(mean)time in Greenwich

After living in a busy house in a noisy area (sleeping on a mattress and listening to the Brick Lane boozers) Greenwich was like heaven.

I had always said that I'd hate to live in London…and here I am after living here for 3 years. It's not my first choice of places to live, being the country bumpkin that I am, but I'm more than surviving.

When I thought of London I thought of places like Brick Lane; exciting to visit but not to a place to stay. I had no idea what Greenwich would be like when I got on the train to visit the flat I'd soon be living in. I don't think even a seasoned Londoner could imagine the flat I moved into to be honest though!

When I knocked on the door of the big old townhouse next to Greenwich Park the first thing I saw was a theatrical looking old lady in dark clothes, with heavy makeup and 'arty' hair….the second thing I saw was the head of a life-size cardboard giraffe peering over the bannister of the stairs in the big hallway…

The lady who greeted me was Ann, my new landlady. She lived in the main part of the house. Cassie and me would be living in the attic flat three floors above. There was also a man living in a basement flat and another woman living in a small flat in the old servants part of the house. Only photos can describe the house properly so I'll post a few. Everywhere was covered in dried flowers and cardboard cut-outs. The landlady's homemade patchwork curtains and framed collages added to the…original feel.

As I sat chatting to Ann in her kitchen I felt like I'd been there before. There was an old sofa stacked with books and every single space on the walls were covered in picture frames and hung plates.

It turned out that the house and its garden had often starred in TV, movies and fashion photoshoots. I recognised the kitchen from 'Driving Lessons' in which Julie Walters (playing a character not dissimilar to Ann) employs Rupert Grint for something or other. I can't remember. I have it on DVD now though!

The attic was a little more normal but normality in that house was still crazy compared to flats that were actually normal. My bedroom had bright green walls and a shiny silver ceiling… I loved the place straight away. It was weird and different and Greenwich felt like a little village away from real London.

Francois the Bike

That summer was brilliant and comfortable. The flat had it's flaws (the woman in the flat downstairs was mental, the 'double glazing' consisted of pieces of glass wedged into the window frame over the original windows, the fuses were dodgy and the shower temperamental) but it was still a novelty and sunshine always filled the rooms.

I even had an old bike called Francois to cycle around the park. 

Wintertime was when the place lost its appeal. The screechy neighbour was now irritating, the windows didn't close fully, the lights didn't work properly and the shower committed suicide. I don't know about you but the last thing I want to do after a days work is sit in the dark in an icy breeze listening to the drunkard neighbour after a cold shower…

To make things even more 'exciting' the roof to my bedroom sprung three streaming leaks in one evening. I had to drag my bed into the middle of the room to avoid being drowned in the night.

The upside was that when it snowed that February the whole of Greenwich was cut off from public transport so I had to stay home from work for two days. I was still cold though.

Anyway, I decided one winter was enough and gave myself the deadline of the next Christmas to be living somewhere less interesting but more sensible. After a long and boring search I eventually found the place I live in now and waved goodbye to Greenwich just before my deadline. After carrying all my stuff down three floors of narrow winding stairs and loading it into a van, I made my way to my new adventures in North London (but that's another story)