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.

Turkish food meets Heavy Metal. Lee Tiernan's (ex St John Bread & Wine Head Chef) experimental take on Turkish cuisine. Flatbreads, offal, squid ink, cod roe & foie gras doughnuts. Expect the unexpected.

I often stop when passing this artery of city traffic. The dwarfing structure casts shapes and shadows which can easily be missed when speeding in/out of the city.

If you fancy a relaxing cosy evening with blankets, hotdogs, cakes and doughnuts and comfy sofas....look no further ;)

A walled secret garden, the Physic Garden is like a time capsule, founded in 1673 to allow apprentices of the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries of London to study the healing properties of plants, it is now a living museum. Tours are offered by volunteers with immense knowledge of botany and the cultural history of the garden or visitors can wander the grounds alone and spot odd and fascinating plants such as the mystical Mandrake.