Welcome to the money pit! When these couples took on run-down mansions they got a lot more than they bargained for

Dodgy plumbing, huge bills, sleepless night and tenants who are staying put. So would YOU take on a crumbling mansion with 63 chimneys and galloping dry rot?



A new Channel 4 series, Country House Rescue - presented by hotelier and country house expert Ruth Watson - talks to families who have taken on dilapidated piles, charting the dilemmas, money worries and family rows. We talk to three of the couples who gave it a go...

Albury Park

The Mansion, Albury Park, Surrey



Sixty-year-old Nigel Whalley is married to Jennifer, 55. Four years ago, they took on The Mansion in Albury Park, Surrey. The Tudor home, which has 63 chimneys, is Grade-II listed and is divided up into 45 apartments.



NIGEL SAYS: When we first saw the house, the turrets were silhouetted against the sunset and we fell in love with it instantly. It is a remarkable building that seems to rise out of another age, and there is a sense of calm around it and the gardens, as if you are stepping back in time.



Both Jennifer and I felt it, and bought the house immediately. It's a privilege to live somewhere like this - everything is on such an elegant scale. Even though we are near to Guildford, this is We bought the house for £4.5 million, and we've spent at least another million on renovations. People say, 'How on earth are you going to survive?' But it doesn't worry me. I was in the residential home trade before, as my family owned a stately home for the elderly which I ended up having to rescue from financial disaster, so I've sort of been here before. I am sure we will survive. We adore the house so much.a world away from modern life.

We bought the house for £4.5 million, and we've spent at least another million on renovations. People say, 'How on earth are you going to survive?' But it doesn't worry me. I was in the residential home trade before, as my family owned a stately home for the elderly which I ended up having to rescue from financial disaster, so I've sort of been here before. I am sure we will survive. We adore the house so much.

Jennifer and Nigel Whalley at Albury Park in Surrey



When we moved in, it was divided into apartments and we inherited 19 elderly residents. There is no way we could have turfed any of them out as they had leases, and besides, this was their home. Gradually, as they move on to homes with more care or, sadly, die, then we are renovating the apartments and selling them.



We are having to - the pressure is on to pay back the money we borrowed from the bank. The running costs here are vast, with gas and electricity alone costing £6,500 a month.



Financially, it is a white-knuckle ride, and Ruth criticised us for spending too much on refurbishment. She also lambasted our decorating. On entering the drawing room, which is yellow, she said, 'This is like walking into a mustard pot,' which was not fair, as it's a lovely room. But we appreciated the advice and we welcomed her expertise.



We work from eight in the morning until nine or ten at night, and we haven't had a day off for over a year. But hard as it is, it is a labour of love. When you buy a house like this, you take on its heritage.



It was built in the 1500s, and an earlier house on the site is mentioned in the Domesday Book and has been a private house, owned by Henry Drummond of Drummonds Bank. I feel as if we are the custodians of something historic and valuable, and have a duty to do the renovations as tastefully as we can.



Houses like this need to evolve, they cannot stay static if they are to survive. Jennifer and I have a flat on the ground floor. I can't imagine living in all of the house - you'd need an army of staff - and living like we do feels very much like home.



We have a staff of more than 20, many of whom have looked after the house for about 30 years, so we feel it belongs to them as much as us. Renovating this house to its former glory will be such an achievement, it makes everything we are going through worth while.



Pentillie Castle, Cornwall



Last year, Ted Coryton, 61, and his wife, Sarah, 59, inherited the 18-bedroom Pentillie Castle. The couple, who have three grown-up children, plan to run the house as a wedding venue and for exclusive hire, and they live in a farm on the estate.



Sarah and Ted Coryton at Pentillie Castle

TED SAYS: When I discovered I had inherited the house, I could have sold up and become indescribably rich or moved in, becoming indescribably broke. It was last Christmas Eve and we sat around the table as a family and discussed whether we were mad enough to take on the project.



Every member of the family had different ideas: running a cookery school, hiring it out, or selling - even after death duties, we would have had enough money to make millionaires of all of us. In fact, a friend of mine offered me up to £17 million, and there was that split second of wondering.



I could be lying on a beach in the Caribbean now, and driving a Bentley rather than a beaten-up Land Rover. However, I believe that money does not make you happy. My daughter, Roonie, is an NHS physiotherapist, and what price would her £20,000-odd salary be against inheriting all that money? It makes working pointless, and work is good for you. So together, we decided to take on the challenge of updating the castle and making it pay.



The house had been owned by my cousin. When he died, his widow stayed on and basically lived as a hermit. She died at 92 without any of us going inside the place for years, so only when I opened the door for the first time did I realise what we were taking on.



The castle was built in 1698, and was greatly altered in 1810 and again in 1966. It had been modernised a little, but was in a poor condition. There was just one bathroom for 18 bedrooms, and the only insulation was straw in the roof.



