I'm a big fan of Richard Serra. As this is the train station I use to pass in and out of London. I think it's safe to say i've spent more time gazing and contemplating this art work than any other on earth! The steel monolith sits in a rather petite amphitheatre with surrounding step/seats. During the week, it's packed with picnicking stray commuters. I just love sitting there.

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.

Whipps Cross flats next to Hollow Pond boating lake is where I run. A perfect antidote to the chaos in the city.

If you like cocktails and pink neon lights, Tonight’s Josephine is definetly a perfect spot to spend your night! 

Untitled Bar is modelled on Andy Warhol’s Factory. It is sterile and minimal setting but as more bodies join, things soon warm up.