A tale of everyday life as lived on Britain's most expensive street

Do you dream of a lavish postcode? How about the most expensive, the most coveted and the most enviable of all of London’s elite? If you do, dream no longer, as The Sunday Times, revealed last month that the postcode in question begins with N2.

Unsurprisingly, Britain’s most expensive road is in London. To be more precise, it is on Winnington Road, located among the iconic greenery of Hampstead; home to the likes of John Keats, Sigmund Freud, Elizabeth Taylor and Helena Bonham-Carter.

With an average house price of £11,906,522, the north London suburban street is close to ‘Billionaires’ Row’, aka The Bishop’s Avenue, but it has now left it in its wake. Perhaps Winnington Road is simply living up to its name — it does, after all, include the word ‘winning’.

The Bishop’s Avenue used to be ‘the Beverly Hills of London’, says Ali Mojdeh of Martyn Gerrard estate agents in Hampstead. However, its recent increase in flats and retirement homes is to blame for its fall from favour. Winnington Road has, thus, become more in demand, amplified by the fact that, in general, ‘people don’t like to move out of Hampstead’.

Perched on the edge of the quaint village, Hampstead Garden Suburb and East Finchley, I can’t help but think that one would be winning if they lived on this very street. One particularly decadent eight-bedroom, eight-bathroom property for sale on the road, for example, is priced £24,950,000. It features an indoor swimming pool, home cinema, pool room and gym.

Another property, this one a mere six-bedroom, is up for the same price and comes with live-in staff quarters, which may be necessary to help maintain the house’s various luxury amenities, which include a sauna, steam room and guest changing rooms. It’s hardly a street for losers. And, the price of the street may be higher still, as Ali informs me that many wealthy buyers favour a discreet purchase, the likes of which will not be found on one of the property portals online.

But is the hefty price tag worth it? I had to go and see for myself.

I arrived at East Finchley station, which is, incidentally, the exact stop at which the miserable Northern Line tunnel emerges into glorious sunshine. A sign, no doubt.

There, however, my journey wasn’t over. I faced a mile-long walk to my destination. If there was a downside to Winnington Road, I wondered if the distance from the underground might be it. But no. Ali was right when he said that people that buy a house here don’t tend to use public transport.

When I arrived, virtue of my feet alone, 20 minutes later, the fleets in each driveway consisted, almost exclusively, of luxury BMWs, Range Rovers and Porsches. The recent backlash against Elon Musk seemed not to have reached the area yet, as there were also plenty of Teslas to be found. I did spot one man emerging from his Ford Fiesta at a rather grand mansion, but upon approaching him to ask about how he found living in the area, he informed that he was the property's cleaner.

This proved a common theme. In fact, I discovered on my trek along the rather long street (or rather, gradual hill) many cleaners, gardeners, building contractors and painters and decorators, but not one resident available for an interview. They must have all been admiring their meticulously-pruned hedges and sparkling cars from their living room windows. Or perhaps they were in an office somewhere, making the money necessary to finance these brigades of home-maintenance service people.

Or perhaps they were on holiday. This is another draw of the neighbourhood, Chris Fairclough, also of Martyn Gerrard, told me. Winnington Road’s quick commute time on the A1 to the nearby airports — 50 minutes by car, which, we have already established, everyone has, to Heathrow. Perfect if you’re in dire need of a break from your unbelievably nice home. Combined with being ‘literally moments from the Heath’, yet close enough to commute into central London, the location is the reason these properties are so valuable, he says. Additionally, the ‘village-feel’ of nearby Hampstead has always been popular. Central London is the draw and yet so is being able to leave it as easily as possible. An expensive paradox.

The local golf club, hidden away on the road, is another benefit, Chris said, citing ‘networking reasons’.

The road, admittedly, is lovely, but there is a sense of unease. Among the cascading wisteria and neatly pruned hedges that mark each mansions’ perimeter there are aggressive signs promising an immediate guard response if there is anything untoward detected on the 24-hour surveillance cameras. Private security officers also patrol in cars. Both day and night, I am told. I spotted several on my walk, where I was careful not to stop by each property for too long, lest I was identified as being in any way suspicious.

Aside from the occasional passing airplane and car, apart from some pleasant birdsong, the street is silent. And, litter free. That is, except from packaging which once housed a vape, a used packet of co-codamol and an empty bottle of bleach. All discarded on the pavement outside the golf club.

This aside, the area is picturesque. Glorious houses on sprawling grounds are the backdrop to manicured dogs being walked by their equally manicured owners, both looking decidedly content with their surroundings.

And then, there is the Heath. Green, bounteous, and right on the doorstep. An iconic London landmark deserving of its fame. In a city so sparsely populated by green space, it makes Winnington Road worth it in itself. If you can afford it, of course.