Could the number 13 be the reason Halcyon Hall has failed to sell?
Several over the top Californian residences we’ve featured on The Steeple Times, namely the $40,000,000 Chateau d’Or in Bel Air and the $87,000,000 Villa del Lago on the Newport coast, were properties that have seen huge price reductions. Though $15,000,000 has been sliced off the asking price of the Bel Air pad, it remains unsold and meanwhile Villa del Lago, now renamed One Pelican Hill Road, achieved just $18.5 million in a bankruptcy auction. It sold for less than a quarter of what the developer originally sought for it.
The 25,000 square foot Chateau d’Or, 10425 West Sunset Boulevard, Bel Air, Los Angeles, California, CA 90077 first came on the market at $40,000,000 in 2009. At $25,000,000, it still hasn’t sold.One Pelican Hill Road North, Newport Coast, Newport Beach, Orange County, California, CA 92657 was originally on the market for $87,000,000. It eventually sold at a bankruptcy auction for just $18,500,000 and features a 17,706 square foot Italianate mansion with 8 bedrooms and 17 bathrooms. Additional features number staff accommodation, a gatehouse, garaging for 17 cars, a 1-acre lake with terraced waterfalls, a tennis court, stabling and a riding area and a private vineyard with a wine cave.
We believed monstrous white elephants like these were confined to the US, but we are afraid we’ve come across something today that truly proves otherwise. The behemoth we refer to is a 14,000 square foot house in Radlett, Hertfordshire. Built in 2005 for a businessman named Barry Beck, “Halcyon Hall” stands on the site of a far more modest property that was simply known as 11 Newlands Avenue.
The phrase “halcyon days” refers to “the seven days of winter when storms never occur” in the Greek myth of Alycone but whether this inspired Beck in naming this place is unknown. He and his wife, Pauline, did, however, decide upon an “Elizabethan theme” for the residence and our pictures illustrate their extravagantly eccentric tastes adequately.
Halcyon Hall, 11 Newlands Avenue, Radlett, Hertfordshire, WD7 8EHThe entrance hall is guarded by a pair of knights in full suits of armourThe hall and entertaining salon is far from understatedThe main staircase is guarded by a life-size bearThe dining room attempts to look ElizabethanWhilst the kitchen dabbles with medieval meets “The Real Housewives of New York”Decorating mish-mash continues in a formal entertaining spaceAnd the “games gallery” isn’t exactly neutral eitherThe master bedroom suite takes “over-the-top” to another levelBut it is the thirteen seat cinema that we find most curious
Undoubtedly the construction of this vast Hertfordshire crib is of a high quality but the look is nothing other than ludicrous. Here is a mix of pastiche, ostentatiousness and just plain odd. Not even a WAG could have come up with décor this curious and such things as a private cinema with 13 seats can plainly not be the choice of someone who follows the curse of the hangman’s noose.
This 7-bedroomed house, which stands in 1.17 acres, would strangely, though, be ideal for someone who is a little paranoid. As well as all the security features you’d expect of any multi-million pound mansion in the Home Counties, it also includes a bathroom that doubles as a panic room. If you close the door in a certain way, steel bars supposedly come down making sure no intruder can follow you inside.
Two knights in full suits of armour guard the entrance hallway and a life-size stuffed bear stands dominant in the games gallery of the house. Plainly this beast’s not persuaded anyone to bite yet as whilst the price of Halcyon Hall has fallen from £15,000,000 in February 2011 to just under £13,000,000 in November 2012, the house remains on the market. We suspect that the curse of “Unlucky Thirteen” may well be alive and well somewhere between numbers 11 and 15 Newlands Avenue.
Halcyon Hall, 11 Newlands Avenue, Radlett, Hertfordshire, WD7 8EH is for sale through Statons. For more information telephone: +44 (0) 20 8445 3694 or email:[email protected]
The flexible £12.75 million former home of Tom Ford
Number 26 Gilston Road in London’s SW10 is a property that has been on and off the market repeatedly in recent years. On each and every occasion it has been promoted as the “former home of the fashion icon Tom Ford” and though he hasn’t lived there in years, it is still just as he left it.
Designer and film producer Tom Ford“The former home of design icon Tom Ford”: 26 Gilston Road, London, SW10 9SS
Situated at the end of a terrace on the corner of Priory Walk, one can see why the house appealed to the Texan born designer credited with turning around the fortunes of Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent. Hidden behind a high wall and hedging, 26 Gilston Road is private yet minutes from the restaurants of Old Brompton and Fulham Roads.
This 4-storey townhouse was sold in June 1997 for £2,250,000 and again marketed in 2009 for £8,500,000 through Aylesford. In the time since, it has been available to let at prices ranging from £5,500 to £7,500 per week, but is now back for sale at the extraordinary figure of £12,750,00 through Russell Simpson.
One of the reception rooms, just as Tom Ford left itAnother of the Tom Ford styled roomsA Tom Ford designed bedroomThe garden of the property is extremely private
What explains such a rise during a period of economic downturn? Well, it’s because developers Equilibrium have gained permission to “de-Ford” the house. As is now the trend in London, they have planned a total redesign. Their illustrations incorporate a new sub-basement and as a result the gross internal area will increase from just over 3,700 square feet to just under 5,300 square feet.
Equilibrium’s plans include a vast living-dining-kitchen with a study in the void over. The space is lit by a skylight.A cutaway shows the extent of the redevelopment plannedA view of 26 Gilston Road from the corner of Priory Walk
Whilst the layout Tom Ford, himself a graduate in architecture from Parsons The New School of Design, created at 26 Gilston Road was ideal for A Single Man; the new floor plan with 4 bedrooms is much better suited to a family. Ford and his partner, Richard Buckley, announced the birth of their son, Alexander, in September. Perhaps they should put in a bid.
