Latest Homes magazine

Latest Interiors gets cozy around the fireplace this week as we check out all you need to know to keep warm

Despite decades of development and renovation, many Brighton and Hove properties retain one or two original fireplaces. A well-proportioned period fireplace and surround lend a certain elegance to rooms, and chilly winter nights often give the motivation needed to reinstate lost fireplaces. Newer properties can also benefit from some cosy firesideambience by adding one of the modern alternatives to open fires. But in these days of HIPs and hesitant markets, what are the hottest – or greenest – fires to light? Latest Interiors finds out…

Brighton Architectural Salvage
33-34 Gloucester Road, Brighton BN1 4AQ | Map
01273 681656 www.brighton-architectural.co.uk

Working originals

If your home has a fireplace but you don’t know whether it works, have the chimney inspected and swept. In period properties that have been converted to multiple dwellings, bathrooms and kitchens may be ventilated through the chimney, or there could be other structural problems that might make it unsafe to use. If there is no fireplace, but you know from neighbouring properties that your home would have had one originally, try knocking on a few walls where it would have been positioned: you might just find the original hearth lurking behind some plasterboard, or at least be able to re-fit a working fireplace.

When re-instating or replacing fireplaces, be guided by the period of your property. You can find reclaimed Victorian and Edwardian pieces in markets and salvage shops, although sourcing replacement Deco, Nouveau or arts and crafts fireplaces can be more difficult. Several local specialists stock reproduction pieces to suit a variety of styles, with stone, cast iron and wood surrounds, and some will make a bespoke fireplace or surround. For a contemporary look, keep it simple – ’hole-in-the-wall’ type fireplaces with no detail or surround look great and go with almost any period style.

Stoves

Stoves are an economical, clean and stylish alternative to open fires. Controls allow you to regulate the speed that fuel burns, making them more cost-effective, and ash and soot is contained and easy to remove. Styles vary, from quaint, period ‘potbellied’ stoves to the very sleek and modern, and some styles come with built-in log stores, or hotplates for warming food and drink. Stoves are easily adapted for use with a variety of different fuels, and their enclosed design can make them safer for small children and pets.

What’s the alternative?

If you’ve no fireplace or even chimney, you can still have a roaring fire this winter. Modern ‘living flame’ gas and electric fires have come a long way – you’d be hard-pressed to tell many of them from the real thing. Surrounds can be period or modern, and even stoves come in gas and electric varieties. The more popular designs use stones and pebbles rather than wood or coal effects. Gas and electric fires produce no smoke or waste in the home, although like any other appliance the energy they use has knock-on environmental effects. For something different, clean and green, check out gel fires – fume and smoke-free fires suitable for indoor or outdoor use, powered by a flammable gel.

Charnwood Cove Wood Burning Stove
Firestores, 80 Dyke Road, Brighton | Map
01273 329829

Keep it clean

After (or even before) style, the major issue for any real fire is what fuel to burn. The Clean Air Acts of the last century mean that many areas of Brighton and Hove are now smoke-free areas (see this Word Document for a full list), where burning wood or conventional coal is forbidden and only smokeless coal may be used. However, this is less eco-friendly than it sounds, since smokeless coal is actually no better than any other non-renewable fossil fuel in the carbon-production stakes. Wood, on the other hand, is a renewable, carbon-neutral material, because the carbon dioxide released equals only what the tree has used during its life. Check whether your street is smoke-free, and choose your fuel accordingly. For a very green fire, invest in an eco-friendly ‘logmaker’ that recycles household waste, paper, and possibly even some unwanted Christmas presents into compact, easy to burn ‘logs’.

Andrew Kay scrabbles to mince his words

I’m not sure I can face Facebook for much longer. Yes, it is nice to be in touch, but does it have to come with so much claptrap. Managing Facebook could become a full-time occupation, precluding any actual social intercourse in favour of the sanitised world of the web.

One thing it has done for me is given me yet one more vice with which I have to battle. Whilst others struggle with their own demons of drugs and drink, I am now struggling withy the addictive nature of an online game.

Yes, my name is Andrew and I am addicted to Scrabulous. I have of course been addicted to Scrabble since childhood. Anyone who loves words loves Scrabble. Mum and dad played, and as a teenager, so did I. In my thirties I rediscovered it but also found that there were fewer people prepared to play. One or two are put off by the competitive way I play. I’m unconvinced about uncompetitive game playing – sports days where no one is a winner or a loser. Surely we are preparing kids for a very unreal future.

