Читать книгу Best Day of My Life: True stories to inspire, move and entertain - Told by a cross-section of the UK's celebrities and courageous everyday people - Giles Vickers Jones - Страница 13

Showbiz Reporter

Being a showbiz journalist is perhaps the greatest job in the world. I often think about what would have happened if I hadn’t fancied my chances on this circuit. There’s nothing else I could do, or even want to drag myself out of bed to do. It’s a constant stream of free bars, copious amounts of champagne and those delicious, cute little canapés. So trying to narrow my career so far down to just one amazing moment has been extremely difficult. I could mention the day I was interviewing five hunky, naked male celebrities in bed, rubbing shoulders with my childhood sweetheart Mark Owen or the hilarious day I had trying to recreate the iconic W Magazine photoshoot of Posh and Becks with Jade Goody and her boyfriend Jack Tweed – thinking about the best day of my life was extremely difficult.

I have had some fantastic, unbelievable moments in my career so far, some of the best days I will take to my grave with me, as any good journalist should do.

I’ve met heroes, Hollywood icons, numerous members of the naughty Brit Pack bunch and rubbed shoulders with my childhood sweetheart Mark Owen (did I mention that already?).

But none of that beats the moment I discovered I was being posted to Cannes, in France, to cover the prestigious, world-famous 60th Cannes Film Festival.

Cannes is a list of a who’s who from the movie world, people with big money, loads of cigars and caviar. I never dreamed I’d be there, but, despite the glamour, glitz and chaos, I couldn’t help but wonder if there might just be a KFC or McDonald’s …

I was being sent to capture exclusive stories on stars like U2, Pamela Anderson, Jude Law, Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio and just about anyone else I could get my hands on.

I was a Cannes virgin and totally bewildered by the hundreds of exclusive events promising world-famous talent, huge intimidating bodyguards ensuring no-invite-no-entry and paparazzi-coated red carpets. I was starting to think it would be me, not the celebs, having tears and tantrums – this was going to be hard work. You should know, by the way, that journalists aren’t invited to these events, we gatecrash.

Between you and me, journalists use all sorts of tricks to get into these parties – one girl I know carries a champagne glass everywhere, whips it out of her handbag and walks to the door pretending she had been outside smoking a cigarette.

Another lingers behind a tall, hunky man with an invite and manages to squeeze under the net. Me, I just make sure I look like I belong. That works in London though; surely Cannes would be more tricky?

As soon as I arrived, I started working. I knew Paris Hilton, Jude Law and George Clooney were around somewhere and I couldn’t wait to find them!

I began by walking down The Coisette, the strip by the sea lined with the top hotels and countless beach parties, which is always packed with celebrity spotters. It was like shopping on Oxford Street at Christmas. But I was unprepared for what was set to become the most awesome time of my life. I was there to report, but just kept wondering, Do some people in the world really live like this?

It was the first night, and there were two huge premieres in town. It took me two hours to apply my immaculate ‘look like a celebrity’ make-up and squeeze into my glitzy gown. The hottest tickets were the Vanity Fair party at the glamorous Hotel du Cap and the Soho House party at Château de la Napoule. I used my trusty London methods of sneaking into parties and it worked – rule Britannia! It wasn’t long before I was drinking with Leonardo DiCaprio, Jessica Simpson, Pamela Anderson and Gerard Butler and I managed to make small-talk with Jude Law.

My favourite night was the Soho House party; Prince William was on the guest list and everyone was talking about it. It was so exclusive the press were banned and there were no cameras allowed. I was nervous yet so excited about sneaking in. It was a bit different from my local nightclub, I’ve never seen anything like it in my life – it was held at Napoleon’s castle!

Organisers had imported £15,000 worth of furniture from the UK. It was hard to see who was there as the rich and famous congregated by the sea front by candlelight, but that didn’t stop me searching for Wills. Unfortunately, he cancelled at the last minute. Perhaps he wasn’t a fan of the menu. There was £16,000 of lobster eaten in four hours. I’d never eaten lobster (I was a huge fan of Sebastian in The Little Mermaid), but that was standard for Cannes: lobster washed down with champagne.

Even Jamie Theakston couldn’t believe how plush the party was. He told me, ‘I’m here for a holiday, and left my colleague Harriet to do the radio show by herself. She’ll kill me especially when she hears how much lobster there is!’

I couldn’t believe my eyes when US singer Jessica Simpson arrived with an entourage of 11 at a party hosted by Nike on the beach. She turned up with her friends and her mum and dad. I’d never go partying with mine, but Jessica was having a ball sipping the champagne and cocktails.

Five minutes later, Jude Law walked in with a much more manageable entourage of just three. He sat on a table next to Jessica’s. I resisted the urge to run up to him and tell him how much I loved him. But then I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I rushed over and Jude was more than happy to chat. He kissed me on the cheek (I haven’t washed it since!) and told me how much he loved being at Cannes. He said it was the best year ever. I pulled out my camera as Jude wrapped his arms around me for a picture.

I spent my days hanging out at posh London members club Century. I heard this was where all the celebrities had lunch. They were right. I sat down next to Gerard Butler, star of the hit movies P.S. I Love You and 300. He was unshaven but still looked gorgeous. He was on his way back to his yacht to freshen up, but he wasn’t partying like the other celebrities. ‘I’m off the booze,’ he told me. ‘I’m here to work this year; I’ve got to read this new movie script before my meeting with Jim Sheridan [director of Get Rich or Die Tryin’] later. But I’m going to read it on the beach so I can ogle all the girls!’

I thought, Go, Gerard!

Baywatch star Pamela Anderson was whisked past me at exclusive club VIP. It was an amazing place and security was tight. Two doormen stopped me in my tracks as I tried to sneak past. I smiled sweetly, and asked again. He let me in!

Pamela still looked amazing for her age, but I only recognised her because of her tattoos. She wasn’t keen to talk, she just wanted to dance, but I didn’t mind because so did I.

My luck couldn’t have got any better when I headed on to a yacht for the day to sunbathe and relax after chasing after the celebrities. If anything, it was an incredible opportunity to see how the rich and famous really live it up in Cannes. The richest actors stay in the yachts and they’re notorious for showing off to each other at the festival. The bigger your yacht, the more important you are.

I was expecting a rowing boat or something but, as we entered the harbour, I didn’t even think P. Diddy could afford to have one as big as this. It was £1.2 million. Even the fuel cost £300 an hour. Unsure of the etiquette, I asked him to drive slowly. I had a snoop around the yacht, and it even had bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms. The owner then treated me to lunch on a secluded resort, only reachable by speedboat. It was fascinating to hear all of his private tales of celebrity guests. I giggled to myself how I’d travelled on more vessels than Popeye.

I’m not sure whether it was the sun, champagne or the golden hot sand, but something brought the celebrities flocking to me with no pestering required. The rest of the trip was spent lounging on yachts, feasting on lobster and shopping in overpriced boutiques. All in the name of work of course. Mind you, I couldn’t wait to kick off those stilettos, soak my bunions and rip off my false eyelashes for good. Being a celebrity is too much like hard work to me.