Stephen Fry: Gadget Man (2012) s03e08 Episode Script
Property
1 Hi.
Human civility demands that I inform you that the man already overstaying his welcome is Richard Ayoade.
I am that man, and he's here to talk gadget.
Possessed with a Homeric level of physical laziness, I seek to sate the problems of existence by quaffing deep from the goblet of gadgets.
That is not a healthy sound.
Tonight, property.
Ah, come on.
Now, that I love.
Whether you're improving, moving THEY SHRIEK Oh, hello.
or not moving, for every scenario, gadgets abound.
This hatch pleases me.
This is amazing.
I hear the sweet comely call of gadget.
Let's answer it.
I've enjoyed my time in the gadget house, but it was only ever a stopgap.
I've outgrown its cramped confines, and it's time to move on to something more capacious.
Before I can even think about buying a new place, I'll need to sell my current gaff, and, when it comes to off-loading real estate, first impressions are crucial.
Which is why I've packed my entrance hall with an array of gob-befuddling gadgetry to dazzle would-be buyers, and draw their attention away from the damp patch in the master bedroom.
As well as wearing inexplicably pointy shoes, estate agents always tell us that we need to sell a home and not a house, and, ironically, nothing says home like a house plant, but, and here's the tension, I have a long-standing antipathy towards vegetation, which often leads to a plant's untimely demise.
Mercifully, I now have the Parrot Flower Power.
It's a sensor that tracks light intensity, air temperature, fertiliser level and soil moisture, and sends push notifications to my sweet smartphone vis-a-vis upkeep.
I've never been so happy.
I was in a hurry when I picked up this pad, and overlooked the fact that it has more than one window.
My cleaning bill soon spiralled out of control, so, of late, I have neglected their upkeep.
I need to get them back to showroom standard and sharpish, that's why I'm engaging an army of Ecovacs to take care of business.
Suction holds the Ecovacs Winbots in place, while the caterpillar tracks manoeuvre them around your glass.
The Winbots sense the sides of your panes and plan a route accordingly, attacking the surface with a three-step cleaning, squeegee-ing and wiping process.
I am literally frozen with excitement.
It is vital that my house be tidy before I open the doors to interested parties.
This could have been a litany of self-acrimony, but, mercy of mercies, I have a boss new shelving unit.
It has these piano keys .
.
which allow it to be used as coat hooks, or even a bike rack for Betsy's sake.
Now, there may be other storage solutions, but who on this green Earth has the time to consumer test them? Why, my public panel, of course.
Chosen for their abject ordinariness, they have been tasked with assessing the latest in clutter-busting technology.
Today, we are going to test space-saving gadgets which I've secreted in this futuristic dystopian world for you to test within an inch of their lives.
Are you prepared to do this? Yes.
Please, do so, report back with your verdicts and enjoy the snacks.
I will see you later.
First, a versatile centrepiece that adjusts to changing storage and coffee table needs allows my panel to share snacks humanely.
Oh, that's very clever.
The EZ Bed takes blow-up beds to the next level.
God, that's quite loud.
Not only does it have a built in pump, it has legs, ensuring a user-friendly height.
Once unzipped, it will inflate or deflate itself in just two mins.
That's quite, quite firm, yeah.
Yeah, definitely.
I think it's comfortable.
Without wishing to lazily accede to stereotypes, I've chosen the city worker and student to not only examine the bed, but also a drinks cabinet.
The feckless pair.
My concern is that you need space in order to open it, otherwise you would have to move it from the space it was currently in to a larger space, and then you're expending energy, and you might be too exhausted to drink at the end.
Plus the calories you're burning so you drink more.
Sure, yes.
And, for all Britain's retired people and skilled manual workers, another bed with space-saving properties.
OK, here we go.
It is the world's thinnest TV bed, as in the foot of the bed is a mere 140mm.
Scared of kicking it when you get into more moveable action, i'nt it.
So you're concern is, in a moment of fatigue or rage Passion.
Passion.
.
.
or passion, that you would lose your grip or footing and your extended foot would crash through the flatscreen TV? Yes, indeed.
Well, that is a legitimate concern.
