jonab

I'm sure its better now - it was a long time ago.

Blimey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Of course, the flat in the listing is only a quarter of the whole building (top floor, left as you look in the illustration). So we could multiply the list price by more than 4 (there is extra space on the ground floor). Not complaining, though. I think I made the right move when I did and my residence ATM is valued at much more than 4x the price of 2nd Avenue. On the picture in the link you gave, it's interesting that the white part in the middle of the property used to be a conservatory, which I had forgotten

I wonder what the price is now. I had the opportunity to buy the whole house just before I left. Asking price was £8,000. Is it listed on any of those property pricing sites? We don't see the UK ones over here.

Thanks for your response, LizzieM. I am very interested in the current situation vis-a-vis 291 M R and 2nd Avenue.

- - - continued fourth and final part - - - This is where I leave Nottingham forever. In spite of my residence at 291 being enjoyable and very memorable, all good things must come to an end. I have a lot of stories about my time there, some publishable, some not. I hope to relate a few of them on here in due course. I don’t recall the real reason for my departure but things became, let’s say, less than happy and we decided to go our separate ways. This was not just us on the first floor but the whole building. By chance, the opportunity arose to

My dogs, although of English stock, were born and brought up in France. Their experience of spoken English is almost nil except for a few swear words when they misbehave. They are quite well trained but only follow orders given to them in French. I've given up trying to learn spoken dog and they aren't very vocal in any case but I get on really well in translating their facial expressions. There must be some common language there as they both use the same expression for their same wants and needs. They are both the same breed but are otherwise unrelated.

With 30+ years in France, I have pretty much adopted a French lifestyle – including their way of eating. There are a few English things I do miss though, the main one being a decent cup of tea. The French (and most of continental Europe, I think) don't have a clue how to make tea. They use those daft little teabags on a string, dunk them into tepid water for a few seconds (until it is just faintly tinted) and that's it. When I used to commute UK – France one of the first things I craved on the plane to Heathrow was a decent cup of British Airways tea. Such was my need for this, I w

Just got back home and, d'you know what, it's raining and quite cold. The dogs greeted me as if I'd been away for years (it was only two and a half weeks). Probably they think I've brought them a big present. Will have to have a fire tonight to keep warm. Going to call it a day now. Just posting one further bit in another section and then just sitting and relaxing. Just realised why the dogs are so excitable - I've been speaking to them in English - which is a foreign language to them.

Flying back to the Côte d'Azur today after my Christmas sojourn in Surrey/Sussex* (I still maintain a property in the UK in case I ever want to return to the cold, dank dark nights, the horrible wet snow and - you know what I mean). The third and final part of my NOOB saga will come tomorrow. *The house is at the juncture of Surrey, Sussex and Hampshire. The county borders are defined by the merging of two small rivers and it is possible to stand with one leg in Surrey, one leg in Sussex and then pee into Hampshire (or any combination of those three). I can't do that as

Cliff, thanks for that. It seems the shop is in the light coloured building, centre left, second one down

In Ucknall, nits were called "dicks" and anyone with the misfortune of having them had to visit the dick nurse at the awful welfare clinic on Watnall Road. The nurse was Miss Pearson, a dragon of a woman with the bedside manner of Dracula's mother. It wasn't until some years later that "dick" was a singularly inappropriate term to use for nits.

Anyone with info about the photo/camera shop on Friar Lane - just up from Toby's. I was into the technical side of photography and processing then and this shop sold all the chemicals, including colour developing agents which were otherwise almost impossible to obtain.

I used to use the bathtubs at Victoria Baths when I lived in Sneinton Hermitage. There was a bath in the flat there but waiting for the tub to fill took an age and by the time there was enough water, it had gone cold. The tubs at Victoria baths were enormous and you could fill as high as you wanted and stay as long as you wanted as well - all for sixpence. I always took my own towel, though. Looking back, I can't think why.

9880 Hucknall Co-op Remember that from 65 years ago (or more).

Yes! Sorry, I assumed it was common terminology. It's certainly common in France but, thinking about it, I can't think what those initials might mean in French. There's only one more episode of the NOOB saga, I leave Nottingham soon afterwards but I think I have quite a lot of stuff to contribute to the forum in other ways with narratives up as far as 1978 when I moved away.

I remember the place being colloquially known as the Foot Clinic - with a deliberate miss-pronunciation of foot, or perhaps not! I remember a "herbalists" shop on Alfreton Road by the bus stop, just past Gregory Boulevard that had a similar display of "bedroom accessories"

I found this site whilst looking up Berni Inns - which led me to The Grosvenor (which I have associations with) and then directly here.

- - - continued - - - First an amendment to my post yesterday regarding the location of the flat in Mapperley. I’m thinking now it was at the top of Mapperley Road/Woodborough Road, opposite the tennis courts (I’d forgotten those). To proceed: My experiences so far of an independent existence had not been completely positive, but even so, better than the choking, coughing and spluttering on the fumes emanating from the Ucknall* pits. None of the flats I had taken was anything I would have liked to call home. Places to live/exist but they lacked a

Whilst on aircraft, I remember one of the very early flights of a Tristar flying very low over Nottingham (I worked in Gregory Boulevard at the time) on its way to Hucknall Aerodrome where I believe the RB211 engines were (at least in part) developed. Nowhere near as elegant as Concorde but a very good workhorse plane. I flew on them numerous times, usually London to Nice. I remember RB211's way before that when I lived in Hucknall and had to put up with the deafening noise of the RR engine test beds.

I was one of the extras in the film. I was collared by some of the crew when walking across Slab Square and more or less told that I was needed to take part in a film. I was then frogmarched to the lions, told to climb onto the left one and then wait. After about half an hour a camera crew appeared then some people having an argument (I assume these were the actors) and that was it. They all packed up and went. I was given ten bob (I think) and off I went as well. I don't think I was in the final cut!

- - - continued - - - Following my disastrous experiences at Newstead Grove and my total loss of respect for humanity, the next few weeks were spent dossing down at friends flats/houses. This, I understand is quite fashionable now, de rigueur in fact and called sofa surfing. Didn’t have many possessions – none, in fact, they’d all been nicked from Newstead Grove. Even my toothbrush was covered in brown deposits – I don’t like to think what that was but the brush went straight into the bin. I’m digressing. After four weeks or so of this, it just happened that

I recall Lodges (or Lodgers) hardware shop by the bus shelter and opposite (I think) the Salvation Army Citadel. There was a twitchell on the left of the shop and on the other corner of the twitchell was Dewhurst's Butchers Locks (or Lock & Morton) hardware was further up the High Street more or less opposite Boots and very near to Nellie Ricks and Cecil Bowd

This is the first part of what appears will be quite a long narrative. I'm doing it in sections so as not to have you dying of boredom or the system refusing to publish such meandering prose. I was intending to write this in my native language - ‘Ucknull’ but, to my eternal shame and chagrin, I have lost most of my knowledge of the vocabulary and grammar. Another thing is that even my “standard” English may be a bit stilted as I don’t consider English to be my first language now. More of that later, though. I came across Nottstalgia when Googling for information about B