‘‘I’m unconvinced about un-competitive games. Surely we are preparing kids for an unreal future’’

Anyway, Facebook introduced me to Scrabulous and now I am hooked. I play morning and evening, often turning off John Humphries in favour of a game. At that time of day you can be playing someone in Mumbai or New Orleans, it’s a strange timeless world, and one filled with equally addicted word geeks.

Scrabulous gives you a rating too, which means that people can decide whether to play you or not. It can be quite upsetting being rejected at 7am by a stranger in the subcontinent on the grounds that your rating is too high or too low. My rating is quite high but not astronomical, which means that I get a fair amount of rejection from the very good and from the not very good. Being pretty good is a lonely place on planet Scrabulous.

I also have problems with the way the game is played. By that I mean that as yet I have not got to grips with either the formats or the rules of play. Words that I have used for years are rejected and words that I dismiss as slang crop up as acceptable. It’s all very confusing.

This morning I was alarmed to find someone using a word that I would hesitate to play, quite brazenly. I will not even print it here, but there it sat, unashamedly in the middle of the board having been electronically accepted. I blushed, then pressed on. Will Scrabulous lower my standards? I hope not, although if you can play that sort of word I might have to if I am to retain my rating. What a dilemma I face – to swear or not to swear? That is the question.

Matt McGuire takes a trip up Coombe Road in search of tasty sustenance for the body and soul

The festive season is now officially over (meaning, I think, that it is now sadly illegal to shoot jangling reindeer and/or carol singing preteens) and it’s time to make amends for all our foolish frolicking. As a nation our vitamins and inhibitions have been banished and replaced with liver ache and shame, and so it is to places like Manna that we should all repair.

Manna is a café for the soul, and it’s run by the effervescent Christine Hearn. “I love feeding people,” she says, with a grin. “I love fattening them up!”

Christine had never run a café before (“It was complete madness! I had no idea of the regulations or what was really involved!”), but had always liked the idea. Then three years ago she came across Coombe Road with its bona fide Victorian parade and fell in love with its olde world charm. “It’s such a great street – there are so few left like it,” she says. “Everything pointed to it being the right time to give it a go.”

“I love feeding people, I love fattening them up!”

It was also important for Manna to be an integral part of the local community. “I always wanted it to be a place where, say, if a kid ever got accidentally locked out of home, they could just rock up,” she smiles. And this friendly, family feel of the place is enhanced by the fact that Manna is often staffed by Christine’s own children.

Most of the fabulous food (including incredible cakes, delightful panninis and toasties, scrumptious soups, salads and more) is homemade and that which isn’t is locally sourced. “The bread’s from The Real Patisserie,” explains Christine, “and we get a lot of our veg by trading our cakes with folk on the allotments.”

They recycle and compost and are also as organic as their budget permits. “But no matter how ethical and green you want to be the price of purely organic produce is often prohibitive for small businesses,” she admits. “We’re really proud of the quality of food we provide, but sadly there have to be limits.”

The décor at Manna is homely and inviting too, all natural wood, pot plants and twinkling fairy lights. And in case that raises your post-Poppins heckles, please pipe down and remember the first rule of interior decoration: fairy lights are for life, not just for Christmas.

Christine Hearn, Manna café, 24 Coombe Road, Brighton BN2 4EA | Map
01273 620635

The Paul O’Grady Show’s Marc Abraham examines the legacy of two fascinating but endangered marine species

Ask any scuba diver what they’d most like to witness close-hand, and the majority will answer: whale shark. I’ve been diving for a few years now and still haven’t seen a whale shark – the world’s largest fish, and slow-moving plankton-eating filter feeder that can grow to 12 metres (40 feet) and weigh up to 21 tonnes.

Their rarity and status as ‘scuba-gold’ is down to two main factors – they remain deep in the oceans for months rarely rising towards the surface; and they are a threatened species.

“Tens of millions of sharks suffer painful deaths to supply the cruel and wasteful shark fin trade”

Since 2004, a global programme, in which ‘citizen scientists’ identify new sharks and post photographs on an online library, has proved to be a major milestone in both science and conservation of these creatures.

