Imagine the scene. I wake up. It is still dark. I haven’t put in my “dolbies” (hearing aids) yet but I can hear a repeated tap-tapping sound from the hallway. It sounds like dripping water but of course, it can’t be that.

Can it?

I get up, put in my trousers, slippers and a top. Then I pick up my mobile. Not wishing to disturb Tigger’s sleep I don’t turn on the light but use the “torch” facility in my phone.

The hallway floor is dry. So is that in the tiny bathroom. Phew! No dripping water, then. Relief.

Then the light picks up a shininess on the floor of the living room. Relief evaporates… The dripping sound is of water coming from the ceiling: our upstairs neighbour is flooding us again. Yes, AGAIN.

I wake Tigger and tell her the news. Then I go upstairs and hammer on my neighbour’s door. No response. After trying a few more times, I give up and rejoin Tigger.

It occurs to us that if we are being flooded then so is our neighbour downstairs. Accordingly, I go down and hammer on his door. Several times. No response.

My next action is to call Partners’ Out of Hours Service [1]. Not that I expect them to be able to help but anything is worth trying..

I listen impatiently to a long, long pre-recorded message about Covid rules and regulations and protections. Finally, an actual human responds. I tell the story but receive the only too expected response: “If your neighbour is not responding, we cannot gain access; and if we cannot gain access we cannot do anything.”

I write a note and attach it to my neighbour’s door with sticky tape. “Water is dripping from our ceiling. Is it coming from your flat”.

Meanwhile, Tigger has pulled out the step-ladder from behind the bedroom door and is constructing a jury-rigged system with parcel tape and cut-up plastic bags stuck to the ceiling in order to channel at least some of the water into a bin.

Now my downstairs neighbour taps on my door to enquire whether we have water coming into our flat. He didn’t hear me knocking but, like me, woke up to find water dripping from the ceiling. While I am tiredly resigned to the situation (this is our 8th flooding from the same source), he is very angry. Ironically, today he has an appointment for repairs necessitated by the previous flooding.

I explain that Partners cannot help and say that I will call the Council when their office open. They may have a contact phone number for Mr Upstairs.

My neighbour says that he has a mobile number for Mr Upstairs but, as he is in dispute with him, is not allowed to contact him. I ask for the number as this will save me making a probably fruitless call to the Council.

I call the number. Mr Upstairs answers. I say that water is coming into our flat from above and ask if he is at home. He tells me that he is an hour away but will come back. I am careful not to accuse him of the flooding in case, by some remote chance, he is not to blame.

All we can do now is sit and wait, keeping an eye on the bin to see that it doesn’t overflow. Assuming that our neighbour does return and stem the flow, we will have to wait for the remaining water to work its way down and then clean up the mess.

We know, however, that even when some semblance of order has been restored, this is only temporary until our neighbour floods us again… and again. Neither remonstrances nor appeals to the Council have so far produced any useful result.

Later…

Mr Upstairs returned home and then called me by phone. He gave me an explanation for the flooding but this doesn’t make sense to me. He said that the taps in his kitchen sink are corroded and they drip. While he was away, he said, the dripping taps had filled the sink which then overflowed. He will call the Council to repair the taps.

I don’t know about you but I am not convinced by that story. I cannot imagine any reasonable scenario in which it could be true.

I let our downstairs neighbour know the substance of the phone call and he too is sceptical of the veracity of the story. He has already contacted the Council about our problem neighbour and will do so again. Can we ever expect a resolution of this problem?

[1] Partners is an independent company that manages and maintains the Council’s properties.

Sunday is our day for shopping, so that is what we did. When set out we found that it had rained during the night, quite hard to judge from the puddles. Even with the temperature around 7°C, it felt chilly and there was moisture in the air, making it feel colder still.

When we came to cross Pentonville Road, we found a solid and unmoving file of cars and buses in the King’s Cross direction. What was the hold-up: road works, an accident, flooding? We shall probably never know but it must have been something serious.

