I ADMIT I'm a fan of noise — and I don't think I'm alone.

How many of us automatically reach for the television on switch or turn the radio on as soon as we walk into an empty — and silent — room.

I've always been a fan of filling any silent space with noise, and lots of it.

Back when I was a grumpy teenager I would spend hours sitting in my bedroom, listening to very loud music.

Obviously this had to be done with headphones because my mother would have killed me if I'd been rude enough to blast Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails and latterly Blur and Oasis at full volume every evening.

And now that I live in my own home, every time I get in from work the first thing I do is flick on the TV.

So when I'm cooking tea, or washing up, or doing anything in my kitchen, the radio is ALWAYS on.

It's like I just cannot cope with silence. And the fact millions of us spend more time staring at a black box in the corner of the room, no matter what's on it, including absolute rubbish, than almost anything else, shows I am definitely not alone.

And even when we're forced to sit somewhere quietly, for example on a train, or bus, or plane, we find ways to make sure silence is abolished. Be that with music, films watched on teeny tiny phone screens, or endless YouTube clips (even I get sucked into this sometimes), we simply cannot enjoy silence and stillness.

But on a recent break away from sunny Bolton (almost) silence was forced on me — twice.

The first was on a day trip to a tiny island — Piel — just off the coast of Cumbria.

No cars, noise, mobile phone signal. Just the sound of the sea lapping on the shore, the wind blowing through the ruined 14th century castle and bird song. At first it almost felt disconcerting, but after a full day it was heaven.

The peace and quiet made me feel just that — peaceful and quiet.

And then the following day, on a walk in the Lake District, we visited a place with no other visitors — a miracle for that particular National Park I know.

Once again, the only noises to be heard were the gentle sound of the lake, birds and well, that was it.

It made me realise that we all need some lack of noise in our lives — and from now on I'll certainly think twice before I fill the silence with pointless volume.