A £26 million residence with connections to rock, royalty and rectors
Built in the early 1500s, The Old Rectory is Wimbledon’s oldest house. Standing in grounds of 2.5 acres, this 16,200 square foot property was once described by a biographer of Sir Henry Cecil as being “not luxurious, but adequate” but now once again it finds itself in an entirely different league.
An image of The Old Rectory, 82 Church Road, Wimbledon, London, SW19 5AA in 1978. Present day imagery has been removed at the request of agents acting for the current owners.
Priced at £26,000,000, it is almost certainly one of the most expensive homes to ever come to the market in Wimbledon and whoever moves there next will undoubtedly be either an oligarch, an A-list personality or a top achieving business person.
The purchaser will follow in the footsteps of a fascinating array of historically important residents, the first of whom was Henry VIII (1491 – 1547). The King took up residence in 1547 in the months prior to his death and is said, as he was so bloated, to have been unable to climb the stairs to his sleeping chambers. His bed was relocated to the great hall of the house and here he slept next to the fire. Historical research recounts that, with a brewhouse, beer and wine cellars, a coal cellar, meat room, buttery and two dairy rooms, this was a “house fit for a king.”
Henry VIII (1491 – 1547)Catherine Parr (1512 – 1548)
Henry VIII gave The Old Rectory, which was originally called The Parsonage House, to his sixth and final wife, Catherine Parr (1512 – 1548). Preferring a residence in Chelsea, Parr left and the Dean and Chapter of Worcester Cathedral took possession. A lease was sold to Sir William Cecil (1520 – 1598), later Lord Burgley, and the manor then passed to his son Thomas Cecil (1542 – 1623), the 1st Earl of Exeter.
In 1639, Charles I (1600 – 1649) bought the entire manor and gave it to Queen Henrietta Maria (1609 – 1669) but with the era of Comwell, The Old Rectory found itself occupied by General John Lambert (1619 – 1684). Shortly after, when a grander house was built next door, the property became first a laundry house and then servant accommodation and gradually fell into decline.
The Old Rectory passed next to Sir Theodore Janssen (1658 – 1748) in 1720. This French-born English financier, who was said to be worth the staggering sum of £250,000 at the time of his purchase of the house, was a founder member of the Bank of English but later disgraced for his part in the South Sea Bubble. He was expelled from the House of Commons and with his ruination, The Old Rectory saw yet another chapter of abandonment.
The garden front of The Old Rectory by Charles Henry Money Mileham (1837 – 1917)
By 1802, the house was described as an “uninhabited” ruin. A speculator credited with developing “modern Wimbledon” named John Augustus Beaumont bought it and restored and extended it but when it was sold to a Samuel Wilson in 1882 for £6,000, an era of truly comprehensive upgrades was to begin. Wilson added a pebble-dashed two-storey drawing room wing, carved oak doors and installed English, Flemish and Italian chimneypieces.
The next owner was a marine engineer named Matthias Jacobs who had been responsible for the construction of tunnels in Paris and New York. After having purchased The Old Rectory in 1909, he commissioned his brother to add a new single storey billiards room, a service wing and a study extension to mask the medieval chapel of the house. Jacobs sold up in 1923 to a Thomas Lethaby, who fitted oak paneling from Chantry House in Newark and a plaster ceiling based on the one at Knole House, Kent.
Lord Brock FRCS, FRCP (1903 – 1980)
In 1953, the eminent London surgeon and cardiologist, Lord Brock FRCS, FRCP (1903 – 1980), took possession of The Old Rectory after having paid £13,750 for it. Brock is credited as on of the pioneers of modern open heart surgery and also founded the Lord Brock Memorial Trust that to this day funds the museum he founded, The Old Operating Theatre Museum and Herb Garret in Southwark, SE1.
Following the death of his first wife Germaine Louise Ladavèze, Brock sold to an Iraqi entrepreneur and philanthropist named Basil Faidhi in 1978. Faidhi had fled Iraq for Britain and though he spent vast sums restoring the house with assistance from English Heritage, he also created a basement discotheque for his daughter, Nina, and a bar. Aside from bringing the house into the “yuppie era,” Faidhi also commissioned a historian named Richard Milward MA to write a history of the building in 1992 entitled: The Rectory – Wimbledon’s Oldest House.
The Queen lead vocalist and anti-badger cull campaigner Brian May CBE purchased The Old Rectory in 1994 for £4,000,000 with the intention of living there with the Eastenders actress Anita Dobson.
Brian May CBE with his second wife Anita Dobson
Dobson, who didn’t marry May until 2008, had other ideas and refused to move in. It was suggested that she preferred a smaller house the pair occupied in Kensington and, at the time, a friend commented:
“[May] begged her to move into the new house so they can make a fresh start. Nobody can believe that Anita doesn’t want to be the lady of this fabulous house. But Brian says he can’t get through to her.”
Sir Donald Insall CBE
As a result, May never properly moved into The Old Rectory and eventually decided to sell. In 2006, it achieved a record price of £16,000,000 and in the ensuing years, an Italian architect-owner named Antonella Carminati and her husband have lavished time and money on further restorations with the help of Sir Donald Insall CBE’s Insall Associates firm of architects.
The driveway that leads to The Old Rectory from Church Road gives plenty of privacy
New fittings have been installed throughout and substantial extensions to the house have included a new kitchen and breakfast room with garaging beneath. The couple have demolished an early 20th century porch and an “unsightly” oak conservatory, remodeled the billiards room as a drawing room and removed a “bilious” blue swimming pool from the east lawn.
Now featuring 12,882 square foot of accommodation in the main house and 3,320 square foot of additional accommodation, The Old Rectory has been planned to include 8 reception rooms; a vast kitchen with La Cornue appliances and an adjoining breakfast room; master bedroom suite with two dressing rooms, his and her bathrooms and a sitting room and 7 further bedrooms.
Outside, the gardens feature an original medieval fig tree trail, shaded paths, lawns and a large pond as well as garaging for six cars. Planning permission for an indoor swimming pool complex has also been granted and ample staff accommodation is provided above one of the garages and in the gate lodge.
