Close your eyes. Empty your mind. Picture a whitewashed thatched cottage, rose bushes lining the manicured lawn in front of it. Oak and chestnut trees forming a lush backdrop. The sun is shining, birds are singing, all is peaceful.

Now wake up. I don't know what sort of England you live in, but that rose-tinted image isn't anything like mine, which resembles an edwardian brick terrace, built in the days of cloth-cap engineering, Cars with stereos blaring pause at the traffic lights before vibrating under their own power down the road. Lorries rumble past at three point six on the richter scale, and buses demonstrate their immunity to the Clean Air Act of 1956.

Bit of a shocker that eh? It gets worse. Late night revellers hold shouting contests in the street, while party-minded girls communicate by shrill screams and giggles. Yet despite all this, you still manage to find a few hours in the day when things are quiet enough to carry on with a tranquil and fulfilling life. Then my neighbour decides to go out for the night. Surely that would make things even quieter you ask? Nope. In order to get in the mood for boogie-ing the night away he insists on recreating the noise, the sounds, yes, even the smells, of a hard working nightclub.

When this house was built, at the height of British Empire, no-one owned electrical consumer goods and so no-one invented sound proof walls. As a result, the interior space reverberates and so if anyone makes any noise, next door can hear it. Every chuckle, conversation, snore, and moment of passion is overheard by one and all, although I suspect not all my neighbours have realised that. They certainly haven't told their girlfriends.

Once again the music impinged on my conciousness. I confess I got a tad upset. Having yelled at them to shut up I thought it was all over. Sadly not, because another of my neighbours, clearly less impressed than I was, walked out into the street and yelled abuse. That certainly cured the noise problem didn't it?

Protest of the Week

Greenpeace members have taken to roof of Parliament and demanded action on climate change. What are they expecting? Politicians to wave a magic wand and make everything better? The climate is changing. It's a huge, powerful, dynamic force in nature, and you can't stop it or put it back the way it was even if ruins your entire day.

The real trick, as demonstrated by nature for the last three or four billion years, is to roll with the punches. Adapt. Survival of the fittest is fundamental to the success of species in the wild and I suspect, probably something that will emerge in climate politics. If I were in their place, saving cash and buying property on a hilltop might be a more comfortable (and ultimately profitable) exercise. Who knows? Maybe they'll be able to afford a car in a few years...