I'VE got myself into a bit of a predicament. My neighbours – as pleasant and lovely as they are – are quite simply driving me mad. And I've started obsessing about it from the moment I put the key in my front door until I leave my Victorian tenement flat.
You see, I can hear them. I can hear everything. And I mean everything. I know when my neighbours in the flat upstairs are getting up from the sofa to go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I can even hear them making that cup of tea. I can hear th
em doing their fitness DVD on a Sunday afternoon – and I even know exactly what moves they are doing.
I can hear their little girl coming home excitedly from school, running around (in her tap dancing shoes) and practising her dance routines. I can hear them in the bathroom, in the hallway. I can even hear them in the bedroom.
Next door is much the same. I know one of the couples always row . . . and I know what over. Personally, I am on her side over that one. And I also know the other flat on my floor like to listen to club anthems from the 90s and are huge fans of Big Brother.
My doors now bang about because of movement, my furniture vibrates and, when I'm on my own late at night, I panic thinking the noise is actually an intruder, not a neighbour's late-night bathroom visit.
But it's not as if they are loud, nor are they indiscreet. And, if I was to tap on their door to tell them, they'd probably wonder why the heck I hadn't told them sooner . . . and what exactly I had overheard.
You see, in the past few months my new neighbours have all done the same thing – they've ripped up their carpets, brought in the professionals and given themselves laminated flooring or stripped boards. And the effect is unbelievable.
Every sound, every conversation, every footstep and worse – the constant running around of kids. Who needs an alarm clock when you have an electric shower firing up every morning at 6.50am or a child with an enviable amount of energy?
After zero lie-ins at the weekend and months of moaning throwing filthy looks to walls and ceilings, I rang a surveyor friend of mine to find out just what the problem was. Surely, they must have taken up more than carpets for such a sound change?
It seems those beloved carpets don't just keep our feet cosy – they act as insulation, too.
Remove that and noise from above comes down the way. Then the shared floorboards also mean that sound travels all around easier. And there's also the fact that it is an old tenement building, which is often neglected.
"The ideal thing is to put down sound insulation under the boards," said my friend. "But it's a hassle and can be expensive. You could always sell them some rugs."
And so, there's nothing they or I can do, short of resort to sound-proofing (or ear plugs) and gifting them homemade, bespoke carpet slippers.
But I suppose it could be worse. A lot worse. With my love of high heels, cheesy dance music, Friends re-runs and constant room re-arranging – just think about my poor neighbour below me. Er, and those at either side.
The full article contains 577 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