Given the now limited financial resources of the traditional religious houses of Britain, will it be rock, royalty or new money that next takes possession of The Old Rectory? The historians of Wimbledon will undoubtedly be watching.
The Old Rectory, 82 Church Road, Wimbledon, London, SW19 5AA is for sale through the Wimbledon office of Knight Frank. For more information call: +44 (0) 20 8946 0026.
Christian Huhnt reports on recent changes at Cassis restaurant
As I work in the arts and also collect wines, I find Cassis Bistro in South Kensington most comfortable as here I find myself surrounded by great works by Julian Opie, Gary Hume and Henri Matisse alongside as a humongous and well-stocked wine rack at the back of the restaurant. Cassis is part of Marlon Abela’s restaurant group, Marc, which also includes The Greenhouse, Umu, Morello Bistro and Morton’s.
Cassis Bistro’s decor cleverly combines wine and artParty guests at Cassis Bistro, 232 – 236 Brompton Road, London, SW3 2BB
It was with anticipation, therefore, that I accepted an invitation to celebrate the arrival of Cassis’s new head chef, “le nouveau moteur de cuisine,”Massimiliano Blasone. Wait a minute: “Blasone”? That doesn’t sound to French to me. And indeed, he isn’t. This Italian chef made his name at Heinz Beck’s Michelin-starred Apsleys at The Lanesborough Hotel on Hyde Park Corner.
The first thing that I asked myself was: “What is an Italian chef doing in a French kitchen?” More importantly: “What is an Italian chef doing in a restaurant that has made its goal,” according to their own marketing material, “to deliver: The finest Provençal cuisine in London?”
A leaflet promoting the “Provençal” cuisine on offer at Cassis
After consulting the restaurant’s PR she told me the new idea is to “cook Provençal cuisine with an Italian influence.” What the heck? Why not add a Nigerian limbo dancer making sushi or a Muslim serving pork pies?
Continuing, she told me that the former chef had left as he’d decided to open his own restaurant. I recall once having a delightful lunch when that particular chef was still at Cassis, roughly one year ago, and remember how tasteful and typically Provençal it actually was.
Starting, as ever, with the drinks, I let the waiter choose my first one. He gave me a “Cassis Collins” which is supposedly the house cocktail. A mix of gin, crème de cassis soda, blackcurrant purée and lemon juice. Sadly, I could only really taste the lemon and overall it was too watery. It tasted as if it had been mixed 30-minutes prior to my arrival.
Jessica Patterson and Steffen Timm at Cassis
I quickly changed to an Italian classic, a Negroni, which was strong but cool. This was far more impressive. Steffen Timm, my companion and food connoisseur, went for a non-alcoholic cocktail with the notion to spare his palate for tasting the food later on, but while sipping at it he almost got a sugar shock and therefore turned to the booze too.
While sat at the bar, I found myself surrounded by some delightful locals and regulars. Things were most definitely on the up. After nibbling one grissini after another, finally the food arrived, but it came at such a speed that I struggled to keep up. Not even finished with a typically Italian dish of tagliatelle con tartufo bianco, the kind waiter offered me some superb raw tuna served in a Middle East Asian style with bulgur. Having barely swallowed this, the next dishes presented to me were a pumpkin tortellini with truffles, followed by oysters with sourcream and cucumber. Quail’s eggs with truffles, a lamb saddle with ratatouille (which was probably the only ‘kind-of-Provençal’ canapé) and finally some perfectly made risotto with yet more truffles brought things to a crescendo. My love affair with truffles is well known and some readers may recall my sharing that with you in my review of Honky Tonk. I must say, however, that this particular dish was more reminiscent of something that one might find in a chic restaurant in St Tropez than in the Provençal settings I am used to.
Provençal-style lamb saddle with ratatouille
Although Cassis is delightful and I enjoyed an evening of conversation and company, sadly, this new kitchen seems to have lost its ethos and now lacks the authentic Provençal character that made it so good. I urge the management to return to the quintessentially rustic and traditional roots that first made the place so appealing.
“Why pay less when you can pay more?” is a mantra that some strangely choose to live by. In my time, I have encountered a couple with a different Ferrari for each day of the week, someone who proudly declared their home had a window for each day of the year and an heiress who insists upon the local baker feeding her dog daily with a freshly baked caviar pie.
When I discovered a house in California priced at $78,000,000, I didn’t expect to subsequently find out that the same vendor is also selling another of his homes in Montana at the very same price. Having done a little research into Donald G. Abbey, the commercial real estate tycoon who owns both The Bradbury Estate and Shelter Island, I discovered that here indeed is another personality whose excess knows no bounds.
I suppose when people sell homes of this worth, the asking price they set is quite irrelevant. “What,” I’m sure they ask, “is $5 million between friends?” Equally, when it comes to developing such properties, characters of this nature do not show any reserve. Bling is most definitely the order of the day and the larger and flashier one can build, I guess, the better.
An aerial shot of The Bradbury Estate, 172 Bliss Canyon Road, Bradbury, California, CA 91008, USAThe front elevation of the main houseThe owner and his guests need not get wet on arrival in their limousines
Abbey’s Bradbury Estate is a case in point. This vast property consists of a 33,000 square foot main house with 7 bedrooms and 10 bathrooms. It is almost entirely made of French limestone and includes a chef’s kitchen with a pizza oven, a 2,000 bottle wine cellar, an oak paneled elevator and a leather paneled poker room. Bedrooms include domes with hand painted frescos and in addition there is a detached 6,700 square foot guest house above a 10 car garage and a 5,700 square foot pool house with a catering kitchen, gym, massage room and a subterranean EPA certified 25 yard rifle shooting range complete with a gun storage room and 2 large safes.