Named ECOCEAN, this rather special project tracks individual whale sharks around the world’s oceans using a web-based photo-ID library, cataloguing each whale shark’s unique “bodyprint” – identified by the left and right side spot patterns above their pectoral fins.

Researchers and eco-tourists submit images, which are logged, revealing a picture of whale shark movements and behaviour. Last month, the 1000th whale shark, a 6.5 metre (19-feet) male, was recently reported by a marine biologist in Mozambique.

By naturally tagging these most gentle of animals, valuable data helps not only determine their numbers and migration patterns, but also to identify critical breeding and feeding grounds which must be urgently protected. Building a better understanding of this threatened species will help save the largest fish in the ocean from extinction.

But it’s not only the whale shark that’s in danger. Every year, tens of millions of sharks suffer painful deaths to supply the cruel and wasteful shark fin trade. Fins are used in ‘delicacy’ dishes such as shark fin soup, which may be served by Chinese restaurants and during various events.

And tragically, the global shark fin trade is now approaching its annual peak with next month’s Chinese New Year.

Sharks’ fins are often removed when the animals are still alive; the sharks are then thrown back into the water to endure a painful death from suffocation, blood loss, or predation by other species.

This means that massive numbers of sharks are caught and finned to supply the unsustainable fin trade.

Despite alarming declines in shark populations, hundreds of tonnes of shark fins will be changing hands this Chinese New Year for astronomical prices, as restaurants and hotels stock up to meet anticipated demand for the upcoming celebrations.

This horrific, brutal and backwards practice is a travesty on nature that must stop; rapidly disappearing numbers of these creatures, who also feel pain, will sickeningly change the whole ocean ecosystem forever.

For more information visit www.whaleshark.org

With Louisa Bell of City and Country Gardens

Design and construction

Bricks and mortar Bricks are wonderful things. I remember first learning about them at college, and becoming a complete anorak later, looking at walls to see how they had been built at every opportunity. If you look at a wall, you can see that the bricks are laid in different ways. A ‘stretcher’ is the long side of the brick and the ‘header’ is the short end of the brick. If a brick is laid with the stretcher edge, side by side, and then one over the top – laid in the middle of the gap – this is called a stretcher bond. An old brick wall may be laid with English Bond. This is where there is a row of stretchers followed by a row of headers. This makes the wall very strong, and thick too. There are walls with alternate headers and stretchers, and other patterns too. Once you start looking, it’s really interesting to see how walls have been built (honestly!). Our house was built with alternating headers and stretchers which is called Flemish Bond.

Bricks enabled buildings to be more permanent. The original mud bricks were far more susceptible to weather conditions, so clay bricks started to be used across Europe from around 1200AD. The ancient Egyptians used mudbrick extensively, and the ratio for the dimensions of their bricks was 4:2:1, the same ratio used today! Those Egyptians were a clever lot. The Roman legions operated mobile kilns and introduced bricks to many parts of their empire.

During the Renaissance, visible brick walls were unpopular so the brickwork was often covered in plaster. It wasn’t until the mid 18th century that brick walls regained their popularity.

Before the age of transport – canals, railways and trucks – it was difficult to transport bricks from region to region so local bricks were made using local clay. Transporting bricks by horse and cart doubled their price. Pink coloured bricks show more iron content, and white or more yellow bricks have more lime. Most bricks burn to a red hue, but if the temperature is increased the colour moves through dark red, purple and then to brown or grey at around 1300°C.

Bricks can also be made from stone – granite, limestone and sandstone – but these need far greater foundations due to their enormous comparative mass. Skilled labour is needed for construction, but they look wonderful and are incredibly durable.

Bricks are used today for low-rise buildings as other materials are far better for taller buildings. Bricks are slow to lay and labour intensive. Huge sheets of steel and glass can create wall and division far more quickly.

A brick wall will last for many years. It is frost proof and will age slowly and beautifully. Lichens will grow and the brick will hold warmth from the sun, providing a popular environment for climbers or peach trees. Old or new bricks can be used and the old Victorian walled kitchen garden was often the warmest place in the garden to sit. I can just imagine how lovely that must have been on a warm spring day.

