Welcome to your bird’s eye view of the most expensive flat in the world, ever. Or, if you’re not au fait with the word ‘flat’, you may use ‘apartment’ at this point. Just don’t do it again.
It is the pentiest penthouse at One Hyde Park, the retardedly expensive development by the those wily Candy Brothers (one of ’em’s going out with Holly Valance, who no doubt can’t believe her luck seeing as we actually had to look up her name. We typed in, ‘shit Australian singer, Candy, boyfriend’ and originally it came up with Kylie, then it came up with Jimmy Barnes, but third time lucky, et voila, Holly Go-all-the-way-to-the-bank).
If the address is too obscure, One Hyde Park is *checks* No. 1 Hyde Park, London’s glittering London. The arrow is there for your enjoyment, and points to the flat of which we speak. The one that’s on the verge of being sold to someone with far too much money and little-to-no taste (ie. an Arab). But then Harrods is just round the corner, which is the Saudi Royal Family’s personal 7/11, and there really is nothing worse than craving a bag of Haribo, some fizzy pop and a sherbet Dip Dab when you’re sat in your jim-jams in front of Time Team, grief-stricken at the realisation that you not only have to get dressed (see, if they lived in Shoreditch, pyjamas are seen as fashion so no-one blinks an eyelid. More fool them…) and schlep half way across town, only to find… Actually, this is going nowhere. We just wanted to say the words ‘fizzy pop’.
But to be fair, it’s quite a nice spot. Before the Candy brothers bought the plot of land for £140million (one of the flat’s is costing what they paid for the entire plot. Told you they were wily) it was open space that allowed the likes of us to have a little mosey on down Harvey Nics (handily illustrated by a red number 2) then slip on through to Hyde Park (1 and 5 and environs. 1 if you like boating, 5 if you like bumming) to stroke the green green grass with the ease of a Ryvita Biscuit floating down the Thames, but now they’ve blocked it all off with a whatever-looking piece of homogenous glass ‘n’ timber piece of shit (so it’s designed by Rogers and co. Isn’t everything?) and unless we want to fork out the best part of a lifetime’s wages per square inch, we have to now trudge all the way up Knightsbridge (it’s uphill!) and then take a left. It’s just not cricket.
But for your money, you do get a tunnel (how modern!) to the Mandarin Oriental next door (3) where Heston Blumenthal off-of Fat Duck is opening a restaurant (pronouned res’tron) as well as a panic room in case Her Majesty tries to attack. As for No. 4, that is just a place we’ve oft passed, never entered, and it intrigues. Oh, and 7 points to where the fun people are. We’re still deciding where to put 6.
And this is what your £140million flat looks on the inside. Just in case you’re wavering.
Would you pay £140million to live here?,