The hall of the main residence comes complete with a gallery and barA vast library provides the perfect space to enjoy a good bookThe library’s glazed ceilingAnother palatial reception roomThe house features a rather impressive kitchenMr Abbey’s copper bath tub comes complete with a mat displaying his initials in front of it
Within the 8 acre grounds there is a cross shaped infinity-edged pool – perhaps Mr Abbey is religious – that is “just a few feet short of Olympic length.” It requires 350,000 gallons of water if it is to be filled to capacity. Adjoining this is something even more ludicrous: a 1,000,000 gallon, temperature-controlled rainbow trout pond that cost some $8,000,000 to construct. The pond is said to be “adorned with perennials,” is heated by a custom gravity separator with UV filters and is “chilled for the trout by a 300-tonne central cooling plant.” At Bradbury, thoughts of water crisis in Sudan and Ethiopia come way behind the needs of Abbey’s rainbows.
The rear of the house viewed from above The Bradbury Estate’s $8,000,000 trout pondThe estate’s 350,000 gallon near Olympic length cross shaped infinity edged swimming poolThe property’s EPA certified 25 yard rifle range
For those wanting to avoid California’s UV rays, Bradbury also boasts an acre of porches, decks, loggia and walkways. A 600ft blue stone driveway completes this “once in a lifetime trophy property” that “belongs in the portfolio of the most astute collector” and it has space for “60 foot truck access or multiple limousines.”
When Mr Abbey has tired of California, he is able to retreat to his own island in Montana. The 24 acre Shelter Island on Flathead Lake includes 7,000 feet of frontage to the water, a world class sporting clay course and 3 computer controlled tracks and docking systems that allow boats to be landed in the dry dock without riders ever leaving the craft or handling a line. The island is powered via an underground armoured utility cable that carry 12,000 amps to it along with CAT-5 computer cable and phonelines and the main entertaining space features a mammoth television of some 120-inches in size.
An aerial view of Donald G. Abbey’s Shelter IslandMr Abbey’s passion for copper continues with a conservatory made out of the metal on the lakeside elevation of the main residence on Shelter IslandThe Great Room of the main residence on Shelter IslandMr Abbey’s passion for fine wines is displayed in a bar and tasting room in the propertyThe owner and his guests can access their boats without having to go anywhere near the water
Abbey has built over 44,000 square foot of accommodation on his island. The main house has 5 bedrooms and 8 bathrooms. His “Great Room” features ceilings of some 45 foot in height and in addition to yet another indoor shooting range, there is a kitchen that woudn’t look out of place in The Savoy hotel.
In the UK, the property most similar to anything Abbey has built has to be Updown Court at Windlesham in Surrey. Developed by a former bricklayer named Leslie Allen-Vercoe, the house was described by him as being: “The most important residence to be built in England since the 19th century.” Architectural critics did not agree and some went as far as to say that it looked like: “A cross between a Tesco superstore and Center Parcs.”
Allen-Vercoe’s behemoth of a house is gargantuan in size. With 103 rooms it includes 24 bedrooms, 5 swimming pools, a 2-lane bowling alley, a squash court, a floodlit tennis court, a 50-seat cinema and a panic room. The heated driveway that led to the house is entirely made of marble and cost some £2.5 million to construct but plainly none of this appealed to the market as it languished for sale at a price of £70,000,000 from 2006 to 2011 before being repossessed by the Irish National Asset Management Agency (NAMA). Updown Court was sold for half the original asking price to a foreign buyer in October 2011 and is, I believe, due to undergo extensive remodeling.
Updown Court, Chertsey Road, Windlesham, Surrey, GU20 6HY, UK
Allen Vercoe once stated: “If Elton John were a house, he’d be Updown Court.” Equally, I imagine if Mr Abbey’s residences were to be compared to any celebrities they’d be the vulgar car crash that is Donatella Versace and the ludicrous money obsessed singer with a dollar sign in her name, Ke$ha.
Updown Court, Shelter Island and The Bradbury Estate all illustrate that money cannot buy you good taste. I suppose, though, that those who ultimately come to live in them will have plenty of space to choose how and where to enjoy their own form of misery.
For information on both The Bradbury Estate and Shelter Island, contact Bob Hurwitz of the Hurwitz James Company on +1 310-477-8865. Website: http://www.hurwitzjamesco.com
Georgea Blakey shares her experiences of Miss World 2012
“Welcome to the holly [sic] land of Genghis Khan. The city of green and pleasant cool.”
These are the words written on the side of the car collecting me from Ordos airport. The light summer breeze blowing through this wealthy oil and mineral rich town in the middle of the verdant grasslands of Inner Mongolia is indeed known as the coolest place in China. It now has another reason for the accolade: it is hosting Miss World 2012.
Recreating Abbey Road with Misses Northern Ireland, Scotland, UK, Wales and USAGeorgia Blakey does the Miss World pose with Misses Mexico and Panama
I’m going to be sharing the same itinerary as the contestants during the last week of this month long competition. We are being spoilt rotten at The Crowne Plaza Hotel, a huge swanky palace of a building that wouldn’t be out of place in Dubai. Normally reserved for visiting heads of state and presidents, there is marble everywhere.
The enormous glass dome above the lobby floods sun light onto a throng of beauty contestants. Their chaperones, friends and family are all tapping onto their mobile devices. It is the only place to get the odd burst of WiFi.
The Chinese government has banned Facebook for political reasons, much to the chagrin of these young ladies. Miss Scotland knows that she has 54 messages awaiting her and she can’t wait to open them as soon as she touches down at Gatwick.
The song, Puff the Magic Dragon springs to mind as the air reeks of nicotine, the Chinese are smoking enthusiastically as though it was England pre-2007. Amidst this chaos, I’m trying to have a coffee and a chat with another glamorous brunette, Julia Morley, the irreducible core of Miss World.
In the UK, the media perceived political correctness resulted in the show being yanked off our screens around the same time that the Benny Hill show was pulled. Showing too many scantily clad girls plainly didn’t go down well with the UK’s liberal elite.
