Cordings situated in piccadilly is a renowned establishment for British Country clothing and tailoring - that can not only kit you out to shoot pheasant in the finest yellow ochre cords but for me offers a great selection of socks.

It's a beautiful place and the food is amazing.

Heaven in the heart of ugly Vauxhall. This peaceful and enchanting spot used to be squatted and has a very bohemian feel to it. Don't miss the secret garden with mosaics made of cups and plates. The food in the Italian deli is delish, a guy called Richard cooks it.

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.

By far the best bagels in London, they are open 24 hours and being just down the road from my flat a bit too local. It is run by a man called Mr Sammy, who doesn't muck about with portion size. It is well worth a visit especially for their smoked salmon and cream cheese speciality.