Paul Rothe n Son has been there 120 years, bang in the middle of town. Hard to find a proper old-school deli in central London nowadays, n none more proper than this place. Great jacket potatoes, soup, sandwiches. It looks the part too. And the service is always great. Try and avoid the lunch queue.

My favourite library when I was a student, I still love to wander and look up to its Renaissance sculptures. 

Even if you have seen it hundreds of times it will still stop you in your tracks. A great piece of architecture and apparently the largest brick structure in Europe.

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.

Where 1984 of George Orwell got its inspiration from, the craziness of a real ministry of propaganda.