I’ve always been very fond of the ICA and its maverick spirit, less so in the latter part of this decade. These days the place is magnetic. To feel this incredible and unique place for arts and expression, breathing, breathing invigoratively, is rewarding to a London dweller or/and visitor. Its incredible transformation, revived from near death by Stefan Kalmár, is felt as soon as you enter the space, it feels open and alive, with vibrant and human energy in staff and visitors; risky, independent, engaging, resounding, and topical to our times programming, which is focused on breaking barriers in imagination an intellect rather than visitor record numbers. It is a breath of fresh air and an example what London art institutions are capable of if they open themselves to welcoming in an outsider and their passionate vision. And they have the best membership in town!   

Ever since visiting the exhibition space, a few years ago, I don’t think I have ever missed one single show. It is one of the best exhibition spaces for contemporary art in London, in my opinion. The scale and the light feel right. The environment is not too overwhelming and not too small. In addition, the bookshop has a good selection of catalogues, art books and magazines.

Specialising in photography & fashion books and magazines, this independent shop can be a goldmine for rare and out of print books. Also if you’re lucky you’ll meet Otis, the lovely pug-cross resident.

Maybe an obvious choice, but the Barbican is always good. My favourite space in there is the curve gallery, last time I went was for Cory Arcangel's 'Beat the Champ'. I love the architecture, although not many people do. I think it was voted 'London's ugliest building' in 2003.

Lots of traditional charming country pubs around the area, but it can a bit hit and miss. A really friendly one with amazing food (and a unusually large veggie selection…) is the Beehive in Epping Green; close to the Great Wood. It's friendly enough you dare going there by yourself with the paper and are not at the mercy of local rubbernecks ("the rubberneck" = person who stares at strangers without any sign of guilt)