Ask just about any Neighbours fan when the soap’s golden era was, and they’ll get all misty eyed as they reminisce about that first flush of mainstream success the show enjoyed in the late 80s.

Some might even fondly remember Jim dying while upending a bowl of fruit, one solitary orange falling onto his limp torso (just me then).

But I actually think the real golden era of Neighbours came a few years later, about 1994 to 1996 in UK terms, when Neighbours was still pretty big but already way past its peak, no longer pumping out future pop stars and instead beginning the slow descent into unfeasible suburban banality with aplomb. Just look at these credits and see how warm they make you feel.

This was the era of truly ridiculous Neighbours, where a man could go from school janitor to head of an international hotel corporation in an instant (Phil Martin), where a man’s grief over his wife’s death led to full blown alcoholism in about a day and was cured a day later (Phil Martin), where a man could live a mysterious double life as a leading author of romantic novels under a female alias (Phil Martin) and start a barbershop quartet in his newsagent (yep, Phil Martin).

Religious conversions, bizarre cults, lame teen rebellion and secret pasta sauce recipes; Neighbours wanted to be sensational but it was always just silly instead.

But who were the memorable characters in this forgotten era?

Colin Taylor (and twin brother Alf):

Came into the show working in Phil’s newsagent, which was a natural career progression for Phil after running Lassiters. Colin was pompous and irritating, a pastiche of a middle class bore who looked a lot like a paedophile. Colin actor Frank Bren also played his identical twin Alf, the more go-getting, handsome one, who turned out to be gay.

Vikram Chatterji:

It’s a dubious testament to Neighbours’ multiculturalism that this bitpart Hindu character, who also worked in Phil’s newsagent (the Westfield of Erinsborough), was probably Neighbours’ most rounded ever ethnic character. Nevertheless, he didn’t do much more than perform in Phil’s barbershop quartet and have a few fish out of water misunderstandings that might have made it into Short Circuit 2.

Michael Martin:

Played by one of Pugwall’s band, Michael Martin was nothing short of pure evil, playing the angelic son on his return from boarding school, while simultaneously turning hated stepmum (and weird guilty pleasure) Julie into an alcoholic, and convincing everyone she had gone mad. Michael was one of Neighbours’ few convincing bad guys, who probably arbitrarily converted to being good at a later date (can’t remember).

Luke Handley:

Luke was actually a total dweeb who postured around the soap doing nothing, living in that weird house all the young randoms seem to be put in when they don’t know what else to do with them. Luke had a cancer scare but even that didn’t make him interesting. His only decent moment was when he ‘haunted’ the recreation centre, on a secret return from his apparent new life in Japan. Appearing at the end of an episode, when the haunting was supposed to be terrifying us, Luke stood on the roof of the rec’s old open top bus and smoked a cigar nonchalantly, for no apparent reason.

Mark Gottlieb:

Joined the soap pretending to be a French chef to get a job at the coffee shop, Marcel Amadeu “a votre service”. Mark had a religious conversion after nearly been killed by a kitchen knife accident, and in the end jilted strumpet Annalise to become a priest. He also changed the name of the café to The Holy Roll.

Wayne Duncan: The aforementioned Wayne was a hunky teacher at Erinsborough High, who was notable for having a top lip that never moved when he spoke. This always made you think of that other long haired titan of the era, Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder.

Debbie Martin:

One word: eyebrows

Lou Carpenter:

Lou is still in Neighbours now, doing nothing and wearing a tea towel over his shoulder, a sad, overweight shadow of his former self. When Lou first arrived he was an Australian Burt Reynolds, all cigars and smarm and charm. He dated Madge and was revealed to have been the school bully who made Harold Bishop’s life hell, prompting the end of his amnesia as he suddenly recalled Lou calling him “jelly belly”. Also noteworthy for looking exactly like Hoggle from Labyrinth.

But the creepiest thing of all about early Lou was that he dated…

Annalise Hartman:

Annalise arrived as Lou’s slutty schoolgirl girlfriend and was an immediate hit, for obvious reasons. Over the years she dated a lot of characters and got everyone a little hot and steamy under the collar, in Erinsborough and at home. One episode featured a wacky Ramsay Street party where all the characters had to go as each other, which seemed to have been included just to get Annalise into Hannah’s tight school uniform. To whoever it was who sorted that out, I salute you.

