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.

London institution, a magical place to have tea and cake and a perfect spot to watch London Soho life unfold before your eyes. The quality is always superb, the staff are friendly and human and the landladies Michelle and Tanya are part of what make this place and London so magical. A little gem that is a must on anyone's visit to London.

One of the best places in the world to see left field, experimental and creative new music which sits outside the realm of the mainstream. It should be cherished. I wish i went more often...Some highlights of mine include Midori Takada and Acid Mothers Temple.

Nice place for a cake and coffee.

Regeneration or gentrification? Having been living in and around Brixton for almost two decades, I'm not the only one witnessing its gradual transformation. Right now, Brixton offers an intriguing mix of Jamaican and British culture like nowhere else.