My favourite record shop in London. Old-school record store stocks eclectic blues, dance, soul, reggae and global music on vinyl and CD.

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.

Good, progressive, solid, forward-thinking place. And run by the warmest, most intelligent and inspiring people to be around. Always a humble, fulfilled visit. And whilst in the area, best to visit next door to Hannah Barry's gallery for more wonderful work.

Always interesting exhibitions and a nice little shop selling magazines, prints and books.. Small and simple gallery, surrounded by Hyde Park's beautiful elegant landscape.

No matter where I am in the world, which city I’m living in, my bedroom will always be my favourite place and there’s nothing more I enjoy than to just sit down in front of my computer, scan negatives in, smoke a ridiculous amount of cigarettes and drink excessive amounts of tea.