Manor House- still a work in progress.

Manor House - still a work in progress.

At some point this century they'll finish what they started some time ago. By my reckoning it should be some time before another Labour government is elected or perhaps some time in the distant future when none of us will be around to see its completion. The nagging suspicion is that the Woodberry Down estate in Manor House is still very much a work in progress. In fact  this whole housing development just seems to go on and on but we can live in the hope that finally one day it'll be declared as well and truly done, the finished article.

Meanwhile the show goes on and what a show this is. Throughout the day we are constantly subjected to noises, clanking noises, metallic noises, grating noises that are designed to annoy us, getting on our nerves, trying our patience, outraging us and possibly tempting us to complain to the council for what seems the umpteenth time.

What we have here is a sometimes deafening cacophony, a resounding orchestra of drills, hammers, instruments of demolition and major upheaval for all concerned. The fact is that some of us have reached the end of our tether and we've had enough. There is an incessant chorus of cracking, smashing, clattering, industrial machinery that looks as if it's been lent to the workers at Woodbury Down Estate by some very kind and generous BBC film crew working on some very ambitious sci- fi series.

Realistically, the local residents around here may be resigned to their fate. There's isn't a great deal they can do about this, at times, insufferable racket apart from perhaps fold their arms, become hardened to circumstances that are completely beyond their control and just watch with anger in the hope that one day tools are downed and we can all go back to living the quiet life.

In the general scheme of things most of us would just have been extremely tolerant in the face of this relentless assault on our senses, that audio system that keeps blaring away with seemingly not a single thought or consideration for any of those families with babies or the elderly who must be up in arms.

To the fascinated onlooker this dramatic disfigurement of our landscape is not quite the sight you'd be too keen to wake up to in the morning. Finally though, the whole look and appearance of this area does look slightly more aesthetically pleasing than it might have done a couple of years ago. Those huge and thick supporting blocks of concrete have been firmly driven into the ground and the gentlemen in lime green hi viz jackets seem to be enjoying themselves.

All day long the engineers, labourers, plasterers, painters and decorators spend most of their day  outside in the late summer heat and rain, either wandering, treading gently or bending down to pick up their knives, saws, tape measures, theodolites and  mallets  as if it were second nature. They keep wandering, hovering, stopping, assessing the ground they happen to be working on and then shouting, yelling, singing and laughing. It's rather like listening to some awful music you wish you could switch off immediately.

Outside us are massive fleets of lorries who seem to be giving birth to yet more lorries. In fact there are times when our buildings remind you of one giant sized car park. Around the back from where we live, the Berkeley company responsible for this housing renaissance are clocking on and off for work. Men in yellow hard hats and high viz jackets keep coming and going as if determined to get the work finished as soon as possible.

For a number of years now this has been what it's like to witness the regrowth of a North London suburb that, although perfectly habitable, certainly looked as if it needed some tender loving care. What we didn't know though at the time of course is that some of the ageing flats were beginning to look past their sell by date. In fact the whole lot had to be flattened to make way for another generation, another age group and an entirely new set of families.

Still, it might be as well to just let them continue since this is the way of the world. We are definitely heading in the right direction and it's full steam ahead as they say in sea-going, nautical terms. It just feels as though this remarkable re-construction project is taking for ever. In 50 years time some of us may or may not be here to watch the fruits of their labours and that could be a major source of frustration.

Shortly after the Second World War a brand new housing revolution in Britain saw the rise of prefabs and soaring council flat towers that were built to last. Some perished because of their age and others were blown up by men who were given permission to do so, crumbling to the ground like a set of dominoes. How often have you seen those imposing tower blocks detonated with what seem like bomb disposal experts? A black puff of smoke billows into the air, as they tumble to the ground almost helplessly.

Anyway across the road they're still ploughing on with the Travel Lodge hotel. Yes folks we are now surrounded by hotels. Please do come to sunny Manor House on Sea although we may be hundreds of miles from any signs of sea. Apparently you can now book for Christmas should you wish to do so and the views from your hotel balcony are truly out of this world. For instance there are the eye catching red Route Master buses on their way to Wood Green, the picture postcard lorries rumbling by every second and then the cars with their sleek looking bonnets and purring engines. It's just perfect.

So there you have it folks. Just a very revealing insight into the current housing arrangements in Manor House. Why wouldn't you want to contemplate a relaxing break next to bullish bulldozers and vast winches hanging in the air before swinging effortlessly towards Finsbury Park? Ah, London suburbia at its most efficient and effective. Oh for the thoughts of that eminent architect and designer Sir Norman Foster.