Fortitude Bakehouse, a craft bakery, hidden away on a quiet mews in Bloomsbury. 

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.

I found out an amazing fact recently about this place which weirdly enough relates back to my interest of analogue TV distortions in my work. The building where the restaurant stands is where John Logie Baird gave the first public demonstration of Television. If that doesn’t want to make you go there, the band Pulp also wrote a song of the same name on their Different Class album. Apart from these two great facts their food is pretty darn good too!

Where 1984 of George Orwell got its inspiration from, the craziness of a real ministry of propaganda. 

An unassuming glass door on an otherwise plain facade hides a cavernous space, with high ceilings and huge sliding partitioned walls producing excellent exhibitions in a space you'll want to go back to.