Great sourdough bread, beautiful pastries and Roman-style pizza slices. 

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.

A small but specialist record shop built around proprietor Jean Claude’s extensive knowledge of 20th and 21st century recorded music. Connoisseurs in vinyl, you can expect to find an eclectic range of new and pre-owned rarities. Based on the 3rd floor of an office block in Noho, it feels like a secret hideout for super vinyl freaks.

G.F. Smith's permanent showroom, in Central London. Visits are by appointments only — But I would definitely recommend making the visit. All of their stocks are beautifully archived, along with example publications, and a rotating series of paper installations in both the window & basement, courtesy of Made Thought.

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