A treasure trove in the The City of London. The Archive of London. Strongrooms hold kilometres of shelving; boxes of matter that has somehow been catalogued and categorised in a traceable manner by the public, for academic, genealogical and other research. This beautiful book is from a box on Epping Forest. On the same visit, I looked through photographs of Blitz singsongs in Bethnal Green Underground station, 1980s anti-Thatcher / pro-GLC gig posters and paper concertina optical models of the Crystal Palace.

My favourite restaurant as the moment which was a former boxing hall. You sit on the old spectating seats and get served butter chicken on pine cones which infuse their flavour into the food. A really different experience.

Every year I take my 25 year old mini on the London to Brighton run. The views from the start line are always worth the 4AM wake-up.

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.

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.