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Any flat can look great in a Bond movie, writes Daisy Waugh for The Sunday Times. The reality, like Hugh Grant’s nostrils, can be disappointing

At a party many moons ago, when I was young and goofy and easily dazzled, somebody introduced me to that floppy-haired Adonis, that star of screen and boudoir, that God of All Delightful Englishmen, Hugh Grant. Not an especially magnificent swank, admittedly, given how many people he has been introduced to over his endless party-going years.

Yet this gargantuan event in my history, if not in his, coincided with a period when I had a gargantuan crush on him. Which is embarrassing. So, there we were, standing right opposite one another: Hugh, me (who adored him) and somebody we’ll call “the facilitator”.

The facilitator, way off camera, said something debonair along the lines of: “Daisy, do you know Hugh ? Hugh, this is Daisy . . .”

“Hello,” I said, remarkably calmly, which was brilliant for lots of reasons, but especially because, at that point, the only thing I wanted to say was: your nose looks a bit funny and how come the cameras never pick that up?

Sadly, he wasn’t so handsome in the flesh. There was something, I felt, not quite right about the angle at which his upper lip connected with the base of his nostrils. I avoided any mention of it of course, and launched instead – God only knows why – into a semi-hysterical dissertation on tennis balls.

The star of screen and boudoir responded with admirable politeness to my torrent of observations on the advantages of the unpressurised variety. When I sensed his concentration lapsing, I quickly, and with rising frenzy, presented him with the counter-argument: “On the other hand,” said I, “some of Tretorn’s unpressurised – I don’t know if you’re familiar with Tretorn tennis balls? – tend to kick up very high. Rather too high, some have even suggested . . . ” By then, his eyes had glazed over completely.

I retreated, shaking with shame at my own ineptitude and reeling with disappointment at his peculiar nostrils. Somehow, the combination of the two stripped away every remaining shimmer of glamour about him. At that instant, my love for him died.

What’s the moral? Not talking too much about tennis balls when trying to beguile movie stars at parties, obviously – although that’s hardly useful. But bear with me.

As anyone who has ever visited a film set will tell you (I have a husband who works in the film industry, so, since the dreaded Hugh encounter, it happens I’ve been to a few), they tend to be astonishingly depressing places, thick with the stink of everyone’s boredom. Hours pass, and the crew, in their regulation dirty jeans and cutting-edge trainers, do nothing – or so it seems – but stand about waiting for things to be adjusted.

Yet from all that humdrum inertia, the bods in their dirty jeans conjure magic. And, along the way, minor miracles occur – an ex-Latymer schoolboy, for example, not especially tall or anything much to look at, is transformed from a politish bloke with slightly peculiar nostrils into a living sex god. So, I have found the moral at last. Remember the nostrils and never despair. Things often look better on screen.

Take the Water Gardens, a 1960s housing development in west London that consists of four tower blocks. Bond fans might recognise it from an early scene in Quantum of Solace, in which Daniel Craig draws up outside a, er, 1960s housing development. I’m not sure why, or in what country he’s supposed to be, or what the hell is going on in the story, but anyway . . . Daniel goes into the building and enters a very nice flat – light and modern, elegant and highly desirable – where Judi Dench is doing something . . . I didn’t quite understand what, but whatever it is lends itself to a little wander on the balcony.

Freeze-frame that moment and you should, I’m pretty certain, actually see the fourth-floor flat that I visited. It’s in the neighbouring tower block – and how international and ritzy it looks.

“You could have watched the whole scene being filmed from this bedroom window,” the agent said as we gazed out from a flat as dowdy as a flat can be: tiny (just over 500 sq ft), with one bedroom, a windowless bathroom and a 9ft by 6ft kitchen – too small for a table.

The flat appears not to have been touched since the day it was first occupied, with swirly 1960s carpets, nylon net curtains, wood-look melamine kitchen surfaces and turquoise bathroom suite all still in place. There is a disconcerting red smear on the wall above the kitchen surfaces, which makes one wonder whether – never mind Bond, James Bond – it hasn’t been the scene of a real-life murder. Hope not. One way or another, the place is in dire need of a lick of paint.

On a more positive note, the sitting room is light and, at 20ft by 11ft, relatively large. And the flat is incredibly convenient. In the heart of Paddington, it’s a five-minute walk from Kensington Gardens and barely three minutes from the station. Add a 24-hour porter and a faint but genuine connection with, er, Daniel’n’Judi, and at £345,000, it seems almost a bargain.

Potential buyers who have seen it only in Quantum of Solace should remember that, like everything in life, it looks a whole lot better in the movies.

355 The Water Gardens, W2, £345,000

What is it?A small one-bedroom flat in a 1960s tower block, on a 77-year lease Where is it?In Paddington, west London, near the station Who is selling it?Cluttons; 020 7262 2226, www.cluttons.com

Not tempted? Here’s what £345,000 buys elsewhere

Cheshire
This two-bedroom flat in Wilmslow is 10 miles from Manchester city centre. It has two reception rooms, one bathroom, a cellar and a lawned garden. Andrew J Nowell & Co; 01625 585905, www.andrewjnowell.co.uk

Hampshire

Forge House is a Grade II-listed 18th-century farmhouse with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a patio garden and a garage. It is on Hayling Island, six miles from Portsmouth. Cubitt & West; 01243 377888, www.cubittandwest.co.uk

Northamptonshire

A four-bedroom, three-bathroom townhouse in Black Horse Court, a new development in Oundle, 10 miles from Peterborough. It has one reception room and a small garden. Woodford & Co; 01832 274732, www.woodfordandco.com