Jo Hartman:

Annalise’s mental, annoying sister had really strange facial features and once lived under her desk in Lassiters, like George Costanza in Seinfeld. Later got her baps out in Loaded and was surprisingly attractive.

Karl Kennedy:

Young, handsome, dynamic; Karl had it all. They first introduced Karl’s wacky nature through Karl hiding garden gnomes from elderly Marlene. Karl was that kind of creepy uncle who makes everyone feel uncomfortable by his overly sexual relationship with his wife Susan (whose growing physical lesbianity year on year has obviously caused a few headaches for the script writers). Karl later had an affair with sexy PA Sarah in about 1999, but he always had a mischievous glint in his eyes. A prankster, a singer, a cantankerous but cool dad, Karl was and probably still is an all round good egg.

Brett Stark:

With a cleft chin of glory and a more intelligent persona than the average Ramsay Street resident (read: geek), Brett was old beyond his years. With naughty twin Dani, the two were like the ying and yang of youth, with boring Brett constantly getting pulled into trouble by his sister. Brett lusted after Libby Kennedy but announced that she kissed like a wet fish, and then had not one but two kind of creepy non-sexual relationships with older women – first Helen Daniels, who he practiced tai chi with, and then the far more attractive Susan Kennedy, who he seemed to spend about a month with in Africa, in one of the soap’s most pointless ever storylines.

Phil Martin:

Phil was a behemoth of mid 90s Neighbours. He was played by Ian Rawlings, who just five years earlier had glowered with raw sexual energy as Sons and Daughters’ bad boy Wayne Hamilton. Well, those five years must have been pretty tough and involved a lot of comfort eating, because by the time Phil arrived in Neighbours with his annoying wife Julie and even more annoying daughters Hannah and Debbie, he looked fat, balding and very cuddly. As already mentioned, Phil’s career took many strange twists and turns, from janitor to CEO to newsagent to romance novelist (Philippa Martinez), garage owner and many more. Phil was genial and amiable and a bit of a comedy character, as evidenced by storylines based around him trying to lose weight in a bacofoil tracksuit.

However, to make his character edgier he was once caught up in a road rage incident that made no sense. Good old Neighbours, and its total lack of sensible character development.

This ws a guest blog by the worryingly encyclopaedic Matthew Clifton from Dark Beige. We’re as scared of him as you are.

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It’s been announced that Ian Smith, the actor who plays Harold Bishop, is leaving Neighbours in October – and probably forever this time too, not swanning back in five years later because he spuriously only got amnesia instead of dying forever like everyone thought. Probably.

It’s upsetting to think that an ironic cultural touchstone such as Harold Bishop is really leaving Neighbours. The news has been such a shock to our systems that it even briefly reminded us that Neighbours was still actually on TV. We know – that’s how much of a shock it was.

If you want to be famous, go on Neighbours. It’s worked for Kylie Minogue, Jason Donovan, Natalie Imbruglia, Holly Valance, Jim Robinson, that bloke out of LA Confidential and countless others, but perhaps none more so than Harold Bishop.

True, Harold Bishop might not have achieved the same level of superstardom as the others, but in terms of sheer playground taunts he inspired the man is legendary. For instance:

*If you were fat enough to be called ‘Jelly Belly’, it was because of Harold Bishop.

*If you were ever mocked for power-walking or playing the tuba, it was because of Harold Bishop.

*If you’ve ever seen your daughter get shot to death because a hunter accidentally mistook her for a duck, it was because of Harold Bishop.

*If you’ve ever strangled Paul Robinson into unconsciousness with your bare hands, it’s because you’re a maniac who can somehow tangibly injure fictional characters, but it was also probably because of Harold Bishop a bit as well.