Farmers’ Market

On reaching Chapel Market, I paused to take a few photos of the Farmers’ Market that traditionally takes place on Sundays. There seemed to be a good turn-out as is usual in the approach to Christmas. Perhaps persistent rumours that London will be put in Tier 3 also motivates stallholders to sell as much as they can while they still can.

I stopped just long enough to take photos of the first two stalls.

Flowers and plants

This stall has a fine range of plants. I’m not a gardener or indeed knowledgeable about plants so whether these are intended as house plants or for planting out in the garden, I cannot say.

Fruit and vegetables

Fruit and vegetables are if course staples of farmers’ markets. I wonder how much trade they manage to do as we have a couple of shops selling these goods as well as several stalls in the ordinary market, not to mention that the supermarkets also sell them.

We had left home at 10:45, thinking to reach Sainsbury’s just after they opened. In theory, they open 15 minutes ahead of time to allow “browsing” before the checkouts open. (These 15 minutes are additional to the statutory opening hours.) Today, however, we arrived to find a static queue of shoppers waiting for the doors to open. We joined it but it only started moving on the dot of 11:00.

(Queues outside shops snd other businesses, something not seen in Britain since the Second World War, have become a common sight.)

We dutifully plonked the hand gel dispenser at the entrance but hardly anything came out. Despite opening late, they hadn’t managed to refill it…

I scooted off to find my own few purchases and then rejoined Tigger for the main shopping. Typical male, I have no idea what we need or where to find it in the shop while Tigger has a complete shopping list in her head. So I push the trolley and Tigger loads it.

“Choose a cheese,” she says. I do and on we go.

We found a checkout where just one customer was just finishing. When it is our turn we again cooperate. Have you noticed how the checkout people never push your items far enough along the slide? This is even more annoying now that they have installed protective barriers around the till. So, I reach around the screen for the items and Tigger packs them. Then I pay by poking my mobile through the slot to the payment machine. I like the cheerful “ploink” it makes to indicate successful payment.

Outside, someone offers me a pound coin for the trolley, saving me the effort of returning it to the trolley store. Then we head once more for Chapel Market on our way home.

I’m sure you are expecting the next bit 🙂

Goodies on sale in Mercer’s

Yes, we called in at Mercer’s for takeaway coffees. I sneaked this photo of their display of cakes and confectionary. I din’t doubt that they would give permission for photos if I asked but it’s more fun to do it covertly like a spy! (“Easily pleased”, did I hear you mutter? 🙂 )

When we reached Pentonville Road there was still a queue of traffic in the King’s Cross direction. Still, that at least made it easy to cross the road.

I was glad to be back indoors in the warm with my coffee. And there we will stay for the rest of today. Tomorrow is another day and perhaps we will venture out further, depending on the weather. For now, the shopping expedition was enough.

Here are a few bits that didn’t fit into my previous post.

During today’s walk we added to our “collection” of Christmas wreaths.

A “frosted” design

This wreath is in the popular “frosted” style. Notice something else, though: the two little china dogs in the doorstep. I have seen dogs, and even lions, in front of houses but never this small!

Spectacle case

We spotted this spectacle case, apparently nesting in a thicket. I can imagine someone accidentally dropping a case in the street but.., in the middle of a bush? That takes planning!

Wreath and rainbow glass

While “collecting” this wreath, we noticed the small piece if rainbow glass in the fanlight. It’s unusual and we wondered whether other panes were originally coloured but were broken and replaced.

Pine cones are still a popular choice.

Red berries and a gold star for good measure.

The wild and natural look.

In Prideaux Place we spied this mysterious door. We had never noticed it before. What lies within? What is the secret of the black door? 🙂

Who’s watching us?

We suddenly had the feeling we were being watched. Well, there was a Neighbourhood Watch sticker on the window so it’s only to be expected, I suppose. (Actually, some people do become suspicious of us photographing their houses and come out to ask us what we are doing. Paranoia rules, OK?)

