Cosy little restaurant with a giant kitchen island unit in the centre which doubles as a display and seating area. Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner with a focus on fermenting.

A beautiful, neon-fronted, old school, single-screen cinema on Upper St. That anyone would choose to go to the Vue just up the road is baffling

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.

It's a members-only library but you might be granted access with a research request. The writer's room is great but there's a few special, hidden corners among the bookshelves to tuck yourself away in.

Sit. Drink coffee. Buy Leica. Leave penniless.