Superb gadgets without doubt, but which is most superb? You have come to a conclusion.
What is your favourite gadget? We have decided on the E-Zed or EZ Bed as the gadget of the week.
Well, a triumph for the E-Zed Bed there.
I couldn't be more pleased for it.
These space-saving gadgets have inspired me, perhaps I don't need to move after all.
Just make better use of the space I have, Chez Gadget Towers, as I'm about to say don't move, improve.
I'm on my way to meet award-winning interior designer Naomi Cleaver, who's, more or less, agreed to show me the latest hi tech solutions to the problem of space.
Naomi, a tank of thank for coming.
I'm sure you've heard this question a trillion times, how can I make maximum use of my residential square footage? I think I have just the answer, Richard.
I was hoping you would say that.
Follow me.
For the upwardly mobile gadget lover in need of more space, but with a long-held distrust of builders, planning permission and the all-round rigmarole, there's a one-word solution - a pod.
First, the Tetra Shed, an extendable geometric design intended for use as a home office or ticket office, or, perhaps most alarmingly, a beach hut.
I presume this is a stacking tetrahedron? How did you know? Yes, it is.
Just a wild guess.
It is a stacking tetrahedron, and it stacks vertically, but it also, sort of, stacks laterally as well.
Sure.
I'll tell what I do really like, actually, is sitting here with this view out.
You know, you get a sense of being in a hide, which I really like.
I think it's augmented by the pulchritude of what we're looking at.
If you're Peckham-based, you may be looking at a wall.
I like the flaps that, presumably, you can close? If you're in Peckham, very safe, just close the flaps.
Yes, panic room lockdown.
Naomi's next choice is the rotating pod.
So, why don't you step in? I shall enter the pod, right.
Are you ready? And the people who named it were no enemies of literalism.
Laminated spruce spurs hold UV-filtering polycarbonate windows in place, while roller bearings under the floor ensure easy rotation.
Oh, hello.
As thrilling as that was, what is the difference between that and this? Richard Yes, Naomi.
If you had all your mates here, you wouldn't want to be moving around constantly, would you? This is too much space for all of my mates.
I don't believe that for a second.
It's a classic 18th century design anyway.
It's a contemporary interpretation of that sunseeking thing.
Yes.
Well, you know, this is How much am I paying for this? Just over Ð8,000.
Just over Ð8,000.
A snip.
OK, I'm going to leave now.
Are you? OK.
Next, Snoozy by AirClad.
The wood and aluminium end walls are completed by a double-skinned inflatable centre section, to make a pod that's light, strong and, above all, portable.
It's the one of these four pods that folds up into the smallest little package.
Right.
So you could practically put it in your suitcase.
Very popular at festivals.
I was about to say, this had V Festival written all over it, or O2 Wireless.
It depends.
Each one's got its own vibe.
I defer to you, Richard, in the festival department.
Of course, I'm unbearably hip.
May I look inside? You may.
Well, this is dynamite.
I like the bed.
It's you, isn't it? Solid foam.
Yeah.
I like the browned Astroturf.
Yeah.
Which makes it look that something artificial can still die.
Finally, the Archipod, aimed squarely at those looking for a high-end pod for the home, usually for use as an office.
This hatch pleases me.
You like that, don't you? I do like this.
It's nice.
It's very nice.
It's solid, but has a smoothness to it.
Like a ball.
Inside is a fully plastered, wired, heated, insulated room all ready to go.
What do you think? First impressions? I like it.
I like the slightly nautical-feeling lights.
I think it feels quite nautical, doesn't it? And it looks really lovely from the outside.
All round, yeah, I really like this one, I think you should have it, Richard, I think it's you.
Well, you say, "Have it.
" I don't think they're giving this away.
I imagine they're going to want the green, and the green is? You're asking me how much, aren't you? Tell me, please.
Have a guess.
Ten k.
Mmm, 50% more.
Yowzers.
Over 15 years, that's only a grand a year.
It's not bad.
Sure.
Over a billion years, it's negligible.
Exactly.
Well, these pods have blown the lid off my nuts, but they don't quite solve my problem.
