I'm at war with my neighbour: I hate their outdoor kitchen and the billowing smoke from their BBQ makes sunny days a living nightmare. This is the annoying thing I'm doing to fight back..
. By Anonymous Published: 12:00 EDT, 21 July 2024 | Updated: 12:00 EDT, 21 July 2024 e-mail View comments Am I the only person in the entire country to wish it would start raining again? Alas, last week's sunshine found me hermetically sealed inside my home, cursing the day three years ago my neighbours lost their civic mindedness and bought a lavish outdoor kitchen. And when I say lavish, I really mean it.
Garden wine fridge, rotisserie grill, pizza oven, prepping bench, sink, and of course BBQ so big you could do woolly mammoth skewers on it. I'd find the whole thing highly impressive..
.were it not installed mere inches from our shared fence. Yet there it is – billowing clouds of smoke over to our side night-after-night as though the entire patio is on fire.
I don't want to sound flippant. Because the truth is that I'm bloody livid. It's all the fault of a few recent heatwaves and global warming , which apparently convinced my once favourite neighbours that our quiet corner in the Weald of Kent can now pass for the warmer climes of the Mediterranean.
I'm also looking at you, David Beckham , for turning my neighbours' heads. He is, after all, the poster boy for the all-singing, all-dancing luxury outdoor kitchen, with his barn-sized high-end installation. The outdoor kitchen is far more macho than the indoor version, it seems.
They're not just a status symbol for the super-rich, however. A study by comparison website Uswitch revealed outdoor kitchens are now the UK's sixth most popular home improvement - ranked between installing new windows and replacing the roof. Yet in a country as cramped as the UK, one person's dream of alfresco prepping and dining is another's living nightmare.
My living nightmare. One person's dream of alresco prepping and dining is another's living nightmare It goes on for hours – the smells, the paraffin firelighters, the booze-fuelled entertaining. At this time of the year, I realise most of us must grin and bear it with other people's socialising – but not every day as soon as the sun so much as peeps from behind a cloud.
I've been a committed vegetarian for 40 years, too – what sin have I committed in a past life to land a BBQ-crazy family next door, permanently wreathed in the whiff of their daily meat fests? Our homes are our refuge, but the simple pleasures of domestic life are seriously compromised. I used to love (quiet) lunches and sundowners on the patio. A precious afternoon spent reading a book sprawled out on our Cox & Cox Capri corner set.
Carefully tending the garden. Over the last three years, all these have been smoked out. I can't even leave the washing out to dry.
Every day our family of five - husband, teenage son and daughter, plus Tilly the Tibetan Terrier - are on high alert. Like a well-trained regiment pressed into action, each of us knows what's coming and what to do. At the first sniff of a firelighter, we do a sweep of garden belongings, then trudge inside, bringing in damp washing, garden furniture soft furnishings, our food and drinks.
Our sanity. Close all doors, shut all windows, though that doesn't seem to make a huge amount of difference to the smell. Tilly joins us as we all look forlornly outside.
I used to like my neighbours very much. We once shared the same nanny. We feed their cats when they're on holiday.
I take in their deliveries. I wheel their bins back to their bin shed on bin day. We even created our own splinter group from the street's WhatsApp to send secret eyeroll emojis to each other about other neighbours.
Yet the outdoor kitchen has ruined it all. Building it on the other side of the fence, virtually under our noses, felt like a selfish betrayal of all that is correct and proper about close quarter community living. What sin have I committed in a past life to land a BBQ-crazy family next door? 'I feel invisible and not considered,' I tell my husband.
He nods his head but mainly prefers to bury it in the proverbial sand. He's not a fan of confrontation. He's also a meat eater and once said, and meant: 'I actually like the smell of firelighters.
At least they haven't bought a hog roast spit.' My blood pressure has been steadily rising for three years, however. Every time the first charcoal bag of the summer is opened, I begin to fantasise about coming home from work to a newly erected For Sale sign at their gate and my garden becoming my sanctuary once more.
.. On the face of it, I'm all smiles and chatty friendliness.
I don't want to start all-out war and I'm trying hard to be more Zen. But there are subtle ways to make a point. For the time being, my weapon of retaliation is the radio.
When it's all quiet on the clanking, smoking outdoor kitchen front, when I know one of them is out enjoying their tranquil garden - maybe reading the papers or a book, or sunbathing - that's when I become a stealth ninja, quietly sliding open the bifold doors and commanding: 'Hey Google, play The Archers. At maximum volume.' Just let them complain.
.. David Beckham Whatsapp Share or comment on this article: I'm at war with my neighbour: I hate their outdoor kitchen and the billowing smoke from their BBQ makes sunny days a living nightmare.
This is the annoying thing I'm doing to fight back...
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