless.
Daft really, to reach out like this, but I have just tuned into one of my favourite events on the sporting calendar – the Masters golf from Augusta – and I am irate enough to react with an angry blog. I had forgotten who is the host these days. Gary bloody Lineker.
Quite simply, he does NOT fit this event.
I felt it in my gut last year. I even reached for the blog back then. There has been much press about Midlands accents of late. Well, I for one don’t want one talking me through this golf tournament. Every time he says “Masstas” I want to club him. I can’t be alone.
Thankfully, I will be on holiday tomorrow and will miss the Masters this year. The only consolation is that I won’t have to watch Lineker at the helm.
Steve Rider get yer bouffant back ‘ere.
Louis Theroux has been away from TV for a while. I’ve not missed him. He kicked off his new series of BBC2 documentaries with a trip to Las Vegas last night and the publicity suckered me in. After a long break from TV, with the whole world and its nutcases at the mercy of his lens, he goes there. Genius producing. Can you imagine the planning meetings that went into that? Series Producer: “Hey, the Hilton are offering us a freebie to Vegas for a few on-screen plugs, let’s go, do the strip see some strippers.” Louis: “Errrm. Yeah. Well. Hmmm. Yeah.”
But, hey, no matter the jam-packed travel library in existence on Vegas – all made possible with contra-deal kick backs – it is so full of madness and characters that any hack with a camcorder and a decent eye for a story should come up with some entertaining footage and interviews. But not Louis. He couldn’t interview a Martian and get a story if one tugged on his baggy sweater.
For this show, Louis followed a few hapless gamblers and showed them to be hopeless losers. Gosh, sad gamblers found in Vegas, they lose money. I was staggered. Then Louis played the tables himself – twice. Original, imaginative. In terms of creativity, this show was tantamount to going on a junket to Vegas and staying at the airport to play the first 25 cent slot machine you see, then coming home.
If this loser of a show was the lead doc in the series, I doubt I will gamble any more time on Louis. He has no basic sense of how to ask questions or develop an interview with any depth. And once you are bored of his limp, whimpering delivery, and over-played laid back approach – if indeed you ever liked it – there is nowhere to go. I’ve always felt he was over-rated.
I stand accused of wasting an hour and a half of my life last night watching BBC2’s The Verdict. I hang my head in shame and plead guilty and ask for countless other similar telly violations of my freedom to be taken into consideration. My sentence? To watch the remaining episodes of this absurdly enjoyable tripe.
I missed the opening up of this “case”, so I’m slightly off the pace, but that hasn’t hindered me from easing into the role of a hang ’em high judge and jury. In fact, I couldn’t give a bowl of salty porridge about the blokes in the dock, or the weepers in witess box. No, naturally, I’m judging all the celebrities. They’re all in the dock here, of course that’s what this is about – it’s a reality show with a stocking over its grubby little face as a disguise. And I know for certain they are all GUILTY.
Yep, guilty, I say. First up is chuffing Ingrid Tarrant. She is guilty of suddenly making me feel empathy with Chris for going AWOL in his marriage. Next is Jennifer Wotshername-like for giving further incontrovertible evidence – recently displayed by Danielle Windyarse-like from CBB – that the scouse accent is the most tikcth (sic: thick) sounding and irritating in Britain. Then there is the ex-soap Ginga, up on charges of continuing to impersonate a bad EastEnders character. Her claim that she is just a Patsy is inadmissable.
Then there’s the bloke from Blur – Alex James – who looks like he is a few glugs away from rehab’. (Apologies if he is actually in recovery). I interviewed Collymore and Archer last year, so I know their form. Therefore, I convict them both without a pause for breath. Well, let’s face it, Collymore is always upto no good and Archer is always guilty. Who have I missed? Oh, yes, Jacqueline Gold. She is so quiet I think she must have been winded by sitting on an oversize Rampant Rabbit. Then we have old rubber nose, bloaty-face Michael Portillo. He is guilty of making me think that he is actually half-sensible, such is the company he keeps. There are a few others who are simply guilty of table manners affray and for consuming stolen goods – champagne and lorry-loads of food – all proven to be owned by hard-up Licence Payers.