In fact, the opposition to the wearing of bikinis led to their replacement with more modest swimwear after only the first contest. In 1959, the BBC started broadcasting Miss World. The pageant’s popularity grew during the 1960s and 1970s and the competition would normally be the highest rated programme of the year, regularly pulling in around 30 million viewers.
I ask Morley how she feels about being exiled from the mainstream channels in her home country: “It does bother me,” she says, “because Britain has a load of old trash on TV nowadays and…. I’m British!”
I nod in agreement, having long been stunned by the hypocrisy. I think of the hapless victims that are lined up in front of Julien MacDonald and Elle Macpherson to be told they can’t get ahead because they are: “Too boring, ordinary, nothing special, cross eyed, have no personality and look average.” This is just some of the charming critique heard on the current series of Britain’s Next Top Model. That is pure and simple exploitation for TV ratings.
Morley goes on to say: “I think the public would like to see it back. We’ve evolved so much. We even have a series of new and interesting features including special awards for talent, charitable projects, media and sporting skills.”
“If it was just girls gyrating on stage in bikinis I wouldn’t be here,” says Morley. “It really is the most fascinating job you can have.’”
“We have such a mixture of entrants; teachers, architects and even a trainee nuclear physicist. It wouldn’t matter if we had a check out assistant from Tesco’s. All are welcome.”
I personally don’t think Julia Morley need worry about Britain’s lack of interest as there is more than enough coverage elsewhere around the globe. Google and Sina (the vast Chinese internet network) are partners and over 100 countries will be broadcasting it live to over a billion. It will be shown on the popular American satellite channel E! entertainment, which also airs in the UK and Ireland. Because of their success, they are engaged for at least the next five years.
Bready, steady, go!
It’s lunchtime and I’m curious to find out what a modern day beauty queen eats.
The girls have been rehearsing in the impressive newly built Dongsheng stadium, a sort of Mongolian O2. This “glossy posse” have been on their feet since 7.30am and are so ravenous that like gazelles in stilettos they leap off the fleet of buses used to ferry them about and then do a Usain like bolt to the hotel restaurant.
Shock horror. Miss England eats carbs. They all do. Chips, pastries, pasta and anything starchy are the favourites. They are all desperate to avoid getting a dodgy stomach so like to stick to plain and filling food and steer well clear of the crispy chicken claws and pig’s willows.
It’s survival of the fittest at the buffet bar. Sporty Charlotte Holmes, representing the UK as Samantha Brick was otherwise engaged in the Celebrity Big Brother house, advises me to use my elbows otherwise I won’t get a look in. They eat like soldiers about to go on manoeuvres.
Miss Paraguay and Miss Israel practice their winning faces
Spontaneous choruses of happy birthday ring out in Cantonese, Chinese, Spanish and English as Miss Colombia is celebrating turning 21. She is presented with a chocolate cake, a Miss World tradition. She is delighted and trills: “It’s not often you get to spend your birthday with 115 other girls and get sung to in four different languages.”
I take a seat next to Sophie Moulds, the jaw-droppingly beautiful Miss Wales. She may be studying for a degree in business management but tells me she has a thing about jam. She likes it on everything: crackers, croissants and even noodles. She’s not fussy. She went as far as to ask for some on her toast this morning. With her very strong lilt it’s no easy task for a Mongolian waitress to understand her. Hardly any of the locals speak English, so an awful lot gets lost in translation.
She had to resort to miming the action of spreading jam onto a slice of bread. She thought she’d had a break through when the perplexed attendant at last nodded vociferously and shot back into the kitchen. Thirty minutes later (it takes a long time to get anything done here), to her chagrin, Miss Wales was presented with a tube of wasabi paste.
I am happy to report that these girls eat well. No stick insects here, just healthy and curvy women. Sorry to disappoint, but there is no artifice, no fake tan, not even a nail or hair extension. Natural is key but there is a more practical reason. Any of these beauty aids would be impossible to maintain over five weeks on the road without access to professional salons.
Yakkety Yak
There are 116 contestants staying here along with their 16 chaperones. Each chaperone has 6-8 girls to look after. There are also the Miss World crew, technicians, cameramen, judges, presenters, production staff, security, translators and volunteers. All in all there are about 500 of us.
When you imagine Mongolia, you think of yaks and yurts but it’s not like that at all. That might be the case in the countryside, but Ordos is a thriving city. The wide tree-lined boulevards, studded with modern apartment blocks look like anything you may see in a big American city. The only yakking going on around here comes from the girls. It’s obvious they all adore one another and chat and gossip happily. I notice no bitchiness. They have genuinely become friends after so long on the road with each other.
We are all at the stadium for another rehearsal. The floor manager, Stickie, has just finished directing a cast of 16,000 at the Olympic opening ceremony and is now directing an equally mesmerising cast of 116 here. The circular stage is shaped like a traditional yurt, the amphitheatre is filled with the sound of Mongolian drums beating like the hooves of galloping horses. It feels like the start of an epic opening music sequence from a Hollywood film or a Mongolian River Dance. A crash of symbols and then a rainbow of girls appear, quickly followed by excited toddlers in traditional embroidered outfits, and balletic warriors pirouette with swords. It is a kaleidoscope of colour. This is Mollywood!
Various international guests have been booked to perform, one of them a renowned black opera star, Rodrick Dixon, fresh from a stint at the New York Met, appears in jeans and a khaki shirt and practices “Somewhere” from West Side Story. It is sung so powerfully that we are all in tears, cheering. He gets a standing ovation and it’s only half past two.
Even though it isn’t even a dress rehearsal these Amazonian young women look like they just stepped out of the pages of Vogue. All the participants agree that Miss Venezuela definitely has the best wardrobe. She arrived with eight suitcases brimming with designer garb and kindly leant some of it to the unfortunate few whose suitcases were lost in transit.
