The Stones' studio was perfect, from the well-stocked bar to the instrument cages that contained all their beautiful old guitars. Bassist Bill Wyman wasn't there, but they just swopped instruments around and all got on with each other.
'God, I wish our band was like that', I thought.

I just wanted to sit in the corner and enjoy it, but John was all over the place, swaying around and going 'woo. . whooooo'. He was making a total spectacle of himself. I don't know if one of the Stones said something to upset him but he then got very emotional and ended up crying his eyes out on the shoulder of Jo Wood, Ronnie's wife. Jo was used to dealing with mad rock stars, but I was mortified. 'Come on, John, let's go,' I said.

Back at the Plaza Athenee, there was bedlam. Nick's wife Julie Anne had locked him out of their suite and was screaming at the top of her voice out on the balcony. People thought she was going to fall off. The fire brigade were called and the whole thing descended into a farce, with Nick charging up and down the corridors, until they managed to calm Julie Anne down.
When I woke up early the next morning, a wave of depression hit me. I felt embarrassed at the memory of John staggering around at the Stones session, and exhausted by the nastiness of the commotion at the hotel.
Suddenly, I found myself crying uncontrollably. This can't go on, I realised.
The booze, the drugs and the carnage that surrounded my life in Duran Duran were all too much. I knew I was heading for a nervous breakdown if I didn't change my lifestyle. That's when I made up my mind that I'd just do the Bond video and get the hell out of there.
I put on my dark sunglasses and went to the shoot. Then I left the Plaza Athenee and I've never been back since.
Looking back, I can see that Duran Duran had already split up months ago. We just didn't know it.