You see, in order to reach one, I'd have to leave my house, making it less like an extension and more like a separate, tiny house.
No, this cat's got to move, but whither? OK.
Hi.
Yeah, it's me, Richard.
Do you mind if I don't continue pretending that there's someone on the other end of the line, because I just need to rattle through the exposition? OK, great.
Well, I need to move house, but I don't know where to.
I like the serenity of the countryside, but I don't like how quiet it is.
I like the cosmopolitan buzz of the big city, but I don't like the noise.
In short, I need a house that is not in one fixed location.
Do not fail me.
Bye-bye.
Coming up, Claudia Winkleman gets a sneak peek at how the other lot live.
This is amazing.
And my new house takes shape.
This is what went down before the break.
I wanted to move house, and in a bid to make Gadget Towers more saleable, I've spent an already classic segment of television grappling with technology that de-clutters, improves first impressions and adds additional space.
This hatch pleases me.
But, as the curtain rises on our second act, I still don't know where I want to live.
In short, I have none of the three Ls that all end with -ocation.
So I've asked my technical support staff to design me a home that will work regardless.
While they begin work on the exterior, I'm turning my attention to the interior.
I'm on my way to see a house where the gadgets are integrated into the very fabric of the building, thus foiling my initial plan of theft, but, perhaps, I can steal some ideas.
Showing me around will be top-end estate agent Rupert des Forges.
He looks harmless, but whenever I view houses, I like to have reinforcements with me in case shizzle gets real.
There, parking completed.
So I've asked Claudia Winkleman to man up and rock down.
She's lived in houses all her life, except once when she accidentally entered a tent.
Hello, Claudia.
Hello.
How are you? Very well.
How are you? I'm all right, you know, up and down.
You ring the bell.
OK.
BUZZER BEEPS TABLET RINGS I'll handle the chat.
Hello.
'Hello, we're here to see Rupert, please.
' Certainly, Richard.
Come on in.
Thanks.
See, didn't say who you were.
This house is so ruddy hi tech, Rupert doesn't even have to get up to answer the door, he just uses his tablet to buzz us in.
I have a thirst, Rupert, and the only thing that can quench it is gadgetry.
You know that.
I do.
We're in your crib, or the crib that you police, tell us what in heck you have in store for us.
A lot of technology today is quite concealed, and we might as well start with the TV.
OK.
Ooh.
Get out of town, Rupert.
I didn't even see that coming.
Stop it.
Yeah, concealed into the cabinetwork.
A custom interface on the tablet commands a central control system that controls almost every aspect of the house.
Automated blinds.
Right.
Touch the button.
Oh, come on.
Now, that, I love.
Nice and silent.
Rupert, I'm going to cuddle you.
Yeah, it's pretty good.
You know what? I've had it with noisy blinds, and this, I can't even hear it.
I have one of those cutcha-cutcha-cutcha-cutcha-cutcha.
So, we've got a bit of lighting control as well.
OK, nice.
Yeah.
The control system has an astronomic clock which coordinates the LED lights to match sunrise and sunset times.
It's gone rainbow.
Did you do that? Yes.
It can also respond to the colours on the TV screen or be programmed to match your mood.
So I can do without the green.
Yeah.
That's more like a Hulk zone for when I get angered that the blinds are too silent.
What else has this joint got? So, it's got very high levels of security, so the whole home is set up with closed circuit TV cameras, so you can view your home remotely from your phone.
No! Can you, then, do weird stuff remotely, like if I was in Shanghai having lunch, turn the lights on in my own house? You could operate your lights, yes.
I thought you were talking about taser-ing or something like that.
No, just you can switch on the lights.
You could be on a different continent to your guests and still make them a decaf mocha.
The Scanomat TopBrewer can be remotely prompted to grind and freshly brew coffee, and it contains the world's smallest milk foamer.
Wait.
Just to confirm, could I do this in my bedroom and then come downstairs and it will be waiting for me? It'll be ready for you.
Rupert.
Exactly.
Halves your effort.
It was becoming clear to Claudia and I that this room represented nothing less than a pretty good room.
I mean, this is how Pharell lives.
Of course, it is.
