London has plenty of beautiful cemeteries. Brompton is one of the ‘Magnificent Seven’ and has many interesting tombs. It was also an inspiration of names for Beatrix Potter and the resting place of Emmeline Pankhurst.

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.

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

I go to the Heath every weekend (often via the wonderful Waterlow Park which skirts Highgate Cemetery) and during the week too if I’m working from home; it helps to put things in perspective when I’m thinking about my work. It’s great in the summer for obvious reasons but I love it the most in autumn and on those rare days it snows so much London grinds to a halt (which doesn’t take much). Everyone heads up there to make giant snowballs/cats/creatures and surf down Parliament Hill on anything they can get their hands on. Grown ups turn into kids for the day. My husband and I made this snow yeti last year, it was sad to leave him behind but he soon made friends and even made it into the Camden New Journal.

Nice place for a cake and coffee.