This is a very quiet Polish Club, which acts in sharp contrast with busy Exhibition Road.

The UK's only cinema dedicated to documentaries. Really interesting programme of screenings, events and talks.  

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.

I've had a love affair with the BT Tower for some time now. Unfortunately entrance to the public was shut in 1980, but earlier this year I was invited up to the top, where the revolving restaurant once stood. The views were absolutely breath taking.

The power station is a ghost like ruin that stands on the banks of the Thames. Its right next to the train tracks rolling out of London to the rest of the south of England. I pass it every time I go back to where I grew up and every time I arrive back in London. It has become symbolic with arriving and departing, a constant in my life. I used to joke and refer to it as my lover - seeing me off and welcoming me home.