But the main culprit in The Verdict so far is Megaman – or MegaChippyMan. He is exercising his right to remain silent with a violent stare. He has brought a stack of pre-conceived ideas, personal issues and prejudices into the jury room and dat ain’t allowed, man. His main crime, however, is being caught in possession of an over-loaded, dangerous wardrobe, including diamonte studded CK sunglasses worn with no sense of embarrassment in a darkened dining room. He stands accused of using this wardrobe with malicious intent to pass off as a successful gangsta rapper.
Everyone in this show keeps saying – “You’ve got to go on the EVIDENCE”. Well, I’ve seen enough, yer Crusty Old Honour.
Take ’em all down.
And, so, to the art world and last night’s private view for Marcel Dzama’s new work at Timothy Taylor’s gallery in Mayfair. Waiters in black Zorro masks greeted me with a choice between a bottle of Peroni and a glass of chilled Petit Chablis. A brash, post-minimalist bar, but evocative and splendidly purist. It spoke to me. Still off the beer, I went for a splash of wine. Very nice, too, I thank you, Timothy, but I’ve got to say, it all went a bit downhill after that.
There’s clearly a buzz and dazzle around Dzama, what with his (group) shows at MoMA, but on the evidence of last night it is a wonder to me how this Canadian is generating such attention – and prices. Now, I’m all in favour and praise of people who express their creativity. Bravo to them. I can’t speak for Dzama’s previous work – which may well be amazing, visionary, cutting edge, it may even be good – but this show was thin, to say the least. Less than a Size 0. In fact, if you had phoned up ITV to vote for this exhibition, you would rightly claim you had been short-changed.
The work derives from a 30 minute film (art show screenings only, not yer local multiplex) Dzama made a while back called The Lotus Eaters. It includes images of characters, many in Zorro masks with black beaked noses, sitting on dead tree trunks. You know, I can barely recall a clear image this morning, such was the lasting resonance of his faces. They looked like the rejected off-cuts on a cartoonist’s studio floor.
Also on display were some furry costume heads from Dzama’s “film”. I have seen more dramatic and better constructed models made by 10 year olds with papier mache and ping-pong balls. But, here in Mayfair with beer and wine, these heads and pictures are art, and fairly expensive art at that. One gallery sales person, visibly twitching with glee, told me that most were already sold. The small, unappealing water colours were $10-15,000 a shot and one medium-size montage was $45,000. Average-to-low pricing in this genre and I would have got one or two for the hell of collecting, but I didn’t have any change on me.
The information sheet handed out last night explained Dzama’s talent and inspiration thus: “The long, dark, cold Winnipeg winters meant that Marcel spent a lot of time inside drawing a dystopian world inhabited by femmes fatale, bats, bears, cowboys and superheroes.” Hmm, I stayed in a lot drawing when it shanked down in Bromley when I was a kid. But when does childhood cartooning become art? When an art dealer tells his people, that’s when.
Now, I’ve been to countless private views in the past few years and I’ve done all the main London art shows, and, well, the whole shebang leaves me ever more puzzled. The big fairs seem to be little more than a free-drink fest, with hoards of liggers staggering around in a fug of cheap, New World chardonnay or shiraz looking with ever deteriorating eye-sight at works of questionable quality and depth, let alone basic intrigue or beauty. The contemporary art world is thriving like never before and is awash with money and product. Of course, it is not all bad, but why such continuing hype about so little?
Well, here’s a thing. I completed my first painting on canvas last weekend. It was an oddly rewarding experience, especially as it began with a definite twinge of panic and artist’s angst when I first stared at the blank canvas. I suddenly connected with all the grand Masters who had hunched over an easel before me. We were one.
But it’s not that hard, you know. A short while later I had produced a picture that is a compelling, poignant and painful depiction of personal suffering and 21st century alienation. Or, indeed, it could also be a quite colourful abstract miniature with a circle and some blocks.