Plants

Ferns
This is a huge family of plants with thousands and thousands of species. The fern dates back to the dinosaur age, and the coal that we mine today is made up of many prehistoric plants including ferns. It’s no surprise that the Jurassic Park monsters lumbered around the forest floor through huge groups of ferns. Someone in the film crew had clearly done their homework. Ferns are actually far more exciting than you would think. They look really wonderful planted near or around statues, water features and old fashioned bird paths or pedestals. They like a shady spot and, apparently, a more alkaline soil than I have ever given my specimens. If you have an especially damp and dull spot, then think about buying something special to go there – some artefact. Visit a salvage yard and look for something made of stone – an old plinth, a gargoyle – and plant some ferns around the base. It works really well in any garden – modern or traditional.

The Victorians loved ferns and created special glass cases for them called wardian cases. They decorated glass, china and jewellery with fern images. Ferns don’t have flowers and for many years it wasn’t understood how they could reproduce. It was even believed that they produced invisible flowers on Midsummers Eve! Now their spores and reproductive life is no longer a mystery, just a marvel. I love watching the new fronds unfurl from their spiral home.

Things to do

Seeds of wisdom
This is a good time to order your plant and seed catalogues. When it’s too wet to get outside – or even dry, but too cold – you can sit by the window with a mug of tea, and the last of the Christmas cake, while looking at seeds and plants that you intend growing this year. Now this is a bit like going shopping when you’re starving. The pictures look wonderful, the descriptions are irresistible but the ‘serving suggestion’ shown in the photograph is not necessarily what you’ll see, so don’t get carried away!

If you’re new to gardening, stick to hardy annuals and just a couple of perennials. If you want to grow vegetables, think carefully about the space that’s available and don’t be tempted to try and grow more veg than space. Things like cabbages and cauliflowers take up a lot of space and time for the yield. Tomatoes and potatoes are great value for money, and even the smallest garden can have space for a tomato plant. I love growing plants from seed. There’s such a sense of achievement as they germinate and start to grow into healthy little plants. You’ll grow far more than you need but it’s lovely to give a friend some plants to take home. When the window sills are full of seed trays, all with their own little labels, I can believe that spring is on the way again. Seed catalogues are free and my favourite company is Thompson and Morgan. I read a report recently that also said their seeds were among the best for germination success.

Happy seeding!

City & Country Gardens
For all the things in your garden – talk to us!
01273 202115 / 01903 892285
www.city-gardens.net

The Landlady

I am always fascinated to hear about weird family traditions and habits. For example, when I was around five-years-old, I had a Great Uncle who, on greeting me, would say “How do you do?”, to which I would reply “Very well thank you, how are you?”, to which he would again reply “Very well thank you, how are you?”, to which I would reply with the same. We would repeat the question amid much hilarity more times than I care to think about, to a point by which even I was finding it a little tedious. He must have had the patience of a saint. We also had a holiday tradition when, driving to Weymouth from Dorchester, my mother and I would sing a two-part harmony of Speed Bonny Boat, which was far more of a torture than a tradition for our fellow passengers, I fear.

Just recently, myself and my older offspring have developed our own, rather strange family tradition. It first came about when I recounted one of my ‘amusing’ – or so I thought – anecdotes to them one evening. My amusing anecdote, which is a true story, involves a jingle composer I still work with who was, for many years, Leo Sayer’s lead guitarist. One night during the early 80s – when Leo was, no doubt, the wrong side of his ‘use by’ date – the band were out touring some venues in South Africa. I am sure that, at this time, the venues were not entirely politically correct and the band were being transported from gig to gig in an old Lancaster Bomber. Anyway, during one gig, the band ended up drinking too much beer and, with Lancaster Bombers not being best known for their washroom facilities, the entire ensemble were dying for a pee. The pilot refused to land for such piffling reasons and instead, flew very low over some corn fields while the band, one by one, peed out of the open door in a bizarre crop-spraying kind of way. It’s a good job that it was only a four piece band and not the entire London Philharmonic Orchestra – although I do also have some fairly hairy LPO drinking stories, from knowing one of the violinists…

“My children feign the pulling-on of an afro wig and singing, thus drowning out my current story”

Anyway, that is the end of the Leo anecdote, which I recounted to the kids very late one night when The Big Son came in fairly drunk, having been to a party on a boat in London. He had been mortified when, on the return coach journey, the driver had refused to stop and let the assembled rabble of 18-year-old boys get off and have a pee, even though they had been drinking all evening. This reminded me of my Leo Sayer story, which I duly recounted to be greeted with blank faces. The upshot of all this is that since I recounted my Leo story, every time I get half-way through a similar anecdotal exercise, all three of my children feign the pulling-on of an afro wig and start singing “I feel thunder in myheart…” at the tops of their voices, thus drowning out my current story. Thunder In My Heart is of course the only Leo Sayer song my children know and I would far prefer You Make Me Feel Like Dancing as it is sung in a higher register and would have a more comical effect. I am sure that this is a tradition that will endure and, from now on I shall be keeping my amusing anecdotes to myself. So there.