Donna, the choreographer, helps 116 drained damsels learn their steps. She makes sure that when they walk onto the stage they are comfortable and confident. The contest is a 5-week “festival of beauty” that has toured China and Mongolia, visiting all the top attractions. This is a contest where there are photo shoots at sunrise in the singing dunes of the Gobi Desert for which they had to start hair and make up at 3.30am.
A particular highlight was recounted by Miss England, Charlotte Holmes, who if she had won would have been the first ever IVF Miss World. She recalls visiting a nomadic tribe in the midst of a traditional wedding ceremony:
“Basically they got the bride drunk, saddled her with a massive head dress that effectively blinded her, put her on a horse, led her round a field for a bit and then came back to the yurt and drank some more. It was my kind of wedding,” she chirps.
She and her comrades also formed a camel train across the desert, catwalked the silk route, churned yoghurt in a local ger (yurt) and were treated to a front row seat at the archery, wrestling and horse riding competitions that form the basis of the centuries old Nadaam Festival that formally commemorates the 1921 revolution when Mongolia declared itself a free country. Without exception, everyone of these young lovelies has learnt so much from their Mongolian adventure.
The girls always rehearse in their vertiginous pumps as it is paramount to get the correct ambulatory timings from exits left to right. Flats would give a false reading. Agglutinant Cola is liberally spattered across the stage to stop the girls slipping.
Though the girls do have every opportunity to change into trainers when they have finished, that would be unthinkable. Morley states that unless you tell them that they are going to be walking through mud and slush they won’t be separated from their sparkly platforms: “You know young girls love their heels but as far as I’m concerned they can wear what they bloody well like!”
“One world, one dream, let us share our hearts together in a place where we all belong”
The bearded musical director, Mike Dixon, is conducting the candidates as they sing The Miss World song. More usually found working with such acclaimed artists as Dame Shirley Bassey and the team of We Will Rock You, he loves toiling on this: “You have to remember that these women are all essentially amateurs, I enjoy getting the best I can out of them.”
“Hey Brazil, you dropped your phone.”
“Oh thank you Iceland!” The girls all call each other by country names as they’re easier to remember.
Mylene Klass and Miss England
I’m wondering if things could get any more surreal when I bump into a sequin clad, Myleene Klass emerging from her dressing room. Klass has been called upon not only for her mixed race appeal but for her extremely competent presenting skills. Svelte, graceful and smart, she is the epitome of the Miss World philosophy. She has been paired up with an American soap star, Days of Our Lives heartthrob, Jason Cook. The two of them are practicing reading from the autocue machine. There is a lot of jokey banter and Cook is quite the comedian:
“Myleene, I hear you are an internationally famous presenter, or is that just Hear’Say?” Myleene groans and retorts: “Gosh, an American with a British sense of humour.”
Suddenly there is the sound of rapid gunfire. Jason quips: “Are we under attack?!” Thankfully, it’s just some wedding fireworks going off outside. There are certainly no protestors or feminist flour bombers here. The local populace is thrilled to bits to have us and think any mention of sexism or exploitation is a load of old pigs’s willows.
Myleene is wowed by the calibre of the entrants this year. For every girl that enjoys movies, fashion and baking there are another three who are studying economics, medicine and psychology. “These are my kind of ladies,” she states.
Miss Northern Ireland, a sailing champion and budding presenter, approaches her for some advice and Myleene helpfully allows her to listen to her in her earpiece.
Bird Flu
Having been sequestered in the auditorium for four days I get the rare opportunity to take some of the girls out for a much needed break from the Ground Hog Day like slog of rehearsals. We are window (or rather stall) shopping in a busy local market. Rows of little blue tents are adorned with their wares; dangling dead ducks and insects, a myriad of crystals and PVC handbags. I find it rather reminiscent of Portobello Market.
We had intended to visit Genghis Khan’s mausoleum but our head security guard, a very debonair ex-military man, whom the ladies call James Bond, said the schedule was far too tight to risk the 2-hour round trip in case of traffic. “00 Heaven” is accompanying us to stop us getting mobbed. Wherever this “caravan of contestants” travels, it attracts a lot of attention.
Like the Beatles hitting America, everyone goes wild behind their little white facemasks. I presume they wear them as they are worried about catching avian flu. With so many birds around, it’s not an unreasonable precaution. They’re also constantly hacking up what could be fur balls of phlegm and lift up their masks to spit them onto the pavement.
Crouching Lady, Hidden Toilet
I ask someone where the loo is: “Over there, Good Luck!” Why the words of encouragement? It all became horrifyingly clear. I opened the door and climbed tentatively up some wooden steps to the portaloo from hell. There was no actual toilet to speak of. I thought: “Has it been nicked?” I looked down and saw that it was just a shallow hole in an aluminium floor. In the reeking recess was a large stool neatly coiled into the shape of a cinnamon twirl. There was a 3 cm high curved metal edge on one side of the perimeter. Perhaps this was a helpful bum rest should one unwisely decide to actually sit down or perhaps it was a splashguard in case you squatted. There wasn’t any loo paper or a washbasin but there was a handy mirror.
Miss Israel outside the rather lovely portaloos
The camera guys find it a fairly unpleasant experience so imagine how ghastly it is for the girls. It’s rather tricky gathering up their flowing dresses and crouching down in their Jimmy Choo’s. They have taken to crossing their long thoroughbred legs and holding it for as long as they can. They are drinking so much water to avoid getting dehydrated under the heat of the stadium lights, that when they do finally go they pee like racehorses.
Beauty with a Purpose
You cannot talk about Miss World without mentioning the aspect of it that separates it from every other international beauty pageant. The contestants have to be passionate about charitable causes and they work hard to prove themselves.
The premise of this award is simple: Use your talents to help those less fortunate. Comediennes utilise their funny bones to raise money for Comic Relief, well think of this as Beauty Relief.