I’m thinking of exhibiting my solitary picture here, then you can all decide. The price? Let’s leave that to the dealers…
So, what’s a newly married man supposed to do when he gets his first night away from the new wife? Go on a heavy session with the lads and re-tread old haunts? It’s a bit soon for nostalgia for me, so last Friday I did what any self-respecting bloke without a functioning telly would do – I took a long slow walk to the Royal Albert Hall, via the Anglesea, for my first Prom.
I thought I would sample a last-minute “gallery” ticket for a fiver to listen to some quality classical music at feet tingling altitude amongst the “Prommers”. Puffing slightly, I finally arrived at the top deck of the RAH and knew immediately this is not the way I want to listen to Beethoven’s 9th, a much-loved personal favourite.
I’m all up for new experiences, me, but up there I found it infested with a hairy bunch of unkempt, bare-or-soily-sock-footed, picnic-munching,soap-swerving fuddy-duddies and trainee old-before-their-timers. It was like an airport lounge during the French air traffic controllers’ annual strike, with Prommers stretched out on chequered blankets guarding their six-inch sections of laced iron balustrade like sentries in Stalag 17. Elgar’s notes crawled up gasping from below to wrestle for ear-space with the crackle of crisp packets, the fingering of strawberries in creased plastic punnets, and embarrassed usherettes hissing at people to drink their chardonnay contraband outside. Tell me, what is the F-flat point of coming to a classical concert if all you want to do is stuff your big fat furry face? How will you ever know your arse from your oboe if you’ve got a gob full of Walkers?
I immediately regretted not buying a £35 best seat in romantic pursuit of a new experience, so I did the next best thing – I craned over a coleslaw and tomato salad box to scope the arena below for an empty seat. I spotted a cluster of six-or-so near the stage. Years of events experience has taught me that there is no such thing as a 100% sell out, even the First Night of the Proms. And, one tip, if you are ever going to jib in and risk the humiliation of being the only lemon left standing in a fully seated arena, you may as well shoot for the best of the best seats.
So, while the mob was getting stuck into dessert during the interval, I ghosted into the main auditorium and took up position in my new swivel velvet aisle seat in Row 7 – right next to the choir, behind the violins, beside the percussion man and the nervous fellow checking the position of a tiny triangle for the hundredth time. If I had been any nearer to the orchestra, I would have been taking precise instructions from the conductor. But the best thing of all, I was about 3,000ft below the fetid munchers.
And there I waited, indeed sweated, to see if anyone would claim this sensational seat. It was an anxious wait as late-comers piled in for the main event and the vacant cluster was reduced to just one single spare – mine. I have never been happier to hear the opening bars of the 9th. But, my oh my, was it worth the worry. What followed was one of my personal all-time great entertainment pieces, 70 minutes of unadulterated, goose-bumping joy. There are few things in life more inspiring and uplifting than seeing a full orchestra playing in unison.
I’ve “seen” the 9th a few times before and it always makes me cry. Not in a blubbing, hanky-soaked style, but in the simple welling up way. Such is the power of this piece live that my eyes had filled up again within a few minutes of this performance. And the aural power surge when the magnificent double choir – TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY EIGHT OF THEM! – stood up for the finale almost lifted me out of my free seat to join in. Even watching the high pressure moment when Triangle Man’s moment cometh was truly memorable. He successfully filled the Albert Hall with his little instrument and I saw the relief on his face from about four feet.
Anyway, don’t take my word for it. The piece is playing again during this Prom season. My advice: Go, see, hear it for yourself. Forget the gallery. Leave them to their dinner. Spend more, get a good last minute seat. It was the best thirty five quid I never spent.
Wish me luck, I’m heading off on a Ryanair flight today. This is despite vowing two years ago, after a miserable journey from Pisa, never to travel with them again.
Back then, I said I would happily pay whatever extra it costs to avoid being buffeted along by the elbows and shoulders of sweating, wheezing fellow travellers, as we were herded to a shock yellow seat for the joy of flying to the appalling shrill of in-flight advertising over the Tannoy. What a way to treat your customers.
