It's such an iconic building and it's always a joy to be anywhere near it. It just dominates the landscape around it. Ever since I first saw the cover of Pink Floyd's Animals I've loved it and I still do. There are always reports in the news for plans for developers to spend billions on refurbishing it. I'd genuinely prefer it to remain as it is rather than see it being turned it into a massive shopping centre full of chain stores. The thought of it being turned into some kind of Westfield full of people on Facebook on their laptops in a Starbucks fills me with rage.

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.

Coffee roastery, café, pizzeria and cocktail bar inside an old warehouse just around the corner from Broadway Market.

Beautiful architecture and setting, ideal place for catching the latest art-house flick or to enjoy evening tea and a journal session. Friendly staff, ambient atmosphere and a wonderful crowd.

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