Whenever I go around London I see that they are building yet more luxury flats. In my vocabolary luxury and flats cannot be in the same sentence because I grew up in a block of flats. It was not a council estate and you did not find syringes on the staircases and the lift was always clean but I did not enjoy the experience.
A bit like this cartoon really.
We had various neighbours coming and going, the one that had lots of visitors all the time, the one that had the DIY hobby (normally early on a Sunday morning) and always seemed to manage to cause serious damage to the plumbing and therefore flooded us all. The one that insisted on having a large alsatian in his flat and kept it locked in all day long. To make it more interesting you could listen to every single family argument. With my luck the guy downstairs suffered from a serious nervous breakdown for years (no wonder) which meant we had to tiptoe at all times. And I had wanted to be a drummer. Never again.
