The Lambeth Walk is not as billed in the song. Quite a bleak but somehow beautiful mishmash of architectural accident–or–design; a legacy of stray WWII bombs intended for more auspicious near-at-hand targets, such as the Houses of Parliament. I study sculpture here each Monday; a lovely workshop inside. The exterior features one of only a few examples of an outside pulpit, apparently for the minister to take his message direct to the shoppers, in the Walk's heyday.

These giant spectral cylinders are great at different times of the day but my favourite time is around dusk when the buildings in the city start to light up. The Gherkin and the new Shard building are framed in the lowest ring then the shifting colours of the sky are almost split in the following ellipses.

There's something so quintessentially London about this hill. The network of paths and lines of lampposts leading you up to a view of the city that's at your fingertips.

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.

Great cosy place for anyone in need of cakes and pampering!