Chief Mandela and Georgea Blakey
I have been invited to Morley’s hotel suite and am sitting on a sofa between a former Asian Miss World and all 6’4″ of Chief Mandela, here representing his grandfather, Nelson, who is himself a strong supporter of The Miss World Organisation. The Chinese word “Junzi” would describe him well: “A man of noble character or status who is upright and benevolent.”
We are shown gut wrenching videos of each contestant’s chosen cause. There is harrowing footage of disadvantaged children from around the planet. There is a lot more to the modern day beauty queen than meets the eye. I’m astounded as I see Miss Kazakstan, a qualified paediatrician, hold a stethoscope to sick children’s chests. In hers, Miss India campaigns for the education of not only the slum children of Mumbai but also their mothers too. Miss Portugal is shown visiting an old people’s home in a protest against the abandonment of the elderly and Miss Canada is trying to highlight the atrocities of human trafficking.
Miss US Virgin Islands, a reserve in the US army, salutes
Miss US Virgin Islands is a reserve in the US army and is only recently back from a year in Afghanistan where she narrowly missed a shell attack which destroyed the shower block. Miss France is a beauty that helps the beasts. She supports the Gallic version of the Battersea Dogs & Cats Home.
Misses aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty and I watch Nigeria and Kenya mucking in with the inhabitants of rural villages, crusading for clean water and waste disposal systems. The sanitation is so poor that I will never complain about a Mongolian loo again.
These videos are humbling, they put everything in perspective. I hear Chief Mandela sigh heavily, as upset as I am at man’s inhumanity to man.
That’s the emotional factor I have found about Miss World. One minute you are laughing hysterically, the next crying uncontrollably and we haven’t even got to the final yet.
The genuine dedication of these ladies to their causes fills me with awe and shame at my own lack of sisterly love. So often a Beauty Queen is mocked for the moniker: “I want to help heal the world and save the little children.”
I don’t see much difference between the Misses and Bob Geldof. He said he wanted to feed the world and he got knighted for his efforts.
This is Miss World goddammit. What the hell do you think they should look like?! Why are we opposed to beauty? How would Hollywood work if it went all PC on us? Do you think that Halle Berry (a former Miss USA) gets cast for her acting talent alone?
Life is inherently a beauty contest. Good looks open doors, but if they can also open a treasure chest and the spoils be divided amongst the poor, why not?
The Miss World Effect
I am chatting to the financial director, Michael Macario, about some of the other attractive figures involved. Miss World to date has raised over £250 million for charity.
Governments and tourist boards invite Miss World to their countries to promote tourism. When the show was broadcast from Sanya in China, the massive rise in visitors to the area was put down to the Miss World effect. The organisation was credited with changing the face of the industry. Ordos are hoping the same will happen here. Pretty girls make good marketing sense.
Let’s not forget though that the Morley family, (Julia’s son Stephen and grandson Ben are by her side) have run an incredibly successful business with a multi-million pound turnover for 62 years now. The brand is jealously guarded but has never been tarnished. Macario says there could have been loads more opportunities to make money but that is not their primary concern, BWAP is.
An auction held at a charity dinner last night raised enough money to send 30 local students to university. The contestants bring any item of cultural interest with them and supportive local businessmen bid furiously. It got quite competitive with many of the objects fetching over £10,000 each. Even Miss Seychelles’ s coconut shell achieved several hundred Yen. She told me she needed a permit to get it through customs. Craftily she removed the nut so it was lighter. It’s demanding enough lugging your suitcases half way across the world without the weight of a oversized nut adding to your excess baggage.
Dress rehearsal
I’m having a natter in the foyer with Miss Lebanon. In vest, shorts and flip flops with her hair in rollers she tells me how much she will miss her new friends.
Happy that their big day is finally upon them but devastated to be leaving one another the girls do at least have one bonus. Never again will any of them have to pay for a hotel room again, they can now travel the world staying with various members of their recently acquired family.
A very old and obviously myopic old man approaches and asks to have his picture taken with us. He points at my chest quizzically, alluding to my lack of a name badge.
“Wish Miss, Wish Miss?” Hurrah: I’ve just been mistaken for a contestant. I knew slapping on the war paint today was a good idea. “Miss Stake,” I jovially reply.
We board the buses for the stadium. I’m on number one bus, AKA “the party bus,” as the girls are most raucous, containing as it does, Miss England and the other Celts.
Today is the penultimate day of the competition and the girls are pre-recording the “Dances of the World” section in their national costumes.
Miss Equatorial Guinea’s grass skirt and boob tube combo are from a real tribal leader, so she apologises that it whiffs a bit. Her dance is rather vigorous to say the least so she needs tit tape to secure the top half.
Some of the costumes are utterly bizarre. Poor Miss Mexico has a replica of a deer head strapped onto her barnet. Miss Fiji, dressed as an eagle is sweating in her head to toe feather combo and Miss Bermuda could be mistaken for a traffic cop. Only Miss USA bucks the trend and skips out in cowboy boots and a T-shirt.
Miss Mexico and Miss Puerto Rico in national costumesMiss America with local children
It’s now time for the dress rehearsal and the girls can’t wait to rip off their costumes and slither into their more flattering final dresses. I zip up Miss Vietnam and lend Miss Bolivia some lip-gloss.
I shall announce the results in reverse order
It’s the day of the final. The hotel lounge is more packed than usual as a Chinese wedding is taking place. Bemused guests don’t know whether to take photos of the bride or the contestants. If I were the bride, I’d be a bit miffed! Aptly a Chinese cover version of Joe Jackson’s Stepping Out is being piped through the speakers.
It’s the last lunch and the girls aren’t holding back. Locust-like they descend on the feast before them ignoring any concerns about bloating. Perhaps they’ve packed some back up spanx so they can squeeze into their finery?
Andrew, the hair and make up guy, is late for lunch as he’s been bubbling over with adrenaline and nerves. He swears he can’t eat a thing. Just as well as there’s bugger all left.
