City Living: Why do so many people live so close to other houses if they can afford to live away from the fray? asks Edel Morgan

An early memory of living on a housing estate was the relentless din of garage bands, all drowning each other out in their attempts to be the next U2. When U2's star began to rise, Bono was still living around the corner from our house in an estate called Cedarwood. "We're going to knock on Bono's door, are you coming?" friends would ask (I never did). In hindsight, it is hardly surprising that he eventually moved into a house on a hill behind huge security gates.

Bono was obviously over estate living when he moved to Killiney but for some, no matter how wealthy they become, it continues to be a way of life. Upmarket estates - like Abington and Abbotts Hill in Malahide, Carrickmines Wood and Rocky Valley Park in Kilmacanogue, Co Wicklow - were purpose-built for cases where you can't take the estate out of the multi-millionaire.

Having never been in any of these manufactured estates for rich people, I'm not sure how authentic they are. Are you, for example, likely to hear parents shouting to little Tallulah Belle or Jack Henry that they're "wanta" for their dinner? And would you ever get children "knick knocking" (which, in my day, was the term for knocking on someone's door and running away) on your door? I'm imagining that keeping up with the Jones in these estates must be a high stakes game. A source, who has infiltrated a few of these estates, reported that the flash cars parked outside houses reminded her of "an episode of Footballers' Wives. It's like, if you don't have a 06 D jeep, you run the risk of being evicted from the estate."

When you drive into one of these estates you immediately feel all eyes are upon you. According to my source, Carrickmines Wood - where not all the houses launched in the late 1990s were million pound houses - "is in some ways a normal estate with children playing outside, but Abington, where some of the houses are behind high gates, is less active and you rarely see movement. When neighbours in these estates socialise you can imagine it's to compare who has the larger villa in Portugal or to show off their kid's new Abercrombie T-shirt."

Whether or not these millionaire estates are a rarefied form of estate life, the question has to be asked why anyone would want to live so close to other houses if they can afford to live away from the fray? "The sense of security," says estate agent Ronan O'Driscoll of HOK Residential, "you are off the main road so it's safer for children and they have a better chance of there being other children to play with than, say, on Shrewsbury or the Merrion roads." There are also substantial stamp duty savings to be made on new houses and "there's a better opportunity to interact with neighbours". O'Driscoll says there is "massive demand" for houses in these estates "because there are very few being built. The high density guidelines means that apartments are being crammed in everywhere."

As well as engendering a sense of belonging and community, living on an estate can give you a sense of purpose. Joining the residents' association can provide you with an instant battle to fight - saving your area against the enemy, usually delinquents or developers. On a practical level, if you get on with your neighbours you will always have someone close by in the event of an emergency. This may sound like the theme tune of an Antipodean soap opera but good neighbours might take in each other's bins and hold spare keys to each other's houses. A few vigilant residents at home during the day can be the equivalent of neighbourhood watch.

Of course, some people are more suited to estate life than others. An ability to wax lyrical about the weather and make it seem new and fresh every time is a definite asset. It can also be tricky if you fall out with a neighbour. After a charming teenage boy on our road spat at my feet a few months after we moved into the area, I now have to perform the tricky manoeuvre of waving to his lovely parents whilst scowling at him. And speaking of surly teenagers, if you consider your child's playmate a bad influence, it is much harder to keep them apart on an estate.

Then there are the neighbours with no concept of boundaries. A friend who went to a neighbour's party on her first night out after having a baby began to feel she was being watched. An elderly lady from across the road eventually piped up with: "Should you be drinking that? The poor baby will be cross-eyed," as she was about to sip on her second glass of wine of the night.

Blaring music and anti-social neighbours are other hazards of estate living and not all estates are friendly. New estates can be cold, anonymous places where no-one knows their neighbours. The mania for trading up has meant that more established estates are also being affected with people merely biding their time in an area until they move on to a bigger and better property. The Taoiseach has expressed concern over the dislocation of Irish communities. Maybe Bono will champion the cause and make a return to estate life.