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.
Website
godsownjunkyard.co.uk
Address
God's Own Junkyard, Shernhall Street, London, United Kingdom
Current city: London
Other cities: Birmingham
Illustrator and doodler unsettled in London via elsewhere
 

More Places in London 471

I walk a lot; the best way to experience a city. So it's sometimes to do with the way places join up. This cast concrete letterform is a part of the Lycée's gateway. Each of the form's facets arrives at a different character, so six possible letters come from each cast object. I've never been inside the Lycée but always walked through this way up to the V&A, in order to examine again and again how each form works. The surfaces set the tone for the V&A and its incredible Ceramics floor, a perennial inspiration.
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The Lambeth Walk is not as billed in the song. Quite a bleak but somehow beautiful mishmash of architectural accident–or–design; a legacy of stray WWII bombs intended for more auspicious near-at-hand targets, such as the Houses of Parliament. I study sculpture here each Monday; a lovely workshop inside. The exterior features one of only a few examples of an outside pulpit, apparently for the minister to take his message direct to the shoppers, in the Walk's heyday.
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The best ice cream I have ever tasted in England – You are allowed any and every flavor and they shape it into a rose.
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An intimate live music venue in Dalston with lots of underground and experimental music you won't find anywhere else in London.
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This painted of the shopping centre by my brother, Leo Verhoeven, shows a rather idyllic vision of the shopping centre we both share. Its pretty rough, full of budget shops and funny cafes and framed by a shanty town style open air market. I have a real soft spot for it as the classic under dog, thats so often slated and condemned but lives on.
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