The Paul O’Grady Show’s Marc Abraham on how walking Rover can help banish those Christmas pounds

So, how many of us have already broken our New Year’s resolutions? Urgent changes in lifestyle, fitness regimes and stopping all bad habits are usually top of our lists, and always first to go. What’s more, we’re all guilty! Year upon year we help ourselves to that extra serving of Christmas pudding, self-promising that we’ll join a gym, or better still, attend the one we joined last January! Of course the reality is that we’ve not got the time, can’t be bothered, or simply just tire of exercise routines, making little progress in getting fitter and healthier – and we’re another year older.

Walking your dog is one of the most effective forms of physical activity. It is a key factor in the health and wellbeing of your dog and it will help you shed some of those extra pounds gained over Christmas too – especially when you consider that it is estimated most of us eat around 7,000 calories on Christmas Day alone!

So what are you waiting for? Switch off the telly, leave Facebook alone for an hour-or-so, wrap-up warm and go take your dog for a walk. Regularly walking your four-legged friend is so good for you for so many reasons. For example, did you know that 30 minutes of brisk dog walking can burn around 300 calories – the equivalent to a ‘typical’ portion of Christmas pudding?

“Walking your pooch can improve your self esteem and relieve depression and anxiety”

Do that at least five times a week and you’ll be receiving the important ultra-healthy benefits from such a dedicated and structured exercise routine. These include longer life expectancy and a reduced risk of not just heart disease, but other health conditions such as diabetes, high blood pressure and osteoporosis. That’s only 1.5% of the total time in a week, and for a priority like improving your health, it represents an excellent investment of time and effort.

Walking your pooch regularly can also enhance mental wellbeing, improving self-esteem, relieving symptoms of depression and anxiety and improved mood. We’re so spoilt for beautiful scenery here in Sussex: beaches, fields and forests that are perfect for relaxation, social contact and ideal for a family adventure in the fresh air. Why not take a flask of something hot and a few snacks and make a day of it? If children experience walking as part of a fun activity they are more likely to want to go again rather than sitting at home playing their computer games and getting fat.

The benefits of owning a pet are crystal clear. Walking your dog on a regular basis is great – it will help keep you, your family and your pet healthy. Furthermore, along with exercise, it is also important that you look after the health of your pet too. So please worm your pet at least four times a year, keep all vaccinations up to date, and of course pick up your dog’s poo to prevent contamination of the environment.

Happy walking!

With Louisa Bell of City and Country Gardens

Design and construction

Slip sliding away
Although the shortest day has been and gone now (hurrah!), the winter really takes its grip in January and February. The frosts have been particularly hard in December and although I’ve enjoyed the winter wonderland they create, it’s hard work being on the ground when it’s frozen like iron. The cold seeps right through your boots andinto your toes and it isn’t long until you can’t feel your fingers. All you accountants and bankers out there who dream of a life out in the open during your stuffy summers in the office, be aware of the realities!! Brrrrrrr.

Most gardens are looking downright miserable now. Even all year planting doesn’t look pretty when it’s limp and frozen solid. I have been visiting clients with all kinds of paving and decking in their existing gardens. An early morning appointment can make it quite apparent if their garden surfaces are a death trap. Frosted paving slabs, frost covered decking – it looks pretty, but the snowy white plaster cast that can follow straight after a walk round the garden isn’t so inviting.

Most of us will avoid the garden at this time of the year – it’s just a dash out to the bins, to feed the birds or to bring in more logs. However, make sure these key walkways are safe and non-slippery. Don’t just think about your own family either. If you have elderly neighbours or parents, take a bit of time out to look at their gardens too. They will often use their garage in the cold – we hardy youngsters don’t mind a bit of scraping and de-icing. Make sure their garage paths are safe and lit. Check their walkway to the bins and their security lighting. As you know, a broken bone for us will heal quickly and easily but a broken bone for an older person can be very debilitating.

