In think my love of Victorian terraced houses stems from visits to my Aunt and Grandmother as a child. My grandparents moved into that house when they got married in 1916. My Father and Aunt were born in it and my Aunt still lives in it to this day. That’s over a hundred years one modest terraced house has been in the same family!
As I sit to think about it I realise that my life has been full of Victorian terraces. As a student in London I lived in three. I can still tell a good tale about the mice that got into our Camden terrace from the piano workshop next door and the frozen shampoo in our flat on Green Lane. In Brighton I rented rooms in terraced houses and house sat for a friend who had a lovely terrace house in Lewes.
The first home I bought was an end of terrace in Brighton. Like many of the terraces in the town it was constructed of the wonderful sounding bungaroosh, basically a mixture of broken bricks, pebbles held together in a hydraulic lime mixture. As far as I could tell the only thing that kept the whole thing standing was the render on the outside and woe betide you if the render got damaged and the rain got in.
Fortunately, my last two terraced homes have been rather more solid, being Edwardian brick. Both have been in the old railway town of Wolverton, on the northern edge of Milton Keynes. Wolverton has a great community spirit with lots of activities and events going on.