But now it’s time for Harold Bishop to move on, and only about six months after Neighbours moved to Channel Five and everyone stopped watching, too. The Times reports:

Channel 10 was quick to make clear that the well-meaning but bumbling Harold, who started off his long run on the show in 1987 by falling in love with Madge Ramsay, was being written out at Smith’s request. Spokesperson Paula Lucarelli told Australian newspapers: … “It was entirely his decision. We love him and would have loved to keep him.”

According to reports, Ian Smith has had a hand in plotting out Harold Bishop’s final storyline – apparently Harold will leave Neighbours after successfully battling prostate cancer. It’s absurd to think that cancer would kill Harold, because Harold will never really leave Neighbours. He’s bound to roll up again in a few years’ time, and he’d look stupid trying to blame a second death – this time from a serious disease – on amnesia again, wouldn’t he?

So farewell Harold Bishop. What will we do without an overweight, typecast, moderately-skilled actor who’s too scared and lazy to ever try breaking out from his comfort zone and so just appears on Neighbours day in day out even though the wasted opportunities must be secretly killing him inside?

What’s that? Toadfish is still in Neighbours? Oh, OK then.

Because that's what she does you know. Christina Aguilera's neighbour said so.

Apparently Christina Aguilera and her husband enjoy nothing more than frolicking around naked in their pool, screaming and swearing and 'making sexy noises' much to the annoyance of the elderly people they live near. Nobody seems sure exactly what these sexy noises of Christina Aguilera's are, but we're willing to bet they don't involve her singing anything because, face it, that's about as sexy as listening to a walrus being kicked to death by an alcoholic.

We're no experts, but we always assumed that the life of a new mother involved zero sleep, less than zero libido, a simmering resentment for the child and father who've helped to ruin your life forever, outright jealousy at childless couples because they can go out and look nice and not have to deal with a screaming little fleshbag that does nothing but cry, put its weird little mouth all over your nipples and splutter oddly-coloured shit all over your favourite blouses the second you take their nappy off.

Turns out we were wrong, though – judging by Christina Aguilera, having a baby sounds like a blast.

Christina Aguilera's son Max The Lion was only born in January, but that apparently hasn't stopped Christina and her husband Bratman from twatting around in the garden of their mansion naked making a range of noises that all sound like Maria Sharapova putting her hand in an industrial mincer. According to Star:

The new parents are so determined to keep their two-year marriage red-hot that they've taken to skinny-dipping by moonlight. The couple, who welcomed son Max into the family on Jan. 12, can be heard loudly frolicking in the pool of their $11.5 million Beverly Hills mansion around midnight. "They don't just splash around — they laugh, scream, swear and make sexy noises," says a source. "We're happy that they're happy, but we wish they'd keep it down a bit. There are a lot of old people who live around here, and they don't like noise after the dinner hour."

We have to agree here, Christina Aguilera tearing around naked making deafening sex noises is fine, but after the dinner hour? That's just beyond the pale, it really is.

Of course, you could argue that Christina Aguilera is just doing her best to keep her marriage alive during a time when the physical side of relationship traditionally sags a little, but won't someone please think of the baby here?

Everyone already thinks that Christina Aguilera's baby is a pointless little wanker – your words, not ours – as it is. Fast forward a couple of years to when baby Max starts school and he's going to be known as the kid with the naked mother who bellows sex noises at midnight as well. And that's a horrific burden for a kid to carry at school. But you probably knew that from experience already.

Yes, you.

Read more: 

Christina Aguilera's Sexy Skinny-Dipping Sessions - Star 

But now Jane Seymour's Somerset neighbours won't have to put up with it any longer because – following endless complaints and protests and bitching about all the noise constantly being blasted out of her country mansion, Jane Seymour has relented and decided to sell up. It's a perfect conclusion for the locals, really, for two reasons. Firstly, whoever buys the mansion won't be so quick to let Radiohead record albums there – which will probably halve the suicides in Bath in one fell swoop – plus it will give them more time to pick on the second-loudest Bath resident, a particularly flatulent bank vole called Ethel. 