But what did it for me with Ryanair was the baggage weight charade at check-in at Pisa. My relatively minimal holiday baggage had beefed up a touch, thanks to a paltry, single case of fine Tuscan red I had sourced from a small vineyard outside Montepuliciano. To take it home, I would have to pay excess baggage which negated any previous saving. The Artist and I shuffled off and re-arranged the bags to sneakily spread the load into our hand luggage. It felt cheap and pathetic, yet while we did this, we watched several people check in without a hitch after us despite clearly having eaten their life’s quota of pizza and pasta while on holiday.
Tell me, where is the fairness in penalising passengers who might be, hmmm, on the slimmer side for carrying a few extra pounds in a bag, when Mr and Mrs Golightly are packing an added, say, ten stones between them around their midriffs and derrieres?
Well, I’m heading off on Ryanair for this weekend break because no other airline goes to this destination at anything near a reasonable rate. To avoid putting bags in the hold and to keep within the hand luggage weight, I have studied the baggage dimensions and restrictions on the Ryanair website like a swot in A-level week. God help me. Consequently, I am travelling lighter than ever in my life. Robair – no frills indeed.
Monday night veg-out saw me tuck into a double portion of gut-churning culinary TV turkey, ‘Nigella Express’ and ‘Hell’s Kitchen’.
I had just rustled up a vegetarian shepherd’s pie, then failed to answer the closing questions on University Challenge, when up popped Nigella. At times, I wonder what onyx stone I have been living under because the entire Nigella Goddess phenomena-thingy pretty much passed me by, but suddenly here she was, in super nauseating close up, super glammed-up, and oh-so-super, super-sized in her super home.
Really, this programme had me spluttering on my lentils from start to finish. It was an unexpected, unintentional comedy gem. I found myself waiting for Nigella to suddenly double up over her spare tyre with laughter as the camera pulled back to reveal Richard Curtis, script in hand, directing a Comic Relief special. It is beyond parody.
Nigella, oh-so-busy, oh-so-stressed, hopping into a black taxi to the Waitrose in Belgravia, then back in a taxi to her hellish Eton Square home, then cooking frantically in her Mayfair restaurant-spec kitchen for her family and chums. I’m sure the stress of the taxi trips resonated with all those who struggle on the bus to the local Lidl with ten quid to feed five.
But it was Nigella’s menu that had me tickling the belly lard with mirth. Pork chops fried in oil with a double cream mustard sauce and gnocchi, or deep fried calamari with garlic mayonnaise. The gut-busting coupe de grace was Nigella coming home to twinkling Christmas lights after a liver full of champers, to curl up in bed with a couple of stale croissants baked in cream and egg. And, then, she came back for more with EXTRA cream before settling down for a late night heart attack. Hilarious. Rename this show ‘Nigella’s Express Taxi Route To Becoming A Fat Knacker’.
Another fat knacker turned up in ITV’s Hell’s Kitchen – Mark Peter White from Leeds, aka Marco Pierre White. Marco kept going on about the fact that he hadn’t been in a kitchen for seven and a half years. By the size of him, he couldn’t have been far from one. If anything, he looks like he’s spent the best part of his resting years on a park bench, or in a box on the Embankment. Marco sounds addled and looks so poorly he can only be a packet of fags or a Nigella pudding away from a defibrillator.
I presume the intention behind such a “Legend” doing this crass – and, it has to be confessed, pathetically addictive show – is to re-heat the souffle of his former glory. Well, by the sight of this opener, it ain’t gonna rise an inch. Would your taste buds get wet at the thought of Marco sweating and wheezing over your grub, his infested hair swooshing around while he man-handles it all with his grubby savaloy fingers? (I never realised just how much grease-ball chefs handle the food until these shows. Urgh).
Oddly enough, Marco didn’t come across as the beast that everyone at ITV expects, indeed insists. If anything, he seemed nervous and genuinely encouraging and avuncular to his hapless “celebrities”, rather than truly nasty like Ramsay. Maybe this genuine nicer side of him will gradually come across more and save his bacon.
But there is only one way to beef up Hell’s Kitchen and make it a dish worth serving: bring in Nigella.
Note: Since writing this blog, it has been revealed that Nigella’s home shots are a big fat porky pie and actually filmed in a studio in South London.
A simple, quick tip on a fabulous restaurant I visited last Friday: Baltic. It’s been there for about six years and already has a huge following and great reviews, but has only just beeped onto my radar. Always up to speed, me. (Apparently, AA Gill slagged it originally, but has been seen back there many times).