We had a certain errand to run today which took us – conveniently – to Amwell Street and the friendly Myddelton’s deli. First, though, we took a walk around our neighbourhood which, as a result of the restrictions on our movements because of lockdowns and “tiers, I have come to know more intimately and to become ever more fond of.

Someone left the door open

I noticed this door the other day but assumed someone had removed it as a temporary measure during work but as it is still here today, it has obviously been dumped. To be honest, I’m surprised it has lasted this long in the street and am sure someone will soon “own” it as it seems to be in good nick.

How to place your letterbox

It’s a strange fact that we see the same scenery again and again and then suddenly notice a feature that has been there all along but only now strikes us as significant. Today, this feature was… letterboxes!

As I have indicated, many of the terraces of houses around here are “Georgian style”, built from the late 18th to middle 19th centuries. An important characteristic of these houses is that they are all very similar in design, though with small differences in items such as the street railings or the balconies. In particular, the front doors are all almost identical, typically comprising six or eight panels in a robust frame.

When these houses were built, the domestic postal service as we know it today did not exist. No postal deliveries meant no need for a letterbox in or near the front door. When the service was invented in the mid-Victorian era, the letterbox had to be invented as well.

The result is an interesting variation in the positioning of the familiar hole in the door. Carpenters called upon to install a letterbox had a problem to face: in a panelled door, where do you find room to cut a hole for letters? Different people found different solutions and we can still see the results today.

The upright solution

Another problem facing the carpenter was the door’s other fittings. These include the door knocker and the doorknob which is often quite large. Above is one solution: a vertically placed letterbox, avoiding the other fittings. Here, the householders have also placed the “No junk mail” notice vertically!

All the houses in this row have letterboxes in exactly the same position, suggesting that they were done as a job lot.

The horizontal solution

A lot of doors do have the more traditional horizontal letterbox where the doorknob is placed higher up on the door or has been removed altogether, leaving enough space between the panels.

Horizontal here…

…but vertical next door

In this street there is variation even between houses next door to one another. There is a reason, though: if you study the design of the door panels you will see that the red door differs from the black ones and there is simply no room for a horizontal fitting.

Double doors

I mentioned previously that the typical door is designed as though it were a double opening but that only the larger houses have a real double door. You can tell which is which by looking at the fittings: if they are in the middle, it’s one-piece door. This door is a genuine double, and the fittings are distributed on each side, as the middle is not available. In the same spirit, the householders have hung, not one, but a pair of Christmas wreaths!

Miniature letterbox

Another “solution” is to use a small letterbox. Now, as far as I know, these small letterboxes were in fact the originals. (Early pillar-boxes also had small slots.) These were later replaced by larger ones. This house still has that original fitting.

Another small-sized letterbox

I’m not sure whether the letterbox on this door has an incorporated door knocker or whether the extra metal is just an ornament but we have certainly seen doors on which the letterbox and the knocker are combined in one, saving space (and encouraging the postman to knock!)

Since originally installed, some of these doors have undergone small alterations such as the addition of an electric bell button or a spy-hole but such alterations are minimal. Houses would have had a complicated doorbell with a lever to pull. Very few of these still exist but we do encounter one from time to time (though it is probably no longer in working order).

Many of these houses were bought by the local Council, divided into flats and rented out. Quite a number, whether singly or as entire rows have been listed by Historic England. A listing preserves at least the external characteristics and appearance of the houses. Alterations, such as replacing the draughty sash windows with double glazing, are prohibited.

In some cases, a group of houses may have been destroyed by bombing during WWII but have been rebuilt exactly according to the original plans. This means many of these streets would still be recognisable to the original occupants of the houses and, for my money, makes this such a pleasant and fascinating neighbourhood in which to live and ramble.