Just with an iPad in his lap, tunes on, controlling lights.
Wearing pants.
Thank you, Rupert.
Richard and Claudia, so, this is the games room.
If you want to step up onto the floor.
Are you going to teleport us? SHE SCREAMS Should have warned you, Claudia.
Oh, my gosh! Did you notice how rock solid my centre of balance was? Are you James Bond, Rupert? Look at this.
Richard, you've got a screen here that's set up for both TV, DVD and also games console.
We've just got the Xbox coming up.
You have a DVD? Yeah.
Good grief, OK, I'm going to sit down, just to take that in.
Revolving dance floor.
In your new house, you could come in and just revolve it and dance.
Yes.
I can go, "Look, I'm playing some early Bresson.
"I'm also pumping in some Santana.
Let's let her rip.
" Exactly.
OK, Richard, Claudia, do you want to come through to the piano bar? I would.
Claudia, are you a pianist? I'm not.
You not? Richard? What do you think these are? Sausages? No, I'm not.
There we go, so you can compose your own pieces.
Right.
Don't be silly.
I thought you said you didn't play? Well.
Beautiful.
This FlatFrog tablet is capable of responding to over 40 separate touches simultaneously.
What else have we got? We've got a Tube map on here.
Good, because, if you lived in a house like this, I imagine you'd be on the Tube an awful lot.
At first sight, the next room seemed gadget-free, until Rupert touched the tablet.
Ooh.
OK.
Oh, come on, that's lovely.
Right.
That's a projector.
What's going on here? Is it going to be a cinema? It is going to be a cinema, Richard.
This room represents a two-and-a-half-year collaboration between home electronics experts, architects, interior designers and automation specialists, whoever they are.
CLAUDIA SQUEALS This is amazing.
21 pressure sensors and 28 motors move bespoke furniture and cinema quality tech.
Are there more seats back there? Yes, you get your second row.
Stop it.
A set of fully reclinable cinema seats.
Yes.
Cup holder.
That's what I need.
Yeah.
The projector itself is cinema quality.
It's unique in this country, so the resolution is second to none on the screen.
Good.
I need that for Peppa Pig, because when it's compressed, you lose the poetry.
It's not the same.
Now, I'd also like to talk, in vulgar terms, turkey.
How much am I transferring securely to you via my Swiss bank account? Richard, if you want this house Which I do.
.
.
in its entirety, with all the furnishings and all the tech, and there's a lot of tech.
OK.
?20 million.
Pardon me? ?20 million.
Pardon me? It's all there.
Say it once more.
?20 million.
That's too much, Rupert, for me.
That is .
.
almost 20 million north of my budget.
Claudia, thank you.
Thank you.
I'll leave you to continue the negotiations direct with Rupert and, perhaps, you can invite me round for Jaffa Cakes.
Good to see you, Richard.
OK.
Bye, Richard.
Bye.
Bye-bye.
I was seduced by the hi-tech house, but there were problems.
Not only was it a pinch beyond my means, it offered no flexibility on location.
Fortunately, my technical support staff have pulled a real estate rabbit out of their trousers.
I've just athletically jumped out of my new home.
It's compact and, in many ways, like a souped-up shed.
My new pied-a-terre is almost made of dreams.
Containing a spacious mezzanine bedroom, a fully functioning bathroom, open-plan living space and a kitchen/diner.
So far, so what? But let me just take it up a notch.
Hit it.
And, indeed, your eyes tell you no lies, for this revolutionary house is portable, allowing me to roam free, like the wind, unfettered, unchecked, subject to parking and congestion charge, which the wind doesn't have to pay.
And, sure, the house is a gnat smaller than I'd first intended, but then there's always a trade-off when it comes to location.
And, for the being of time that is now, I've decided to settle in the heart of the city.
In this sought-after area, I now enjoy a fully detached house with its own garden for a fraction of the price of neighbouring properties.
I feel embarrassed to conclude that I must give myself a series of accolades for yet another dizzying achievement.
Not only have I proved that gadgets can help you buy and sell property, I've also created a property that is a gadget.
One that allows you to move where'er you wish.
A world-beating innovation that is, in no way, pretty similar to a caravan or mobile home.