The theme of the restaurant is Eastern European and has the most amazing, mouthwatering original menu. If I only I could remember the names of the dishes to make your mouth water. The trouble is, the tradition at Baltic is to serve a variety of head-banging home-made vodkas throughout your meal. Slam dunk those on top of some superb Meursault, Margaux and a Brunello to boot, then you know you will have to relive the experience just to anchor it properly in your memory.
That said, the Scottish Rock Oysters (er, is Scotland near the Baltic?) were silver slick, the Siberian dumplings with veal and pork were sweet and moreish and the bleeding lamb was so tender I started stamping the ground like thumper. For the life of me I cannot remember what I had for dessert. I blame the pre-pudding strawberry vodka.
B-Baltic is a b-brilliant, b-buzzing restaurant. Go there for a b-big b-blow out. It is so good it is almost memorable.
Note: I have just noticed that Baltic has made into the Evening Standard’s restaurant critic Fay Maschler’s top 25 London restaurants in today’s (3rd Oct) paper.
As I am sure you are beginning to make last minute arrangements for your winter or New Year holidays, can I just stop by with a couple of recommendations following a glorious trip earlier this year.
The Madikwe Lodge safari lodge in South Africa is sensational. Luxurious and beautiful private rooms are carved into the granite of the local rock formations, with heated floors and a private plunge pool. You even get a private outdoor bath and shower overlooking the bush. Well, totally private except for the elephants and lions looking on – in awe – as they drink at a nearby watering hole. The Madikwe staff are fantastic, as is the food. The game drives are terrific and we easily saw many multiples of four of the Big Five (the leopards eluded us) – thanks to our cheerful, eagle-eyed tracker Johannes. What a star – although one lion got a little too close and looked me square (meal?) in the eye. Most memorable sight, apart form the animals, has to be the Mars-red, iron rich earth. I even brought some home to create my own paint. (Exhibition to be announced soon).
Mauritius is only a four hour flight from Johannesburg and is an ideal place for a beach side crash out after an exhausting safari. I would strongly recommend the Hilton. I always expect the worst when I hear that name – an air-con, high rise, business hotel – but this one is part of the five star ‘Hilton Worldwide’ range. It is stunning and lacks the stuffiness of some of the other five star resorts. I finally cracked mono water skiing, thanks to Tom from the newly installed Mark Warner water sports centre, and I had the best acupressure massages in my life at the dedicated health spa.
Both these trips can be booked via the Virgin Holidays website or by calling: 0871 222 0307.
One last tip (plug): Virgin Upper Class to South Africa is superb. But make sure you give yourself a good two hours in the Clubhouse at Heathrow – just so you are, ahem, nicely relaxed for that strenuous flight.
Many months ago I enjoyed a one night stay at Champneys Tring. If I was a politician, I guess I would have to make various declarations, or – more likely – not make any declarations, only to have The Guardian tell me later that the bill was settled by someone else.
Anyway, if you are thinking you are in need of a detox to prepare for all those Christmas parties, or indeed you are planning a New You for the New Year, then you could do worse than book a mini health farm break at one of the Champneys resorts. The facilities at the one in Tring are superb. A sumptuous spa, immaculate grounds, great massages and numerous other treatments, excellent food and the giant bed in a Premier room gave me the best sleep in months. It was wonderful to see Frank Bruno happily clocking up the miles on the treadmill in the gym, although it was something of a shock to have Cherie Blair plonk herself down near me in the chill out zone in her white toweling robe.
Champneys is on its game and I’m told that the company will soon launch a number of city “Day Spas” across the country.
There you go, just a tip to lift any winter health blues.
Time for some serious product placement: Le Grand Hotel, Paris. Go and stay there. I spent a few nights with the Artist there recently and it was, well, magnifique. I needed to be there, as opposed to any other hotel, to do some top-up research for a book I am currently re-igniting. Certain key scenes happened there in 1914. Oh, the wilful intrigue of my vagueness.
