Costa del Maurice

He’s the nice Jewish boy from Dublin who wants to present the Late Late Show, but is currently slumbering in the Costa del Sol. If you’ve ever been to Spain, you have probably heard him on the radio. If you haven’t, this is what you’re missing. By Linsay Mackay & Trevor White

Imagine a cross between Gerry Ryan and Simon Cowell. Too awful to consider? In that case, you may not like Maurice Boland. Frankly, he doesn’t care. As I approach him in the bar of the Shelbourne Hotel he is conducting conversations with two different groups of strangers. Talk, I soon learn, comes easily to Boland. As a sometime impresario, DJ, nightclub tycoon and magazine publisher, here is a man with a long history of blowing his own trumpet.

“Bless him,” says the publicist Max Clifford. “I’ve known Maurice for many years. He has never ceased to tell me how successful and famous he is. And according to the people who work for him at the station, it’s true. I’m sure he’ll eventually turn into the superstar he thinks he is.”

Boland is by no means a superstar, but he is certainly a curiosity. Born into a well-known Dublin medical family – his father was a GP and his mother was a gynaecologist – he was sent to Sandford Park, where, by his own admission, he didn’t exactly prosper. “I wanted to be in show business,” he remembers, “from a very early age.” Seeing the Beatles on Ready Steady Go was, he recalls, a seminal experience. Then, one summer, his parents went off to America on holiday. He remembers them wishing him luck with his studies – the following day the budding drummer formed a band, the King Bees. “That 13-year-old became a 15-year-old and we became one of the first groups in Ireland.” 

The band left Dublin to try its luck in Germany – just as the Beatles had done a few years earlier. There, Boland grew up quickly. “I was 15 and I had never done it before and here I am with a woman,” he recalls. “When it was finished she said ‘You have to see my uncle now for payment.’ He drove me back under the threat of violence to where I was staying and I had to ask the boys to give me some Deutschmarks. I lost my virginity to a hooker. I never planned to do that. I thought she loved me. That was my initiation into manhood. German hookers.”

By 1968 it was evident that the King Bees were not going to be the Irish Beatles. Boland decided to try a different route to stardom by opening up Elizabeth’s, the first disco of its kind in Ireland. Soon the twenty-something nightclub king was living in a mansion in Killiney (it is now the Greek Ambassador’s residence) and driving a brand new Rolls Royce. Regulars at the club included mohair-cubs like Brian Lenihan and Charlie Haughey, as well as bona fide celebrities like Richard Harris and Peter O’Toole. The Leeson Street club was Boland’s first taste of success – and he wanted more.

Later that year, ‘Mobo’ met Wendy Gilbertson when she was modelling at a fashion show for Elvery’s at the Mansion House. They married in 1971 and had three boys. The 1970s was a golden period for the entrepreneur, despite the inevitable closure of Elizabeth’s: “Elizabeth’s was phenomenal,” he later recalled, “but there was one drawback – we were breaking the law.” Later he opened Sachs Hotel and joined forces with La Stampa owner Louis Murray to launch Barbarella’s nightclub.

By the early 1980s, Boland had grown restless with life in Ireland. According to the Sunday Independent’s Barry Egan (Boland is a regular source for Egan’s column), after losing a costly court case over a property in Rathmichael, he left the country. Arriving in Marbella, he bought Oscar’s, a disco that had been owned by Formula One driver James Hunt, and soon decided to stay. “I didn’t leave Ireland,” Maurice insists, “and I can still come back. There was no particular reason why I moved.”

The first few years were tough. “I came to Marbella in 1983 and was poor beyond belief until 1988. It was the most terrible five or six years, but I wanted to win. I couldn’t go back to Dublin with my tail between my legs.”
It was during this period that a television crew came to Marbella and filmed Boland for Today Tonight. After informing him that the programme was about well known Irish personalities living in Marbella, it was broadcast under the title ‘Life on The Run in The Sun.’ Although it was never stated that Boland was hiding out in the Costa del Sol, the implication was damaging. Boland sued RTE and won substantial damages. Then he opened a nightclub called Cuba, where, one night, he met a young model called Mandy Smith. Smith was famous at the age of 13 for having an affair with Rolling Stone Bill Wyman, who was then 46. They subsequently married: at the same time, Wyman’s son was dating Mandy Smith’s mother. Boland hurled himself into this peculiar broth when he offered to manage the aspiring starlet. To be fair, he secured considerable publicity for the mannequin, including a memorable appearance on the Late Late Show.
Inspired by VIP – itself a regional imitation of Hello! –  Boland then launched his own magazine. H! was initially successful, like many such titles. However, Boland admits that he couldn’t envisage making money out of journalism. “The costs were phenomenal. It was absolutely draining me financially.” In 2004, after a stint hosting regional TV and radio shows, he launched his own radio station, Radio Europe Mediterraneo. Boland claims that REMfm is now Spain’s largest English broadcaster.

“He is,” says one old friend, “the King of Marbella now.”