Bye.
Human civility demands that I inform you that the man already overstaying his welcome is Richard Ayoade.
I am that man, and he's here to talk gadget.
Possessed with a Homeric level of physical laziness, I seek to sate the problems of existence by quaffing deep from the goblet of gadgets.
That is not a healthy sound.
Tonight, property.
Ah, come on.
Now, that I love.
Whether you're improving, moving THEY SHRIEK Oh, hello.
or not moving, for every scenario, gadgets abound.
This hatch pleases me.
This is amazing.
I hear the sweet comely call of gadget.
Let's answer it.
I've enjoyed my time in the gadget house, but it was only ever a stopgap.
I've outgrown its cramped confines, and it's time to move on to something more capacious.
Before I can even think about buying a new place, I'll need to sell my current gaff, and, when it comes to off-loading real estate, first impressions are crucial.
Which is why I've packed my entrance hall with an array of gob-befuddling gadgetry to dazzle would-be buyers, and draw their attention away from the damp patch in the master bedroom.
As well as wearing inexplicably pointy shoes, estate agents always tell us that we need to sell a home and not a house, and, ironically, nothing says home like a house plant, but, and here's the tension, I have a long-standing antipathy towards vegetation, which often leads to a plant's untimely demise.
Mercifully, I now have the Parrot Flower Power.
It's a sensor that tracks light intensity, air temperature, fertiliser level and soil moisture, and sends push notifications to my sweet smartphone vis-a-vis upkeep.
I've never been so happy.
I was in a hurry when I picked up this pad, and overlooked the fact that it has more than one window.
My cleaning bill soon spiralled out of control, so, of late, I have neglected their upkeep.
I need to get them back to showroom standard and sharpish, that's why I'm engaging an army of Ecovacs to take care of business.
Suction holds the Ecovacs Winbots in place, while the caterpillar tracks manoeuvre them around your glass.
The Winbots sense the sides of your panes and plan a route accordingly, attacking the surface with a three-step cleaning, squeegee-ing and wiping process.
I am literally frozen with excitement.
It is vital that my house be tidy before I open the doors to interested parties.
This could have been a litany of self-acrimony, but, mercy of mercies, I have a boss new shelving unit.
It has these piano keys .
.
which allow it to be used as coat hooks, or even a bike rack for Betsy's sake.
Now, there may be other storage solutions, but who on this green Earth has the time to consumer test them? Why, my public panel, of course.
Chosen for their abject ordinariness, they have been tasked with assessing the latest in clutter-busting technology.
Today, we are going to test space-saving gadgets which I've secreted in this futuristic dystopian world for you to test within an inch of their lives.
Are you prepared to do this? Yes.
Please, do so, report back with your verdicts and enjoy the snacks.
I will see you later.
First, a versatile centrepiece that adjusts to changing storage and coffee table needs allows my panel to share snacks humanely.
Oh, that's very clever.
The EZ Bed takes blow-up beds to the next level.
God, that's quite loud.
Not only does it have a built in pump, it has legs, ensuring a user-friendly height.
Once unzipped, it will inflate or deflate itself in just two mins.
That's quite, quite firm, yeah.
Yeah, definitely.
I think it's comfortable.
Without wishing to lazily accede to stereotypes, I've chosen the city worker and student to not only examine the bed, but also a drinks cabinet.
The feckless pair.
My concern is that you need space in order to open it, otherwise you would have to move it from the space it was currently in to a larger space, and then you're expending energy, and you might be too exhausted to drink at the end.
Plus the calories you're burning so you drink more.
Sure, yes.
And, for all Britain's retired people and skilled manual workers, another bed with space-saving properties.
OK, here we go.
It is the world's thinnest TV bed, as in the foot of the bed is a mere 140mm.
Scared of kicking it when you get into more moveable action, i'nt it.
So you're concern is, in a moment of fatigue or rage Passion.
Passion.
.
.
or passion, that you would lose your grip or footing and your extended foot would crash through the flatscreen TV? Yes, indeed.
Well, that is a legitimate concern.
Superb gadgets without doubt, but which is most superb? You have come to a conclusion.
