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.

The Roundhouse was built as a steam-engine repair shed in 1846, and then became a warehouse before falling into disuse for 25 years and reopening as a performing arts venue in 1964 hosting acts like Jimi Hendrix, The Doors and Pink Floyd. It was redeveloped between 2004-2006 and is one of my favourite music venues in London; it’s a beautiful building, has a great sound and isn’t too huge so feels fairly intimate. Some highlights for me this year were The Flaming Lips, David Byrne & St.Vincent and the Timepiece installation by Conrad Shawcross.

An all women's team restaurant serving delicious home-cooked Indian cuisine. Owned by the very charming and talented chef, Asma Khan.

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.

Healthy superfood salads. There is something for everyone.