Unreasonable

We live in a hundred year old house that was converted into two flats (one on each of the two floors) about 10 years ago. It's great because we get high ceilings, and access to our own bit of garden, and some gorgeous original period features. Beautiful windows that let in lots of light and alcoves either side of the chimney breast. But it's rubbish because it isn't purpose built, so the sound-proofing is pretty much non-existant. The person who carried out the conversion obviously did not give a shit about helping the occupants of the two flats live peacefully in such close proximity. Downstairs have beautiful original wooden flooring, but combined with the high ceilings, open fireplaces and their lack of soft furnishings, we can hear 99% of what goes on in their home. When we're busy during the day, this isn't really an issue. (Aside from a couple of occasions of unusually loud reggae music, but thankfully that's been few and far between). However, like most young couples, their lives would appear to revolve around the evenings and weekends. Their kitchen is directly below our bedroom, and while I'm trying to help Pearl go to sleep, we can hear them chopping their food, talking, moving pots and pans, getting things out of the cupboard, even hear their boiler clunking as they use the hot tap. We hear them walking up and down the hallway, shouting down the length of the flat to each other, moving chairs at the table. The other night I lay in bed at 2.30am listening to the only slightly dampened sound of their television. The male neighbour has got such a deep booming voice, it sounds like he's speaking in a bloody megaphone. If he laughs or speaks loudly it wakes Pearl with a start.

We share a communal entrance hallway (about 1m wide by 2m long), which contains both of our front doors and the main front door to the outside world. Because of where these doors are, we have the stairs to our home actually within our own front door. Somehow, anything they cook or have within their flat that has any odour, manages to waft up our stairs and make our whole flat smell like whatever they've been using/eating/doing. Today that smell was marijuana. I got home from a frantic shopping trip with Pearl, during which she'd spent the whole time doing that back-arching tantrum thing because I hadn't let her bite into a raw onion ("Pah [Pearl speak for apple]?" "No Pearl, onion". "PAH!" "Bubba, it's an onion, look here's an apple!" "MmmmmNO Mama, PAH!" etc). I was laden with shopping bags and the nappy bag and a wriggling Pearl, trying to open the front door in the dark, and the last thing I wanted to do was come back to a home that stank like it had been hot boxed by some teenage stoners. Blergh. I've never smelt it before from them, so I really hope it's just a one off. I don't have a problem with people smoking weed, but it's just not something I do, particularly with a small child in the house.

Anyway. I'm sure they hear everything we do as well, particularly lil' Miss stompy pants. All her monster impressions must annoy the hell out of them - she may be tiny but she makes the floor shake when she runs up and down the hallway. And the other morning she was hitting her hammer and peg toy ten to the dozen, probably long before they had to be awake. How very considerate of her, hah! I'm sure they have no idea how much of their lives we can hear, and I'd probably be embarrassed if I knew how much they could hear of us. Still, annoying none the less, to have Pearl's sleep so unnecessarily disrupted every single evening.

All I know is that if we ever have the money to move, I want somewhere detached. No stinky noisy neighbour worries in my future, please.