What is your favourite gadget? We have decided on the E-Zed or EZ Bed as the gadget of the week.
Well, a triumph for the E-Zed Bed there.
I couldn't be more pleased for it.
These space-saving gadgets have inspired me, perhaps I don't need to move after all.
Just make better use of the space I have, Chez Gadget Towers, as I'm about to say don't move, improve.
I'm on my way to meet award-winning interior designer Naomi Cleaver, who's, more or less, agreed to show me the latest hi tech solutions to the problem of space.
Naomi, a tank of thank for coming.
I'm sure you've heard this question a trillion times, how can I make maximum use of my residential square footage? I think I have just the answer, Richard.
I was hoping you would say that.
Follow me.
For the upwardly mobile gadget lover in need of more space, but with a long-held distrust of builders, planning permission and the all-round rigmarole, there's a one-word solution - a pod.
First, the Tetra Shed, an extendable geometric design intended for use as a home office or ticket office, or, perhaps most alarmingly, a beach hut.
I presume this is a stacking tetrahedron? How did you know? Yes, it is.
Just a wild guess.
It is a stacking tetrahedron, and it stacks vertically, but it also, sort of, stacks laterally as well.
Sure.
I'll tell what I do really like, actually, is sitting here with this view out.
You know, you get a sense of being in a hide, which I really like.
I think it's augmented by the pulchritude of what we're looking at.
If you're Peckham-based, you may be looking at a wall.
I like the flaps that, presumably, you can close? If you're in Peckham, very safe, just close the flaps.
Yes, panic room lockdown.
Naomi's next choice is the rotating pod.
So, why don't you step in? I shall enter the pod, right.
Are you ready? And the people who named it were no enemies of literalism.
Laminated spruce spurs hold UV-filtering polycarbonate windows in place, while roller bearings under the floor ensure easy rotation.
Oh, hello.
As thrilling as that was, what is the difference between that and this? Richard Yes, Naomi.
If you had all your mates here, you wouldn't want to be moving around constantly, would you? This is too much space for all of my mates.
I don't believe that for a second.
It's a classic 18th century design anyway.
It's a contemporary interpretation of that sunseeking thing.
Yes.
Well, you know, this is How much am I paying for this? Just over Ð8,000.
Just over Ð8,000.
A snip.
OK, I'm going to leave now.
Are you? OK.
Next, Snoozy by AirClad.
The wood and aluminium end walls are completed by a double-skinned inflatable centre section, to make a pod that's light, strong and, above all, portable.
It's the one of these four pods that folds up into the smallest little package.
Right.
So you could practically put it in your suitcase.
Very popular at festivals.
I was about to say, this had V Festival written all over it, or O2 Wireless.
It depends.
Each one's got its own vibe.
I defer to you, Richard, in the festival department.
Of course, I'm unbearably hip.
May I look inside? You may.
Well, this is dynamite.
I like the bed.
It's you, isn't it? Solid foam.
Yeah.
I like the browned Astroturf.
Yeah.
Which makes it look that something artificial can still die.
Finally, the Archipod, aimed squarely at those looking for a high-end pod for the home, usually for use as an office.
This hatch pleases me.
You like that, don't you? I do like this.
It's nice.
It's very nice.
It's solid, but has a smoothness to it.
Like a ball.
Inside is a fully plastered, wired, heated, insulated room all ready to go.
What do you think? First impressions? I like it.
I like the slightly nautical-feeling lights.
I think it feels quite nautical, doesn't it? And it looks really lovely from the outside.
All round, yeah, I really like this one, I think you should have it, Richard, I think it's you.
Well, you say, "Have it.
" I don't think they're giving this away.
I imagine they're going to want the green, and the green is? You're asking me how much, aren't you? Tell me, please.
Have a guess.
Ten k.
Mmm, 50% more.
Yowzers.
Over 15 years, that's only a grand a year.
It's not bad.
Sure.
Over a billion years, it's negligible.
Exactly.
Well, these pods have blown the lid off my nuts, but they don't quite solve my problem.
You see, in order to reach one, I'd have to leave my house, making it less like an extension and more like a separate, tiny house.
