Flush with our recent successes of renting an apartment and buying a car, we rewarded ourselves by spending Christmas Eve on Cottesloe Beach. Our waterside relaxation didn’t last too long though, for little did I remember that the GMTV crew would be at the other end of the beach broadcasting live video messages from sunburnt Brits back home to Blighty for friends and family to see. The crowd was large and the competition was stiff. Armed with our story of having travelled seventeen months to get here, I made straight for the production manager to try to tip the balance of luck in our favour. After making my case, she promised nothing but hinted that if we were to stand somewhere near the bottom of the steps at such-and-such a time, we’d be in with a good chance. “Nine-month pregnant expectant mother over here!”, came the half-excited shriek of her assistant. Drat… better luck next time.

As it happened, Claire and I found ourselves in lucky footings as the crew parted the crowd to form a tunnel for the camera to walk through. We were on either side and so surely one of us would get our mugs on TV. As the photos in the gallery below show, I got a long-range bobbing-head-in-the-crowd shot, whilst Squiffy fought off women and children to almost fill the screen as the presenter was interviewing the I’m-mates-with-the-production-company stooge who was planted to her left moments before the camera began its walk.

For the first time in my life, I figured out why anyone would actually want to be a celebrity. They wouldn’t have to stand under the burning sun for an hour with all the other plebs just to send a Christmas message to their Mums. The things we do for showbusiness…

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