We were facing inheritance tax of about £1.5 million, plus all the costs of the renovation. I'm paying this off by selling parts of the land, but we are currently selling into a falling market. But then, when I look up at the walls and the battlements, the castle seems to tell me I am doing the right thing. The house draws you in, and you begin to fall in love with it.



Pentillie Castle

We're hard at work on the renovations now, and the plan is to be open to the public by July next year. Getting reliable workmen and builders is one of the hardest things.

People look at the size of it and say, 'No thanks.' My painter walked out after two weeks, which was a disaster as painting the exterior was a major project. It was grey, and it is now a much brighter orangey-yellow.



My wife is in charge of the interior decor, and we're installing bathrooms and renovating. I have had many sleepless nights lying there fretting at two or three in the morning, but the finances will work out in the end, I'm sure.



The castle came with staff, not least of all Ivor Palmer, who's 83 and does the gardening five days a week. I feel he owns the house as much as I do. It's been in our extended family for generations.



For all the sleepless nights it is such a privilege to own a house like this. We look out over the most astounding view in Cornwall, and I feel extremely privileged and proud to have the ownership of such an extraordinary building. It is huge - it takes 20 minutes to walk around the perimeter of the walls - and there's almost a sense of disbelief when you compare it to the houses in which I grew up.



It's a cross I will happily bear for my children, and the house is registered as a business, so I can give it to my children, free of inheritance tax. I'm relishing the challenge, too - we all are. It is a fantastic legacy from me to them, and knowing that drives us on.



Black Clauchrie House



Caroline Goodall, 43, and her husband, Adrian, 45, bought Black Clauchrie House in Ayrshire in Scotland four years ago. The couple each have a grownup child from their first marriage, and six-year-old Georgina together. Black Clauchrie is a remote, Arts and Crafts mansion which was built in 1901.



Expert: Ruth Watson

CAROLINE SAYS: Frankly, financially it is a nightmare. I have sleepless nights wondering if we did the right thing, and imagining what it would be like to downsize and not have such money worries.



We bought the house for £680,000, and have since spent a fortune doing it up - whatever needs doing, we imagine a figure and then Adrian says, 'Add another nought'.



We are already renting out the main house for holiday lets and weddings, but it is by no means paying for itself, and we do not have any staff. In the winter, it's so hard to drag myself from my bed at 6am and start preparing breakfasts and cleaning up after our guests.



The idea was to live in the main house, which is absolutely stunning, and has nine bedrooms and a ballroom with a barrelled roof and minstrels' gallery. It was built for a wealthy couple who wanted to use it for hunting, shooting and fishing.



But the fact is we can't afford to live in it. We now live in an attached cottage, and it's taken Adrian a long time to come to terms with having to rent out the house as a source of income.



We realised this a few months after moving in, and it's made both of us feel sad that it isn't going to be the dream home that we envisaged. We charge guests about £2,000 a week, but that doesn't cover the maintenance-and renovations. There are five cottages on the estate, but at the moment we can't afford to do them all up - once they're up and running as holiday lets, we'll be fine, but there is still a long way to go.

Adrian has a farm contracting business and when we initially saw this place, the plan was to sell our house in Halifax. We had a buyer for £1.1 million, but then he pulled out on the day of exchanging contracts, and we then had to accept an offer of a lot less.



Meanwhile, we were committed to buying Black Clauchrie and, under the Scottish system, you have to go ahead. So we had to take on a bridging loan, and the whole thing was a disaster.



It wasn't until we moved in that we realised the full scale of the work we had to do - the plumbing was a shambles, it needed to be completely rewired and the timber in the window frames was rotten. We had to treat the dry rot and woodworm - all unseen renovations, but essential.



Caroline and Adrian Goodall at Black Clauchrie

Everything here is on such a huge scale - having the windows cleaned costs us £150. We had fallen in love with the house, but it was just consuming money, and before we knew where we were we'd spent another £175,000 on renovations.



Ruth Watson says that if we want to make this work we have to throw everything at it. Adrian should sell his farming contract machines and put that capital into the business, and I should employ some staff to help me, as I am running myself ragged.



There's no money for clothes or luxuries, and we have only had one holiday in four years. It does feel at times as if this beautiful house is consuming us. I sometimes feel very isolated, especially when Adrian is away.



Ruth made us draw up a list of pros and cons and reasons for staying, and it made us realise what a passion the house had become for us both. We just need to be able to afford the renovations and make the cottages pay.



I love having the guests here - we have met some wonderful people. I am sure we will stay, and make it work. That will be such an achievement, and it's lovely to think so many other people will be getting pleasure from this remarkable house.



Country House Rescue starts on Channel 4 on 9 December.