No, this cat's got to move, but whither? OK.
Hi.
Yeah, it's me, Richard.
Do you mind if I don't continue pretending that there's someone on the other end of the line, because I just need to rattle through the exposition? OK, great.
Well, I need to move house, but I don't know where to.
I like the serenity of the countryside, but I don't like how quiet it is.
I like the cosmopolitan buzz of the big city, but I don't like the noise.
In short, I need a house that is not in one fixed location.
Do not fail me.
Bye-bye.
Coming up, Claudia Winkleman gets a sneak peek at how the other lot live.
This is amazing.
And my new house takes shape.
This is what went down before the break.
I wanted to move house, and in a bid to make Gadget Towers more saleable, I've spent an already classic segment of television grappling with technology that de-clutters, improves first impressions and adds additional space.
This hatch pleases me.
But, as the curtain rises on our second act, I still don't know where I want to live.
In short, I have none of the three Ls that all end with -ocation.
So I've asked my technical support staff to design me a home that will work regardless.
While they begin work on the exterior, I'm turning my attention to the interior.
I'm on my way to see a house where the gadgets are integrated into the very fabric of the building, thus foiling my initial plan of theft, but, perhaps, I can steal some ideas.
Showing me around will be top-end estate agent Rupert des Forges.
He looks harmless, but whenever I view houses, I like to have reinforcements with me in case shizzle gets real.
There, parking completed.
So I've asked Claudia Winkleman to man up and rock down.
She's lived in houses all her life, except once when she accidentally entered a tent.
Hello, Claudia.
Hello.
How are you? Very well.
How are you? I'm all right, you know, up and down.
You ring the bell.
OK.
BUZZER BEEPS TABLET RINGS I'll handle the chat.
Hello.
'Hello, we're here to see Rupert, please.
' Certainly, Richard.
Come on in.
Thanks.
See, didn't say who you were.
This house is so ruddy hi tech, Rupert doesn't even have to get up to answer the door, he just uses his tablet to buzz us in.
I have a thirst, Rupert, and the only thing that can quench it is gadgetry.
You know that.
I do.
We're in your crib, or the crib that you police, tell us what in heck you have in store for us.
A lot of technology today is quite concealed, and we might as well start with the TV.
OK.
Ooh.
Get out of town, Rupert.
I didn't even see that coming.
Stop it.
Yeah, concealed into the cabinetwork.
A custom interface on the tablet commands a central control system that controls almost every aspect of the house.
Automated blinds.
Right.
Touch the button.
Oh, come on.
Now, that, I love.
Nice and silent.
Rupert, I'm going to cuddle you.
Yeah, it's pretty good.
You know what? I've had it with noisy blinds, and this, I can't even hear it.
I have one of those cutcha-cutcha-cutcha-cutcha-cutcha.
So, we've got a bit of lighting control as well.
OK, nice.
Yeah.
The control system has an astronomic clock which coordinates the LED lights to match sunrise and sunset times.
It's gone rainbow.
Did you do that? Yes.
It can also respond to the colours on the TV screen or be programmed to match your mood.
So I can do without the green.
Yeah.
That's more like a Hulk zone for when I get angered that the blinds are too silent.
What else has this joint got? So, it's got very high levels of security, so the whole home is set up with closed circuit TV cameras, so you can view your home remotely from your phone.
No! Can you, then, do weird stuff remotely, like if I was in Shanghai having lunch, turn the lights on in my own house? You could operate your lights, yes.
I thought you were talking about taser-ing or something like that.
No, just you can switch on the lights.
You could be on a different continent to your guests and still make them a decaf mocha.
The Scanomat TopBrewer can be remotely prompted to grind and freshly brew coffee, and it contains the world's smallest milk foamer.
Wait.
Just to confirm, could I do this in my bedroom and then come downstairs and it will be waiting for me? It'll be ready for you.
Rupert.
Exactly.
Halves your effort.
It was becoming clear to Claudia and I that this room represented nothing less than a pretty good room.
I mean, this is how Pharell lives.
Of course, it is.
Just with an iPad in his lap, tunes on, controlling lights.