Fine old tree, Lloyd Square

We made our way to the deli by Lloyd Square, one of the few whose central garden is still reserved for residents. I leaned over railings (somewhat enviously, I must admit) to photograph the garden and this fine old tree. Long may it thrive and preside over this quiet oasis.

Tigger is going into work today and tomorrow. Without her to encourage me, I tend to stay at home, looking up things on the Internet and not taking any exercise. This is not helped by the cold weather which tempts me to remain at home in the warm.

Today, though, I decided to make an effort and go for a walk. Quite an achievement!

Claremont Square

The temperature has risen to a heady 7°C today but it still feels cold. Bravely, I made my way round Claremont Square. I had an idea where I was going and that helped somewhat. (That and the thought of putting on the heating and making tea on my return home!)

Cruikshank Street

I next entered Cruikshank Street, named after George Cruikshank (1792-1878), an engraver, artist and caricaturist, who lived at several addresses in the neighbourhood.

Bevin Court

At the bottom of this street is a modern residential estate quite pleasantly set amongst greenery. The label st the gate identifies it as “_EVIN COURT” which, bring interpreted, stands for Bevin Court, named after the famous politician and sometime government minister, Ernest Bevin (1881-1951).

I hesitated to walk through the estate in case there wasn’t an exit on the other side but decided to chance it.

Footpath through gardens

Fortunately, there was a short narrow track that led onto a pathway that we had explored before. This took me through gardens with some fine old trees in them and eventually to the street.

Percy Circus, Great Percy Street

The street in question was Great Percy Street which ends in the pleasant square and garden called Percy Circus, where we have sat and enjoyed the calm atmosphere on a number of occasions. The name comes from Robert Percy Smith (1770-1845), lawyer and governor of the New River Company, apparently renowned for his wit and Latin verses.

King’s Cross Road and Penton Rise

A street called Vernon Rise leads down from Percy Circus and brings you to King’s Cross Road at its junction with Penton Rise. I wanted to remain in quieter neighbourhoods but before I turned back, there was something I wanted to see.

King’s Cross Baptist Church

The corner where Vernon Rise meets Penton Rise is occupied by Vernon Square which has a small public garden in it. I had remarked on this garden when we passed this way before but we had not explored it then.

Facing the gardens is the King’s Cross Baptist Church which bears a date of 1933. It replaces the original Vernon Chapel built in 1845.

Vernon Square Garden

I took a look at the garden and was somewhat disappointed to find that it was mostly paved with just a minimal amount of greenery around the edges. Better than nothing, though, I suppose.

An architectural oddity

I climbed back up Vernon Rise and was struck by this building on its corner. It has the general styling of Georgian houses but is a residential apartment or office block, not a house. This must be a later addition, styled to blend in with existing buildings. This is confirmed by something I spotted fixed to the wall between two first-floor windows. Perhaps you can see it in the photo.

Blue plaque to Lenin

It is a blue plaque in memory of Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov Lenin who resided here in 1905. What interested me, however, was the tailpiece of the inscription which reads “Stayed in 1905 at 16 Percy Circus which stood on this site”. This confirmed my contention that the building is (relatively) modern, having been built some time after 1905, replacing the original Georgian style houses. (It goes to show that blue plaques have their uses!)

Mysterious tunnel

Also in Vernon Rise, jarring with the period houses, stands this large complex. What it is I have no idea. This entrance tunnel allows a distant view of an open area. Maybe we’ll explore it another time.

Lonely umbrella. Forgotten? Dumped?

At the entrance to a block of flats in Great Percy Street I spotted this lonely umbrella patiently awaiting its owner beside the entrance. Has it been forgotten? Or perhaps cruelly abandoned? We shall never know!

Inviting steps

When nearly home, I spied these intriguing stairs. Don’t you agree they seem to invite one to climb them and see where they lead? No chance: they are inside the railings enclosing the Claremont Square reservoir and I took the photo by poking my phone between the bars. Not everything is as magical as it seems at first glance!