Sit. Drink coffee. Buy Leica. Leave penniless.

The Lambeth Walk is not as billed in the song. Quite a bleak but somehow beautiful mishmash of architectural accident–or–design; a legacy of stray WWII bombs intended for more auspicious near-at-hand targets, such as the Houses of Parliament. I study sculpture here each Monday; a lovely workshop inside. The exterior features one of only a few examples of an outside pulpit, apparently for the minister to take his message direct to the shoppers, in the Walk's heyday.

One of my top three Wetherspoons.

Friday night: Local history event at South London Gallery Fire Station. Spent the sunny evening time to read the zines collection from the Feminist Library. The library is a lovely mobile minivan. Best tme to enjoy and summer drinks in the new art space.

This is the most genuine and unpretentious pub I have visited in London. The Palm Tree is on the east London canal outside of Victoria Park. You won't find it unless you know it's there. (And now you know!)