I’m having some tea in the bar with Roderick and his graceful wife Alfreda, also an operatic name in her own right. We are nervously approached by a local student volunteer and her mother who timidly ask if they could tempt us with some home made noodles and dumplings that they’ve specially made for the singing superstars.
So, already full but not wanting to offend such a sweet gesture we sample some of their delicious offering. With the chances of me wearing my slinky party dress tonight diminishing with each bite I’m going to ask Miss Equatorial Guinea if I can borrow her grass skirt.
On every floor of every corridor hair and make up stations have been set up to process the competitors as they get ready for their big night. Imagine 116 brides fretting before their big day and you have some idea. It’s a flurry of eye shadow, powder and paint. Andrew is in charge of a team of Chinese beauticians wielding brushes and straighteners. Translators are on hand to prevent any jam-wasabi like mix ups. When Miss Israel asks for pink eye shadow, it wouldn’t do to start applying green.
The excited gaggle of girls alight the buses for the last time and toddle into the bowels of the stadium in a phalanx Genghis Khan would have been proud of. Tonight, we are an intimate audience of 6,000 in contrast to the opening ceremony, where there was an image of a jumbo jet projected onto an illuminated backdrop. It was so realistic that an audience of 40,000 ducked.
Apart from a slight mishap when Miss Malawi trod on Miss New Zealand’s dress, the show went smoothly and was a smash hit with the audience. I particularly liked some of the entertainment in particular a performance by an army of Mongolian horse cellists who could make their instruments whinny rhythmically.
The top threeMiss China get crowned Miss World 2012 by Miss World 2011 as Miss Wales looks on
“I shall announce the results, as is customary, in reverse order,” announces the lady in red, a resplendent Mrs Morley. The climax of a 3-hour extravaganza is upon us.
“Miss Australia, Miss Wales and Miss World 2012 is…,” drum roll…, “Miss… China!”
The flag waving home crowd are on their feet, sobbing and cheering. Though not everyone is as thrilled. Some of the foreign contingent are grumbling that the crowning of 23-year old music student, Wenxia Yu, was a political move. I’m not so sure as it’s undeniable that she was a worthy winner. Not only did she raise huge amounts for charity, but in the talent section of the contest, she sang so unbelievably beautifully that she made Katherine Jenkins sound like a strangled cat.
My conclusions
What have I learned from my week at Miss World?
– Never have your picture taken next to a beauty queen unless they’re in bare feet.
Georgea Blakey is a portrait artist, specialising in equestrian and wildlife subjects. Her commissions have taken her from the polo farms of Argentina and Palm Beach to the game reserves of South Africa. She was the art scholar at St Paul’s Girls School in London and went on to study at the prestigious Chelsea College of Art. She is equally at home painting humans and her subjects have included a portrait of His Royal Highness Prince Charles with his polo pony. She has produced numerous commissions, and some of her notable clients include Viscount and Viscountess Cowdray, the Sultan of Pahang, Sir Tim Rice, David Soul, Teddy Sherringham and Miss World.
A fearless child who set about improving school meals by posting photographs and rating the junk she was fed. Her blog, NeverSeconds, became an internet sensation and even Jamie Oliver backed her. Subsequently, bureaucrats at Argyll and Bute Council banned her from taking photographs but all that did was make her more famous. Good for her.
The sale of the £22,500,000 Clarence House in Richmond
Built in 1696 for a haberdasher merchant named Nathaniel Rawlins, Clarence House in Richmond was subsequently extended by his daughter, Elizabeth, before it became a Catholic school in 1792.
The exterior of the Grade II listed Clarence House, 2 The Vineyard, Richmond Hill, Surrey, TW10 6AQ
One student at the various schools that were subsequently run from the house was Bernardo O’Higgins, the liberator and founding father of Chile. Famous for his orders, which included such statements as: “Lads! Live with honour, or die with glory! He who is brave, follow me!” during the battle of El Roble, O’Higgins held office from 1817 to 1823. He was deposed by his former “closest ally” Ramón Freire in a conservative coup in January of that year, exiled to Peru and died due to cardiac problems in Lima in 1842.
Bernardo O’Higgins (1778 – 1842), 2nd Supreme Director of Chile
Between 1941 and 1947, Clarence House became a storage house for Fortnum & Mason. Their plans in 1943 to demolish the building and to replace it with a bakery, chocolate manufactory, store, tailoring shop and rooms for packing tea and coffee were not executed and in 1967 the house was purchased by the actor Brian Blessed.
Actor Brian Blessed (1936 – )
Blessed, known for his “sonorous voice and hearty, king-sized portrayals,” is a prolific performer who has appeared in Z-Cars, The Avengers, Lovejoy and Flash Gordon. After a successful campaign on the social network Facebook, Blessed became a voice option for TomTom’s satellite navigation devices in 2010 and he also holds the record being the oldest man to trek on foot to the magnetic North Pole. Married to Hildegarde Neil, an actress who appeared alongside Roger Moore in the The Man Who Haunted Himself, Blessed subsequently moved to Windlesham, also in Surrey.
A reception room designed by Taylor Howes DesignClarence House’s dining roomThe house’s ultra modern kitchen
Considered “one of the finest houses in South West London,” Clarence House has been restored by Taylor Howes Design, who also designed the Hotel Meyrick in Galway, Ireland. It now includes 6 reception rooms, a master suite of bedroom, sitting room, dressing room and bathroom and 5 further bedroom suites. An indoor swimming pool with an infinity style design, gymnasium, 2,000-bottle wine cellar, artist’s studio and 1 bedroom guest cottage complete the offering whilst landscaped gardens by Ross Allan boast magnolia trees, a terrace and water features.
Clarence House’s swimming pool
Priced at £22,500,000, whoever buys this fine residence will indeed be blessed with more than 10,000 square foot of accommodation. The price, however, is a far cry from the £25,000 Blessed paid for it back in 1967.
