Inside or outside, public or private, there simply is not much space on these estates. One is invariably woken up each morning by a dawn chorus of dog owners, all desperately cajoling their badly-trained pets to get a move on, so they can go to work. Despite the cliches about the anonymity of these over grown 'rabbit hutches', M Bazac-Billaut concludes, the quality of life on panelak estates is, in fact, often better than it might first appear. People generally do have some idea who their neighbours are. Social networks do exist.
Public transport does run regularly.
Fresh air and the closeness of some form of countryside are some compensation for a lack of facilities at hand. Despite this, a major finding of M. Bazac-Billaut's research is that panelak life is based on a intense drive for privacy and individuality. To judge from the crime reports in the Czech papers, disputes between panelak neighbours seem to be relatively rare, although personally, I am surprised that more enthusiastic weekend handymen are not battered by their outraged neighbours. It is a source of bafflement, and occasionally murderous rage, to me, why, for example, Mr Novak, the inoffensive-looking young engineer upstairs, seems intent on noisily transforming his 50 metre square fifth floor flat into something resembling a log cabin. Despite the snobbery of wanna-be yuppies, it would be wrong to think that all Czechs utterly and unreservedly hate their panelak .