Is it just ME?

Or are noise obsessives losing the plot?

MUSIC floats up from the downstairs flat. Fair enough — it is Saturday night. To my astonishment, my friend G puts down her gin and hammers on my floor. ‘You need to teach them a lesson about the noise.’

‘Hang on,’ I reply. ‘I live here and I don’t mind.’

G is what I might politely term a noise obsessive. She can’t stand even hearing her neighbours shower.

Another friend complains that when her upstairs neighbour arrives home, she picks up her baby and does a little dance. So, as revenge, she cranks up her music. ‘I need to read my newspaper in peace,’ she insists. That doesn’t sound very peaceful.

Meanwhile a friend boasts he went out into the street and cut a cable to stop a noisy extractor fan. He was nearly electrocuted.

They tell their stories with

One friend cut a cable to stop a neighbour’s noisy extractor fan. He was nearly electrocuted!

triumph. But it worries me. If you decide to be upset by communal noise, you’ll drive yourself mad.

Last week it was revealed that Jools Holland wants a curfew on weddings held in the venue next to his castle, (though he got married at the venue himself).

This month a London financier won €114,000 damages from a couple with children in the flat above — complaining the sound ruined the tranquillity of her €3million apartment.

But is it possible to live a completely tranquil life in a city? When I bought a flat in a Victorian terrace, I knew I would be sharing my life with the neighbours. I’m not talking about enduring months of building work or anti-social behaviour. But you can’t completely control your environment.

Whether it’s trains or church bells, zone it out. You’ll be much happier.