This is the stuff nightmares are made of. Good nightmares. A perverse Aladdin's cave of treasure and artefacts.

Sometimes when I wake up it feels like I am at sea watching a big ocean liner pass by. It is the view from my home in one of the two stepped concrete apartment blocks that make up the Brunswick Centre in Bloomsbury. When you visit skip the chain stores of the shopping centre below (except for the excellent Renoir Cinema) and instead get an invitation to one of the small but gorgeous flats with their winter gardens or just wander through the spectacular concrete A frames and across the vast sun drenched terraces on podium level.

The gallery was extended into a neighbouring Victorian House space about a year and a half ago, with a real skill in judging the meeting point between the contemporary and the conserved. The architects — 6a — were also responsible for Raven Row near Spitalfields (another favourite place). I'm lucky enough to work part of the week next door, at Camberwell College of Arts. This is about great food and good books. The café — a real haven at breakfast time before work — is run by the nicest team of people, with intertwined relationships to Camberwell. This book, designed by James Langdon, represents the kind of find possible in the bookshop and also the quality of conversation content had, over the best coffee.

The best place for a glass of wine*. It's the perfect balance – not too formal, not too informal either. Food is consistently good. Lamb's Conduit Street is a little oasis in the midst of Bloomsbury. (*slightly overpriced)

Great night walks.