One fire door too many

I'm interrupting my property history with news of my latest excursion to view. It was yesterday, Saturday 30th April and the Northern Line was only going as far as Archway and I needed the far end of East Finchley high street just before it joins the North Circular.

I had sore feet, as I am on cat-sitting duty in Camden for a week and have brought the wrong shoes. I walked to the nearest bus stop, caught the 46 bus to Kentish Town, then the 134 to Archway. The traffic was terrible. My appointment with the agent was at 3.30 pm and it was 3.10 by the time I reached Archway. I had 10 minutes to wait for the 263, but it steamed along and obviously got ahead of schedule because, just before it reached E. Finchley station, it stopped. For ages. I rang the agents and said I might be a little late and was told the agent I was meeting would be there till 3.45.

I was fuming and fretting and also needed the loo. Eventually, the bus chugged off again, though I was losing the will to live. It was 3.35.I had left my friend's house at 2.15. At 3.44 I leapt off the bus, raced across the road, read the sign to flats 35-46 and found myself trekking up a wide metal external staircase. I counted the numbers on the doors: 35, 36, 37, 38, 41. Where was flat number 40, the one I supposed to be viewing?

I clanged back down the metal staircase. A woman was getting into a car so I hailed her and she told me she thought it was up the stairs and through the fire door. So back I clanged, found a small turning with a fire door, pushed with all my might and it didn't budge.

Gathering my strength, I hurled myself at it and it gave a little and I squeezed through. There was only one way to go - through another heavy fire door. This time I leaned all my weight on it - I'm 5'4", 71 years old and weight 9 and half stone! I should not be heaving heavy fire doors open, I thought as I climbed yet another staircase - a stone one this time.

At last, I found number 40 and rang the bell. The agent, resplendent in shiny grey suit and gelled hair, was showing a couple round. I was left to my own devices. The flat was big enough. It had plenty of cupboards. One window had a nice view over greenery. The others looked over the grim rear of the tallest part of this local authority block.

They say you know whether you want to buy a place or not within the first 15 seconds. I had made my decision after the metal stairs and first fire door. No way!

The young agent told me he was hoping to buy his first property and was praying for a price crash. Him and me both!