Jane Seymour's year has been all ups and downs. She's had to endure the tragic death of her mother and then, if that wasn't bad enough, she was beaten at dancing by a woman who can't even stand up. And now Jane Seymour is being forced to sell her country mansion by angry locals – all she needs now is for a dirt-faced cockney urchin to kick her in the shins and tell her that Benny and Barney: Las Vegas Undercover was rubbish and that's 2007 well and truly effed for her.

But back to the mansion bit. You may remember that residents of Bath got the hump with Jane Seymour in the summer because she applied for a 24-hour alcohol and entertainment license for her Grade-I listed St Catherine's Court mansion, and then did nothing but churn out all-night noisy drunken disco parties as a result.

It was especially galling for the locals because not only did Jane Seymour spend most of her time in Malibu, meaning that she was effectively letting strangers irresponsibly ruin the peace and quiet, but the noise also shattered the concentration level of each of the participants in the recent Bath And Wells 'Why Immigrants Should Be Burnt' foxhunt and chili cook-off.

But no longer, because Jane Seymour has decided that she's had enough of listening to indignant yokels howling angrily at her and has sold the mansion. According to her estate manager, Jane Seymour and her husband have already sold the house to a mystery buyer. Fingers crossed that it's either Amy Winehouse or that fat woman from Wife Swap, because we'd hate to think of the residents having nothing to get red-faced and uptight about.

But at least this proves that people power is alive and well, and that even the noisiest of neighbours can be moved on by a sustained attack. See, people living close to Kate Moss? We won't give up on you yet.

Read more:

Jane Sells Mansions After Rows – Metro 

Now that it finally looks as if even Kate Moss and Pete Doherty have joined the rest of the world in not caring about the status of their relationship, Kate Moss has moved out of the home they shared together and into the mansion belonging to her friend Davinia Taylor, who was in Hollyoaks for a fraction of a second over a decade ago. Anyway, it seems like all Kate Moss and Davinia Taylor want to do is party all the time like a couple of hen-night pikeys in some grotty provincial town on 50p vodka-shot night, but Kate Moss' new neighbours don't share their enthusiasm. They're so furious that they want to get the police and the government involved and stuff.

Thanks to Kate Moss' new TopShop range – and the obligatory window-sized posters of Kate Moss staring off vacantly into the middle-distance like she's trying to work out basic arithmetic that go with it – we can't walk past a branch of the store without thinking that Kate Moss is our giant, vacant, two-dimensional neighbour. And that alone is a terrifying thought – so imagine what really living next to Kate Moss must actually be like.

Even though it might appear to be a blessing that Kate Moss doesn't live with Pete Doherty any more – at least the place doesn't smell like blocked drains or sound like this bloody awful noise – now Kate Moss has moved in with toilet-roll heiress and one-time actress Davinia Taylor, things have only got worse for her neighbours.

Apparently Kate Moss and Davinia Taylor like to use their St John's Wood mansion to kid themselves that they're young again, by listening to loud music and singing and having guests like Liam Gallagher over at all hours. And even though you'd think that the natural reaction to seeing Liam Gallagher, Kate Moss and Davinia Taylor titting around together in St John's Wood would be to rub your eyes and wonder if you've fallen asleep and woken up in 1996, it seems that local residents haven't been doing that at all.

In fact, local residents are so angry with Kate Moss' parties that we'd almost feel sorry for them if only they didn't live in St John's Wood and were therefore all bastards. Like this one, 61-year-old Diane Macintosh, who told reporters:

"I don't want anything to do with them. Since they have come it has been impossible to live here. Everybody has been complaining, especially those with children. I can assure you everyone on this street is angry. I have written to the MP and to the police – everyone I can think of. It has been absolute hell since they came over. They sleep all day and go out all night. My son is going to write them a letter explaining the trouble they have caused."

Quite right too – and we're sure that the day Kate Moss learns to read she'll immediately see the error of her ways and calm down.

However, a noisy neighbour is a noisy neighbour – and the best way to fight fire is with more fire – so perhaps the residents on St John's Wood should start thinking about making a din of their own when Kate Moss is trying to sleep to see how she likes it. So if you're in the area one day and you hear a bunch of deafening harpsichord music or people making grilled halloumi cous-cous tagines really loudly, then you know it's just the good people of St John's Wood fighting back.