Le Grand is a big hotel and part of the Intercontinental Hotels Group. It might not be everyone’s idea of a romantic Parisian bolthole. There are plenty of bijoux hotels in the 6th, but I always feel a bit uncomfortable in places of limited staffing – you know, when the same face pops up in different areas of the hotel, or the worn out Monsieur on the front desk knows too much about your movements. I need the freedom of anonymity you get in a big hotel to help me switch off.
If you are looking for immaculate, yet understated five star service that is devoid of stuffiness, then you will struggle to do better than Le Grand. The IHG group are currently on a mission to offer a more chilled out first class service across all their hotels. It works here already. The hotel, which is one of the oldest large hotels in Paris, had a major re-fit in 2002, so it is finely spruced throughout. Our room was luxurious and overlooked the Opera House. Recent modern additions to the hotel include a small, but perfectly adequate spa. Despite the lush re-furb, the cosmetic traditions of the hotel’s more famous older parts have been preserved. There’s the relaxing Winter Garden central atrium, the exquisite Cafe de la Paix with its ornate splendour (what a place for breakfast) and then there is the devine, gilt-mirrored oval ballroom called the Salon Opera. Take your girl for a private waltz here beneath the giant crystal chandelier. This is where Daniel Craig hosted the post-premiere party for James Bond’s Casino Royale in November, so if you’ve got two left feet she can at least close her eyes and think of him.
So, if you are considering a break in Paris, think of Le Grand. If not to stay, then maybe for a meal, or afteroon tea, or a flute of champagne. Or, indeed, a dance. Feel free to mention my name.
Still socially gated, with the advanced stages of cabin fever taking grip, I decided to cheer myself up and get a count-my-blessings reality check by watching Channel 4’s The Somme. It was all the things you hoped for and dreaded. I’m not sure it actually taught me anything new. I’ve read a bit about WW1 over the years and dip into the war poets frequently. A few lines from them take you there with a jolt. This show was another one of those good reminders. It was moving, gruesome, at times heart-wrenching and, naturally, it made me feel lucky to be on a sofa with a slight ankle injury and an organic beer in my hand, not a rifle and trench foot with someone about to blow a whistle to signify my imminent execution.
The re-enactments were skilfully filmed and the detail of the research of the personal stories particularly, as well as the military overview itself, was admirable. Such was the detail that the programme – coming in at two hours, five minutes – seemed to last as long as the battle itself. At times, I thought I wasn’t going to make it to the end either.
A couple of observations: How can you spend all that time building up the stories of characters and then dismiss their ultimate destinies in a picture caption? Young “Cyril” was one of 27 out of 1,000 who survived in his attack zone and went on to become a “communist”. Blimey, that begged a few more pars. And Captain May asked a fellow soldier to look out for his beloved “wife and baby”. If we know that much detail, surely the researchers can tell us what happened to his good lady and child?
But the coup de grace whinge for me is this: as the credits rolled and the horrific collage swilled in my disturbed mind, the syrupy tones of the Channel 4 voice-over woman suddenly broke the dark spell. “We apologise for any bad language that featured in this programme.” WHAT! Give me fucking strength, you stupid twats. Whoever makes rules that state these pathetic apologies must be made at the end of documentaries of such power should be put up against a wall and shot.
Carina Round is from Wolverhampton and has been signed by Dave Stewart to his Interscope label. Unsurprisingly, I had never heard of her, but I’ll give a her a name-check here. You never know, it might help. Her debut album was due out in October, but has been delayed and will be out next year. She was doing a short, showcase gig at a club called Stereo, way out on West 29th Street and 10th Avenue. I’d never been that far west in the city before. I stood alongside a pop legend who I had interviewed earlier in the day – it pains me not to name drop – and about 50 others as she rattled through five numbers. I only mention this gig because I think she has something.
