THERE is something immensely satisfying in strolling through the streets of Mayfair, pitching up at an exclusive residence and bowling right in.

For the last week, it has been possible for you and I to do this, as the residents of 39A Clarges Mews have been holding an open house (Clarges, I can only assume is the way the locals pronounce "Claridges").

All you must do to enter this magnificent Grade II*-listed Georgian property, valued at £22.5 million, is ask the two men on the door. If you are willing to do a bit of DIY about the house, they’ll probably let you stay for good - or at least until they are booted out, which they reckon will happen in two weeks, as they are, of course, merely squatters.

"Squatting sounds so romantic doesn’t it?" opines Casper on the Evening Standard website. "Yet these people are thieves pure and simple. They should be removed immediately and jailed". Haskey, of SE1, suggests letting pitbulls loose.

Yet most commentators applaud their actions. The house has been unoccupied for over 25 years, and, though it was bought by an investment company called Timekeeper Ltd in 2006, has remained empty - Timekeeper is apparently waiting for planning permission to renovate.

The dozen or so squatters, mostly former art students aged 19-23, moved in after being threatened with eviction at a nearby £6 million property, and have now opened this gem up, providing free classes for the community - welding, bookbinding, sewing and juggling - making art and living on unwanted food taken from skips.

An engaging variety of visitors - from foreign students to a middle-aged couple, intrigued by the architecture - were strolling around the high-ceilinged rooms when I visited on Sunday, admiring the beautiful fittings and the immaculately preserved 1960s kitchens of the fourth floor. It is worth visiting for the psychedlic period wallpaper alone, and the view from the roof is splendid.

The squatters have stopped talking to the "mainstream media", they told me when I entered the main kitchen to find some young men preparing a ratatouille for 40 ("Shall we cheat and go and buy some bouillon from Tesco’s?" one of them endearingly wondered, willing to break their freegan principles in the name of taste).

But, at least until I had revealed I was a journalist, I was struck by their generosity. Two years ago, I spent a little time at the anarchist-occupied Vortex building in Stoke Newington (now a Nando’s), and came away disenchanted by the squatters’ internecine squabbling and general cynicism.

By contrast, I left Clarges Mews with my faith restored - both in the scope for living outside society, and in the much maligned youth of today. From their accents, a few of the squatters were from relatively privileged backgrounds. But what opportunities are there even for privileged young people now anyway? If I was out of art college and couldn‘t find a job, I know where I’d head..