I was sad to hear of the death of actor Richard Briers recently.

Only last week I was listening to a radio show where he played – brilliantly, I should add – the comedian Tony Hancock, focusing on the troubled comic’s final hours.

And I was also a big fan of the kids’ cartoon he narrated – Roobarb – complete with that trippy, wobbly animation. Don’t make ’em like that any more, eh?

I must admit though, I was never a fan of The Good Life.

All that nice suburban humour wasn’t really my cup of tea, but it did introduce me – as a child growing up in the north of England – to this place called Surbiton, or rather a TV producer’s version of Surbiton.

I never thought years later I would be living there – although my life didn’t quite turn out to be on a par with Tom and Barbara Good’s.

I lived in Surbiton over several years and I would always laugh at the usual reaction I’d get when I told someone where I lived.

“So, where are you living?”

“Surbiton.”

“Surbiton. That’s a bit posh isn’t it?”

Yep, staring at my small bedsit wall covered in mould and my mushroom farm of a bathroom I’d say to myself “yep, I’m really living the good life here”.

I’ve never really understood the “posh” moniker – and places such as Twickenham also suffer from this. I think it’s just based on house prices and the fact Surbiton is at a comfortable distance from central London.

Apart from that it’s just like anywhere else isn’t it? A high street, a McDonalds, average pubs, a few parks and a train station.

Maybe the reason it gets the “posh” label is because it’s slightly less rubbish than everywhere else.