I am not moved to write a full review here, although I will say that she has a powerful voice and a definite stage charisma. She lead sings while playing electric guitar in a band. The style is on the rock side of pop. Plenty of noise, energy and passion. Raven-haired and in a 50’s black dress with an extravagant pink trim, Carina looks good and has an amusing knock-kneed dance style when she’s in the grip of a song. I’d probably put her down as a mix between Alanis Morissette and Bjork. A fairly potent blend. I liked her voice. It has power and versatliltiy and there’s a freshness there. I’ve dipped into the promo’ CD her “people” gave me since I’ve been back and there are some growers. There was too much noise at that mini gig to get too carried away, but I liked her. Certainly, the volume of her delivery made my swollen ankle tremble. It was like having very aggresssive ultra sound treatment.
I went on to two parties with Carina and her bass player, Smudger, after the gig. I know, such rock ‘n’ roll. In truth, the parties were average-to-shite, but Carina and I chatted like old mates. That’s showbiz for you. She’s a lively character and has a bucket load of attitude and, I think/hope, the talent to match. If nothing else, she can neck beer with the best of us. If she makes it, she’ll probably be hell for her PRs but good for the rest of us because she speaks her mind. Journos take note: even though I wasn’t working as such that night, I could tell that there is a story there in her background. You just know where there is good copy. So, if she gets a hit, at least the publicity shouldn’t be too much bother. Good luck to her.
Thankfully, for this interview job (pop group Duran Duran), I was switched at the last minute from the Hell Inn in Harlem to the Grand Hyatt on Park Avenue at Grand Central. I think it was by way of an apology for the Jalfreizi Jet. Things didn’t start well.
I got out of my yellow cab, disorientated and feeling slightly sick after a brake, accelerate, honk horn, neck-jarring ride from JFK through the rush hour. The driver was straight from Central Casting’s “surly, grunting oaf” category. I sat there wondering if I had the bottle to commit the sin of sins in New York and not tip the taxi man [20% meant an extra $10. All non-recouperable]. It is easier to walk by a starving blind mother with her three maimed children on the pavement than get out of a cab without tipping, but I did indeed have the nerve and experienced what can only have been instant karma, Big Apple-style.
He dumped me about ten feet from the curb. A doorman arrived, one palm naturally wide open. I alighted, cases in hand, and stepped on an uneven tarmac patch by a manhole and immediately went over on my left ankle. I am not talking just a wobble and stagger. I mean, right over, ligament stretching over. Screeching agony over. “FUCK!” I shouted at the top of my voice, trying to maintain my balance. “FUCK!” “FUUUUUCK!” Pain ripped through me. I looked up and there were about 30 people standing on the side walk staring at me. Not one person offered to help or smiled in sympathy. Welcome. The doorman heard my accent and sensed there was no money in injured British people, so he ignored me, too.
The one upside to this injury: the agony instantly cured my toothache.
The Grand Hyatt. Not a bad hotel, in a business-travel sort of functional way. I think it has had a major refit in recent times and I’m told that Hyatts generally have upped their game. The lobby of this one is a hideous landfill of brown marble with an absurdly large water feature-cum-fountain dominating the entire atrium. The rooms are spacious and clean and the beds are vast kings with decent pillows and soft linen. The woman on the reservations desk had no idea I was now operating on one leg but, by fluke, she gave me a room for the disabled. The bathroom was a wet room, ie: no bath, just an open space beneath the shower. I was desperate for a long, soothing bath but I was in so much pain I could not face the hassle of moving. I learnt later that the tiler hadn’t bothered putting a gradient in the floor tiles because my shower flooded the bathroom. He probably got tipped well for the shoddy work though. I built a dam by rolling long white towels and immediately felt bad about the enviroment and all that extra detergent going into the oceans. It’s Room 2740 that is liable to flooding, if anyone is interested. I would hate for anyone to aquaplane out of the 27th floor in their wheelchair.
What more can I say about the Grand Hyatt: $299 per night plus taxes totalling $44.40 is pretty good value for central Manhatttan. Naturally, like all hotels, they totally fleece you for using the telephone, but the breakfasts are good [$32, plus tip – even though it is a self-service buffet. Explain that]. I could go on, but if I write any more, I’ll be looking for a little friendly bonus…
I have just been kicked with a kung fu level of sadness after discovering that David Carradine has died suddenly.
As a boy growing up in Maidstone, Kent, in the 1970s, I was a big fan of his alternative crime fighting TV show. I loved his coolness and understated ability to kick seven bells out of all the baddies in one go with his bare feet and hands. I remember him breaking legs by kicking cowboys in the knee.
