Though the city is amazing with a lot to offer, of course it’s great to have your own hideaway. My room is essentially my studio/desk space too and the hub of my creative activities.

Bordering the west side of Victoria Park, Regent's Canal serves as a pleasant walking or riding track, particularly on weekends when it's at it's quietest.

Great cosy place for anyone in need of cakes and pampering!

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.

Everyone should visit this absurd restaurant once in their lifetime. Its over-priced, mediocre food but the decor and ambiance is like nothing else in theatrics and campery. You are met on arrival by a white velour 'napkin' artfully screwed up on your diner plate. Absorbent, not? Fabulously awful, yes.