At the end of the Victoria line at the Walthomstow station, and then a 15 minute walk through some suburban streets with some lefts and at other times rights is an industrial estate. Through the gate and buried at the very end of the units where you are convinced you are lost and doubting it's existence at all is God's Own Junkyard. It's a worthy pilgrimage and actually sort of where you expect God would put a junkyard. The warehouse is a monument to neon and the life works of the late Mr Neon, Chris Bracey. It's littered to the rooftop with cables, plug sockets and choice words with neon epigrams, the whole collection is stacked, I suppose how a junkyard of the sort would be. Full of sex, religion, americana, sci-fi and nostalgia that all blend together surprisingly well, It's a visual feast that you can take in with a coffee and an open mouth. It is a gem of a place. It is really great.

It’s coming up to Christmas and if you’re like me, i.e. like to avoid the hustle and bustle of a jam packed Oxford Street to find that perfect item for that special someone why not check out Folk Clothing which is tucked away close to Central St. Martin’s near Southampton Row and surrounded by some really interesting shops including the People’s Supermarket.

The best place for a glass of wine*. It's the perfect balance – not too formal, not too informal either. Food is consistently good. Lamb's Conduit Street is a little oasis in the midst of Bloomsbury. (*slightly overpriced)

Set amongst one of my favourite housing estates in London – the Brunswick, Renoir cinema shows art-house films in it's two small but comfortable screens. I come here at least twice a month, and always on my own.

Bread shop, bakery, school & cafe