I would often go to sleep at night fantasising about having the ability to dish out his kind of brutal summary jurisdiction against the bullies in my little world. There was no end to the skill of my fast fists and high swinging kicks inside my imagination. I was the hardest nut in Ditton and saved all the girls from no end of distress.
In fact, now I think of it, not a lot has changed. I’m pretty sure I have gone through a few fantasy kicking moves as recently as last night – while I manifested revenge over Monday night’s burglar.
If there was ever a guardian angel to have, it would be Carradine. Book him now.
Rest in peace, Grasshopper.
Oh, how I loathe the piece of scum who burgled our house. Forgetting the loss of treasured property, I am now on Day Two of the nightmare admin’ of cleaning up after the bastard.
I have lost track of how many phone calls I have had to make to cancel cards, organise new phones etc. Any idea how many call centre menus you have to endure to re-boot the technical essentials of life. Don’t ask me about the expense. I’ve just been told of the bill I can expect to re-programme my car alarm to make sure one of the burglar’s mates doesn’t pop by with the keys he nicked and drive off with my car. I’d far rather buy some new clothes, thanks very much. But, no, I’ve got to mop up the mess.
I’m thinking of standing for Parliament and will probably fight a campaign on a crime and order ticket for Chelsea. Top of my policies will, naturally, be to bring back the birch for all petty crimes – anti-social behaviour, vandalism etc – and double strokes for muggers and, of course, burglars.
Call me old fashioned, but I seriously think a spot of public flogging in Sloane Square would clean up the scum more quickly than non-sentences from weak, PC-driven judges, extra free money and holidays abroad paid for by the State.
Be a good fellow and pass me the black shirt.
I am sickened and utterly infuriated to see the way our country is being led. Never before in my life have I felt so politically motivated than now.
We suffered years of false promises under that lying charlatan Tony Blair and now we continue to be ruled by this (unelected) conniving and hopeless lame duck of a Prime Minster in Gordon Brown. How can this be so?
Surely we are edging ever closer to a revolution? It is time the right-thinking, honest, great silent majority who make this country tick stood up and marched on Westminster to force Brown to call an election. Britain MUST be able to move on. We MUST be heard.
Forget the low life who milk the Nanny State while thieving from everyone else, or the super rich who float above all the fallout from this political mess. It is down to US. It is time for the normal, law abiding, tax paying folk to make their voice heard.
This Government is toast. And, to use the cockney slang: Gordon is brown bread.
NEWS FLASH: My home was burgled last night while my family and I slept upstairs.
Some jolly piece of slime, fish-hooked the front door keys through the letter box, let themselves in and filled their pockets with some of our kit. They took my wallet and cash and my treasured watch – a Breitling Premier from 1998. It was reasonably expensive – £2,000 – but had plenty of irreplaceable sentimental value. It actually cost me nothing because I won it in the Harbour Club tennis competition ten years ago. It’s the only thing I have bloody won, so how valuable is that!?
Worst still, they took my wife’s much cherished “Stalk” bag and her expensive purse – both presents for her 40th birthday last year. On top of this, they took my car keys and ransacked the car, taking the hi-fi system. They left the car. Clearly my ten year old Saab with the knackered non-convertible roof ain’t worf the bovver.
They also took our mobile phones, so if you get a few dodgy calls on your ********747 private mobile number Richard (Branson), many apologies.
If any of you get offered any of this gear down the boozer some time from some thieving scum, do give me a call. I hate these people with a vengeance, but if there were no buyers for stolen gear, they would be out of business in a heart beat.
I must be getting touchy in my advancing years, but I am irked by Stephen Fry’s delight in slandering the entire journalistic profession. He calls journalists “venal and disgusting” in his hissy little tirade to Michael Crick on Newsnight.
Fry has had his bent snout in the trough of publicity for decades for the convenience of promoting his wares and journalists have helped him no end in the advancement of his success.
It would be good to see the media snap back a little and ban Fry from all interviews. His publicists would love that. If journalists are that bad, matey, why talk to them at all?
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