I do quite like decking again. It seems to have come full circle, and now we’re using the smooth side, and wider boards, it does look really good. However, it is the worst culprit for a slippery surface. Please don’t put it outside any main exits from the house unless it’s a particularly resinous wood – a hard wood deck is best – and this prevents it from becoming too lethal. Point out to your client that it can be dangerous (or to yourself – if you like a chat) and try and put paving or another hard landscaping material at the point of exit and entry. Decking is still the best material for going over the top of a difficult surface when it’s too expensive to excavate below the damp proof course and lay a new paved surface.

2008 is supposed to be a difficult year financially for all of us. Getting the garden done may not be a priority, but amidst all the doom and gloom somewhere lovely to escape in the evenings might be just the ticket.

If you want an idea of what can be done and how much it might cost, do please call. Appointments are free and good fun!

Plants

Alpines
Alpines are such hardy little plants in their natural environment. They grow on the sides of mountain in very chilly conditions. Nature, as we know, is absolutely wonderful, but how these wonderful plants suddenly emerge in spring after being covered in snow all winter must be one of the great miracles. The key thing with these plants is that they grow on the SIDE of the mountain. This means that any moisture just whizzes past them. It doesn’t settle around their roots and they never get the chance to sit there with their feet in a bucket of water. They grow in scree – which is bits of rock that’s slid down the mountain or broken up at the surface, and created areas of stony ground. The alpines put their roots down into this inhospitable ground and grow away. Some of the most beautiful plants are alpines. The alpine house at Wisley was always a favourite of mine in the winter. To see such perfectly formed flowers in miniature! One day I would like to have an alpine bed dedicated entirely to these lovely plants. They are often grown in an old sink, or a special container. They need to grow in a very free draining soil and you can buy special alpine grit for this purpose. Some are better than others at growing in ‘normal’ soil. There are good websites on how to create an alpine, or rock, garden. If you can view the plants at close quarters so much the better. Taking time to look and wonder at such small marvels is better for you than any trip to the sales.

Things to do

Books for the soul
Book vouchers and the like: did you get money or book tokens for Christmas? If so, lucky you! I always think that book vouchers are one of the nicest presents I can ever get. My mum says she doesn’t like buying vouchers, as it doesn’t seem like a proper present; to me it’s not a voucher, but somebody treating me to a whole afternoon in a bookshop. Come some rainy Sunday I can think to myself: “Oooh I‘ve got vouchers to spend!” and off I can go to the best bookshop I can find. As you can imagine, I have hundreds of gardening books, but that doesn’t stop me getting excited about a new one. There’s always something to learn and you can start off generalising with plants and then get on to specialist and specific plants when you’re hooked. My favourite gardening books of all time are the ones by Rosemary Verey and Christopher Lloyd. Christopher was irreverent and very funny. I remember visiting his garden and wanting to buy a special plant from him. He took me up the garden with a spade and fork and we dug it up there and then. A year at Great Dixter was one of my first books and I still love it today. Rosemary was also great at encouraging young enthusiastic gardeners (it was me once) and her English Country Garden and The Garden in Winter are wonderful too. Add to this Gardening at Sissinghurst, by Tony Lord and The Small Garden by John Brookes; and The Making of a Garden by Deborah Kellaway. I remember my passion first kindled by these wonderful gardeners; I hope they can do the same for you.

City & Country Gardens
For all the things in your garden – talk to us!
01273 202115 / 01903 892285
www.city-gardens.net

The Landlady

Just before Christmas, I completed a radio advertising job, which ended up paying far more than I expected. I decided to use some of the proceeds to treat my loved ones to rather extravagant Christmas presents and, in fact, I am not one for Christmas opulence and usually show my appreciation of the kids by shouting at them to empty the dishwasher, etc… so they were rather surprised on Christmas Day to see that Mrs Scrooge had loosened the grip on her purse strings.

The Boyfriend too was treated to a variety of gifts, one of which was hideously expensive coffee, which had been regurgitated by a weasel, apparently. I had the rather unappealing choice of the weasel coffee or one that had been excreted by a civet. You may think I’m talking crap (sic), but The Boyfriend, who is expert in most things you put in your mouth (in an alimentary way), told me that he really wanted to try a Sumatran coffee, which had been excreted by dung beetles. I thought he was having me on and – remembering a time in my youth when I was sent out for ‘tartan paint’ and a ‘long weight’ – approached the lady in the Algerian Coffee specialist in London with caution. After all that I have to say, I’ve never seen anyone so pleased to receive a small packet of weasel vomit for Christmas.

