Reception counters and desks in Munster Village

Yes. Munster Village is on the patch, and the postcodes we work here are SW6. It is worked on our west London run, along with the rest of Hammersmith and Fulham. A free-parking street with cars both sides can still leave the van forty metres away, and that distance is carry, not driving. Loading bays belonging to the building are booked by whoever holds the lease, and that is seldom whoever ordered the counter. Nothing is stood anywhere on a pavement it could be knocked from. Both visits happen in your kitchen, the template and the fit, so there is nothing to visit and nothing to collect.

A small room puts the sink, hob and tap cut-outs close together on one short length, and the bridge of stone left between them decides whether it can be cut in one piece. The commercial work around housing of this age is shopfront: a narrow unit off a high-street parade, entered up a step, with the reception running back from the door into the depth of the plan. The lobby was finished by somebody else, and the counter joins it. A run can measure dead right at both ends and still belly out in the middle, which only appears once the template plots the intermediate points. A counter is worse off than a kitchen here, because it usually stands clear of the wall and has nothing behind it to hide a gap. A packer belongs under the joinery, never under the counter.

The top step is rarely the end of it, because a door swinging out onto the landing has to be held back before a piece can come off the flight. A counter top is one long piece with no run of cabinets to break it, so the route decides the join count before the sightlines get a vote. Piece length is capped in the drawing office, not on the landing. Where the van can pull up level with the gate the pieces are handled the fewest times, which is what actually protects them. The upper counter is the longest piece on the van, so the tail lift needs the full swing radius clear on the pavement. A height barrier rules out the tail lift before it rules out anything else.

Honestly, no, though it would be easy to claim otherwise. What the research on this patch actually lists is worktop replacement, worktop splashbacks & upstands and worktop installation. That says something about the housing round here, not about the work. Quote, cut and fit are the same here as on any other part of the patch. In a converted house the flat entrance and the internal doorway are usually tighter than the communal stairs, and that is easy to overlook. Counters are nearly always one-offs, so the saving that comes from repeating a specification is not usually on the table here. Several desks off one slab run, or they will not match. Party-wall and lease conditions in a converted building set when noisy work can happen, which shapes the fitting day more than the kitchen does. Where an operator is fitting out several receptions, the counters come off one slab run so the desks read as a set rather than as neighbours. The counter is the last trade in and the first thing judged.

Two runs of similar length nest as a pair off one slab, and if one of them grows by a few hundred millimetres the pair stops fitting and the yield changes for both. A counter has the same argument in miniature: a straight run nests kindly on a slab, and every return costs yield. Overhang at the public face is agreed before the carcass is built. Reckon on £110 to £550 per square metre for the material supply only, with templating, fabrication and fitting itemised separately.

Where a corner is a couple of degrees off, a mitre cut to a theoretical ninety degrees opens on the wall side and there is no closing it afterwards. A lobby wall that leans shows itself along the back return, so that edge is cut to the line the wall actually takes. What the joiner left behind is what the templater records. Send photographs taken walking from the pavement through the door to where the counter will stand, along with the carcass dimensions once the joiner has fixed it. Flats bought out of managed stock keep the original kitchen dimensions long after the ownership changed, so the layout says very little about who is paying for the work. The same split runs through commercial property: a landlord fitting out a shell and a tenant fitting out their own reception want different things from one counter. A desk in a re-let space is specified for the next occupier too.

What you get is a line rather than a step, because the pieces are levelled to each other first. A join cannot cross a cut-out, so a sink mid-run takes away the position you would have used. A mitred join at a corner is a different job from a butt join along a run, and they are not priced the same. Where the aisle is too tight the usual answer is a reduced-depth top on one side, and a 500mm run is a different cut, a different sink and a different drainer to a 600mm one. The return between the high counter and the low shelf never nests neatly, and it is what decides how much slab the desk swallows. A join in the shelf and a join in the top belong in one place.

Granite tells you when the seal wants topping up: water stops beading on the surface and starts darkening it instead. A seal is not waterproofing. It only buys time to wipe a spill up. Granite is porous to varying degrees, so it is sealed when we fit it and topped up over the life of the worktop. There is no back addition on these, so the kitchen is the original rear room and the run is one wall long with a door at each end of it. A front room converted into a surgery or a salon gives a small lobby and a counter that still has to leave width for people to get past it. A parade unit is entered up a step nobody thought to measure.

Plumbing, gas and electrical work are not in the figure, because we do not do them. Every run, cut-out, edge, join and groove set is a line, which is what makes it comparable with anyone else’s. Two kitchens the same length can be far apart, because material, edge and cut-outs move independently of size. The stone carries the scribe because the wall cannot be persuaded, so back edges are cut oversize and eased in rather than dropped straight down. Where the floor falls away across a lobby the carcass is packed level first, because the top cannot correct anything sitting under it. A bowed lobby wall is a scribe, and a scribe takes hours.

A full-height piece behind the hob has to allow for the extractor, so that gets settled first. What decides between them is usually the wall: what it is built of, how flat it is, and where the sockets ended up. Ordered later from a different batch, the match is not reliable where the two pieces meet. That rear wall carries the back door and the only window, which leaves very little uninterrupted length for a sink run. These parades have a step up off the pavement and a door that was never sized for a counter top, so the shopfront caps the piece length. Where the hall is tall, the light finds every seam in the counter.