Boland’s natural chutzpah serves him well on his own early evening show, which was sponsored, until recently, by Dunnes Stores. Neil Sedaka, Margaret Thatcher, John Simpson, Trevor MacDonald and Ricky Gervais all took Boland’s call this year. “I had Saddam Hussein’s lawyer on – extraordinary character saying things like ‘What rights have you got to come to my country because you don’t like my president and walk down my main street with guns dictating what we should do. What would happen if we came to O’Connell Street?’” In an interview with Jonathan Aitken he jovially enquired: “What was it like in prison? If you dropped the soap would you kick it or bend down to pick it up?” The purpose of the show is, he insists, to make people laugh. Last month he convinced George Galloway to sing ‘Hey Mr Tambourine Man’ live on air.
A man of many exotic opinions, Boland describes global warming as “the greatest spin in the world. It’s a good thing to keep our areas clean but we’re not going to reverse this in any way whatsoever and Al Gore getting a Nobel prize to me is disgraceful when there’s a nurse out in Iraq operating on some poor guy.” His views on Daniel O’Donnell are similarly scathing, but on the record, at least, he is careful not to alienate Liveline listeners. “I’m not a big fan but I know all the mammies love him.”

It’s on the subject of broadcasting that Boland is most voluble. David Letterman is an influence, as is Gay Byrne. Boland was gutted when Pat Kenny was selected to replace Byrne at the helm of the Late Late Show. “Pat Kenny is a brilliant journalist but the Late Late Show should be hosted by someone who entertains. I really wanted that show but I didn’t get it.” Conceding that broadcasters are meant to be as neutral as possible, he continues: “I don’t. I will take sides. And sometimes I will get battered. I think political correctness is a farce. A nice middle-of-the-road broadcaster will always be liked. Someone who does my type of work will be probably disliked as much as they’re liked.” 

Despite an enviable lifestyle, Boland insists that he is not exactly loaded. “I’ve no cash but I suppose I have investments; I have a very beautiful home and nice cars. Every time I’m making money I’m pouring it back into the radio station. If I were to stop, maybe I could acquire some cash.”

After 38 years of married life he remains in awe of Wendy: “My wife looks stunning still, but not stunning in a caked make-up way. Inwardly stunning too. Everybody loves her.”  The secret to their happiness after so many years? Living together but apart.

“She has never made any rules and regulations,” explains Boland. “She has never said ‘you can’t do this.’ Being married to me and the life that I lead is very difficult. We live together, we love each other, we have three wonderful boys together but she has her own interests. She has her own company. She loves her tennis; she loves bridge with her friends. We have different kinds of company, different lives. I appreciate her hugely because she has never given me any constraints. She only says one thing – keep the family out of it.”

Boland keeps a close eye on the Irish media: “I like the Irish Independent. I get that in Spain and I like the Irish Times. I like them all. When I get up in the morning in Spain it’s surreal, eating my breakfast with all the papers in front of me on the computer.” He dreams of flying to Ireland each weekend to host a show: “I really want to come back here. I’m really homesick. I really want to get into radio and television back here.” 

Why? “I’ve been away too long and my Irish heritage is something I’m so proud of.”

Boland is similarly proud of his Jewish identity – he is Vice President of the Jewish community in Marbella – but regrets the marked decline of the community in Dublin. “There were 2,000 Jewish families in Dublin when I left. It is sad to see the Jewish community of Dublin depleted so greatly.” It is odd to see a man who liberally sprinkles his conversation with the word ‘Jaysus’ speak poignantly about religion in decline – but soon, he perks up.

“Maybe,” he quips, “I’ll come back here and make up some Jewish numbers.”

In the meantime, one cannot fault the size of Boland’s Rolodex. Publicist Max Clifford tells me, with a grin: “I got to know Maurice because I am responsible for making sure no one knows about his cross-dressing. It seems to have worked.” On a more sober note, Clifford notes that he “doesn’t take himself too seriously – and he does a lot of work for charity.” (Indeed Boland conducts a lot of auctions. A recent gig for Water Angels, for example, raised over £200,000.)

The novelist Frederick Forsyth first met Boland in the late-1970s. “We go back a long way,” says Forsyth. “REMfm is a very popular, successful show, and all credit to him. It’s worked brilliantly. It’s light-hearted, honest, occasionally controversial. He now sits in the sun, not rained on like in Dublin.”

Equally complimentary is Johnny Beerling, ex-Head of BBC Radio One: “Maurice is quite a character… His success is quite remarkable for a man who started out as a stand-up comedian. [Incorrect, but it’s easy to imagine Boland in that role.] He’s got it about right. He has a good awareness and understanding of what the audience needs. I admire him.” 

Perhaps the best person to ask for a character reference is an equally colourful chronicler of this crooked age. Jeffrey Archer told me that Maurice Boland is “the professional’s professional. He is very hard working, very demanding in his research and above all – which is not the case with all journalists – he is very fair. He sees both sides.”

So there you have it. Maurice Boland. No superstar, but a wonderful talker, and a good deal more exotic than most Irish broadcasters. Indeed he sounds almost perfect for RTE. That explains why they never call.

Comments

[MR Jake edwards in Sotogrande]

I must say that far from being some sort of a 'costa star' Maurice Boland is not liked by most of the coast, he has tried to use charity to promote his name for to long and people are tired of it! To even think that this clown could work on any station outside of Spain is a joke! His control of the English language beggars beleive at times, he also failed to cut the grade on some obscure sat tv chanel that no one has ever heard of going on to tell people he had worked for Sky TV? He also cons celebs into apearing on his 'show' by bragging he has 2 million listeners? An incredible figure in a country that only has somewhere in the region of 500,000 ex pats in his radio stations area (its not his station either)Please take him back to Ireland where he could perhaps tell jokes outside St Stephens shopping centre, that is just about what he is good enough for?