Open home on Wisteria Lane

Visitors walk where angels fear to tread on Wisteria Lane. Picture / Rebecca Barry

Where on the map is evidence of the American Dream? Cliche tells us it's in the south, where apron-wearing moms leave apple pies cooling on window sills. Logic tells us it's probably somewhere more anonymous such as Connecticut or Oklahoma, where kids swing on tyres suspended from majestic willow trees.

Fans of Desperate Housewives, who spread from the South Pacific to the Middle East, will know it's more universal than that. Although literally, Wisteria Lane can be found at Universal Studios, a half-hour drive from central Hollywood. The perfect lawns and grand pastel villas of this suburban utopia are just past the intersection of Bob Marley Ave and Steven Spielberg Drive.

To get there, we wind our way through a deserted western town, a Mexican village and a bordello.

If Gabrielle jogged just two minutes from her mansion she'd find the plane wreck from the Tom Cruise blockbuster War of the Worlds. Close by, a huge but non-threatening Jaws lurches mechanically out of the water as another tramload of tourists chugs past.

Everything here is larger than life, but it still comes as a surprise to see that Wisteria Lane is, well, just as big as a real lane. The housewives really do live in homes that would make Auckland real estate agents drool.

The only thing to suggest this isn't an American version of Remmers is the security guard smoking on the steps of the first house, and a few lights and wires at the entrance to the road. Otherwise, on this typically sunny LA afternoon, all looks perfectly normal. A little too perfect. But more normal than you'd expect.

The gardens are filled with an assortment of blooming, swaying real trees. Kids' toys are scattered outside Lynette's house. An Aston Martin sits in Gabrielle's driveway. You almost expect Susan to come nosing her way out of her lemon villa to see what all the fuss is about.

Of course, Wisteria Lane wouldn't be so desperate if its outer perfection didn't mask the secrets of its residents.

It's no wonder John the gardener had time to tend to all of Mrs Solis' shrubbery - the guy didn't waste his time pruning real roses. The lamp-post doubled over outside Mike Delfino's is as sturdy as a drink bottle. After Susan accidentally burnt down Edie's house, her rival must have figured plastic bricks would be a cheaper replacement. Most bizarrely, inside Bree Van De Kamp's meticulously kept villa you'll find the public loos. It's a shame her house is not at number two.

Even by Hollywood's standards, it blows the mind to think what it cost to build an entire street with proper houses and expensive cars in the driveway. But here's where the smoke and mirrors come in: they're recycled. The now-defunct TV show Providence was shot at the Van De Kamps' place; Tom Hanks filmed The 'Burbs at Mike Delfino's; and the Munsters used to hang out at the Applewhites'. The Hardy Boys used to sleep at Susan's (as did Elijah Wood in Deep Impact); the 50s film Harvey was filmed at the Solis home; and Lynette's crib is where Ronald Reagan filmed Bedtime for Bonzo in the early 50s and Doris Day filmed The Thrill of it All a decade later. The Youngs' is a replica of the house in Leave it to Beaver.

And what are those tiny pockmarks in the road? Surely stilettos don't make an impression on real tarseal.