“The Boyfriend really wanted to try a Sumatran coffee which had been excreted by dung beetles”

My Italian lodger is due back – hopefully with a vacuum cleaner stuffed with Puglian delicacies – and therefore the peace at Landlady Towers will soon be shattered once more. I am just hoping that over the Christmas break, my lodger has lost his rather annoying tendency of following me around everywhere and virtually sitting on my lap in the living room. Mind you, I may be a little more charitable towards him now he’s been away for three weeks.

I am still having problems with the purchase of the freehold in Hastings. You may remember that we were going to go ahead and buy it without a valuation, then, at the 11th hour, one of the lessees decided we should get a formal valuation before proceeding. Typically, this lessee had remained totally silent and uninvolved until it was too late. Now, I am engaged in the tedious business of gathering everyone’s leases together and collecting the money for the valuation, which is proving to be a mammoth task. How hard is it to put a cheque in an envelope? Nigh on impossible, it would seem, and, naturally, the very man who is insisting on a formal valuation is the last person to send his lease copy and cheque. Bah!

I’ve only ever bought one freehold soley for myself – that was about six years ago, as it came with a flat and no one else wanted it at the time. I’ve since sold the flat, but kept the freehold and now the lessees wish to purchase. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but whenever I’ve purchased a freehold, I have always got a formal valuation, but ended up paying what the freeholder asked for – usually about 10% more to save the hassle of going to court. I am not greedy, but would like them to pay what the freehold is worth. The lessees however, beg to differ and seem to think that they should be paying approximately half of the true value. With The Boyfriend’s taste in coffee, I think they might have a fight on their hands.

Andrew Kay on the dangers of being the oldest swinger in town

I’m 51 and hurtling towards 52. Not that it stops me doing what I want. For the last few months I have thrown myself into being out and about. I have been going to concerts. A fair amount of classical stuff but to this I have added a massive slab of pop and rock. I know, I should know better.

Live music attracts the oddest audiences. At Viva Diva I was in the youngest quarter of the sell out show. It was grey hair central. I sat very comfortably amongst them. A week before it was Motorhead and Alice Cooper. I looked like I was at the wrong event. Bikers have their own way of growing old – disgracefully. How they rocked in their ancient denims and raggedy leathers, many of them with mini-me offspring at their sides in matching clobber. There two more unifying traits, older bikers are either emaciated or morbidly obese – no in between.

‘‘Older bikers are either emaciated or morbidly obese – no in between’’

Mad Mica mustered another mob, this time kiddies and parents. It was rather sweet until the bimboy started to swear. The air prickled. Odd as parents had elected to buy tickets for their kids to watch this strange sexual creature thrust and grind his way through the vigours of a sexually charged set. What more damage could the odd eff word do?

Mica also attracted mad people. One seemed hell bent on winding me up. She danced at me, bumping into me and giggling wildly. I moved away, but she was having none of it. She merely danced at me with more momentum gathering speed as she hurtled through the crowd, hitting me full on then swiveling and looking up at me like a demented jackal. I politely asked her not to and she wobbled back to her crowd. No doubt she thought I was a kill joy. Had she been called Joy and had she continued the name might have been appropriate.

The ultimate experience came at the O2 Arena. What a place, so steep, the upper reaches require crampons and oxygen. I took my seat and was overcome by the tangible whiff of the hormone patch. The audience was made up of women of a certain age. Behind us a row of matrons in too tight (and too young) tops ranted away. They shouted so much it was hard to see why they had come. One repeatedly yelled in my ear “Come on misty boy” as if egging on a nag at the races. Normally I am very vocal when offended by people who spoil my enjoyment. When I shush, people know exactly what I mean. But we were a row below these monsters, on the O2′s upper escarpments – and they had so many advantages – height, weight and lager. They were drinking pints faster than I could throw one on the floor.

So what pop event could attracts these ghoulish girly gollums? Take That of course. Fortunately the utterly charming mancy scallwags have grown in every way and their breathtaking show managed to surpass the primal screaming of the mad bitches in the row behind.