Wearing pants.
Thank you, Rupert.
Richard and Claudia, so, this is the games room.
If you want to step up onto the floor.
Are you going to teleport us? SHE SCREAMS Should have warned you, Claudia.
Oh, my gosh! Did you notice how rock solid my centre of balance was? Are you James Bond, Rupert? Look at this.
Richard, you've got a screen here that's set up for both TV, DVD and also games console.
We've just got the Xbox coming up.
You have a DVD? Yeah.
Good grief, OK, I'm going to sit down, just to take that in.
Revolving dance floor.
In your new house, you could come in and just revolve it and dance.
Yes.
I can go, "Look, I'm playing some early Bresson.
"I'm also pumping in some Santana.
Let's let her rip.
" Exactly.
OK, Richard, Claudia, do you want to come through to the piano bar? I would.
Claudia, are you a pianist? I'm not.
You not? Richard? What do you think these are? Sausages? No, I'm not.
There we go, so you can compose your own pieces.
Right.
Don't be silly.
I thought you said you didn't play? Well.
Beautiful.
This FlatFrog tablet is capable of responding to over 40 separate touches simultaneously.
What else have we got? We've got a Tube map on here.
Good, because, if you lived in a house like this, I imagine you'd be on the Tube an awful lot.
At first sight, the next room seemed gadget-free, until Rupert touched the tablet.
Ooh.
OK.
Oh, come on, that's lovely.
Right.
That's a projector.
What's going on here? Is it going to be a cinema? It is going to be a cinema, Richard.
This room represents a two-and-a-half-year collaboration between home electronics experts, architects, interior designers and automation specialists, whoever they are.
CLAUDIA SQUEALS This is amazing.
21 pressure sensors and 28 motors move bespoke furniture and cinema quality tech.
Are there more seats back there? Yes, you get your second row.
Stop it.
A set of fully reclinable cinema seats.
Yes.
Cup holder.
That's what I need.
Yeah.
The projector itself is cinema quality.
It's unique in this country, so the resolution is second to none on the screen.
Good.
I need that for Peppa Pig, because when it's compressed, you lose the poetry.
It's not the same.
Now, I'd also like to talk, in vulgar terms, turkey.
How much am I transferring securely to you via my Swiss bank account? Richard, if you want this house Which I do.
.
.
in its entirety, with all the furnishings and all the tech, and there's a lot of tech.
OK.
?20 million.
Pardon me? ?20 million.
Pardon me? It's all there.
Say it once more.
?20 million.
That's too much, Rupert, for me.
That is .
.
almost 20 million north of my budget.
Claudia, thank you.
Thank you.
I'll leave you to continue the negotiations direct with Rupert and, perhaps, you can invite me round for Jaffa Cakes.
Good to see you, Richard.
OK.
Bye, Richard.
Bye.
Bye-bye.
I was seduced by the hi-tech house, but there were problems.
Not only was it a pinch beyond my means, it offered no flexibility on location.
Fortunately, my technical support staff have pulled a real estate rabbit out of their trousers.
I've just athletically jumped out of my new home.
It's compact and, in many ways, like a souped-up shed.
My new pied-a-terre is almost made of dreams.
Containing a spacious mezzanine bedroom, a fully functioning bathroom, open-plan living space and a kitchen/diner.
So far, so what? But let me just take it up a notch.
Hit it.
And, indeed, your eyes tell you no lies, for this revolutionary house is portable, allowing me to roam free, like the wind, unfettered, unchecked, subject to parking and congestion charge, which the wind doesn't have to pay.
And, sure, the house is a gnat smaller than I'd first intended, but then there's always a trade-off when it comes to location.
And, for the being of time that is now, I've decided to settle in the heart of the city.
In this sought-after area, I now enjoy a fully detached house with its own garden for a fraction of the price of neighbouring properties.
I feel embarrassed to conclude that I must give myself a series of accolades for yet another dizzying achievement.
Not only have I proved that gadgets can help you buy and sell property, I've also created a property that is a gadget.
One that allows you to move where'er you wish.
A world-beating innovation that is, in no way, pretty similar to a caravan or mobile home.
Bye.