Describe the home of someone you know well that you often visit

I'd like to talk about my aunt's house, which is about twenty minutes from mine on the edge of the district. It's an old-style tube house — narrow at the front but surprisingly deep — with a tiled courtyard at the back where she grows herbs in old paint tins. I've been going there since I was small, so I know it well enough to find the light switches in the dark. What makes me visit so often isn't really the house itself but the atmosphere in it. There's always someone in the kitchen, the door is genuinely never locked during the day, and neighbours drift in and out without ringing. It's the opposite of my own flat, which is quiet and tidy and, frankly, a bit lifeless. I usually go on Sunday afternoons. We sit on plastic stools in the courtyard, my aunt insists on feeding me far more than I can eat, and I end up staying two hours longer than I planned. I like it because it is the one place where nobody expects anything of me — I don't have to be productive there, and that has become rare.