St Pancras Grand

St Pancras Grand
It could be said that The St Pancras Grand was primarily constructed for the purpose of providing a high-class resting area for the many travelers and business folk using the station. It could, but it’d be wrong. The real purpose for The Grand is to develop a sense of romance for a forgotten era. For those with more than an ounce of romanticism in their souls, the buzz of travel and the intrigue of their own imagination provides good enough reason to visit The Grand, where the voyagers mystique wafts around the air like the anticipation of the summer holidays on the last day of school. Even if your purpose for being at St Pancras station has nothing remotely to do with dirty weekends in Paris, Brussels or Leicester, The Grand is ever beckoning. If you’ve ever felt the need to don a trilby, throw on a wax raincoat and light your next cigarette with your last one, The Grand will boot you back in time.

A gazillion trillion fine English pounds was spent turning this Eurostar terminal into the world’s tidiest station and in the process it became a behemoth of grandeur. Then, along came Searcy’s, the restaurant artistes who have installed upper-echelon dining experiences at many of the great institutions - the London Transport Museum, the National Portrait Gallery, the Royal Opera House, the Gherkin, the Barbican. First, they plonked the now-famous champagne bar along the upper concourse, and when they were happy with that, they added a restaurant.

There’s no need to actually go to Paris on the Eurostar because upon entering The Grand you’re practically there already. For example, there’s a bar at both ends; the staff all talk with French accents; the Art Deco lights are clearly contraband from the Parisian Metro; the leather banquettes are separated by wide boulevards; and the colour scheme is scattered with a poke of autumn brass, a snarl of earthy yellow and un clin d'oeil de brun français. The ostentatious gilded ceiling is fabulously French and only adds to the golden hue.

Yet despite this French facade, the seasonal and locally-sourced cuisine at The Grand is très Anglais and at a price that talks your language, thanks to chief chef, Billy Reid, a man who looks to the night’s skies and sees nothing but Michelin stars. Posh fish & chips with mushy peas, sausage & mash with red onion gravy, liver & bacon, Bubble & Squeak, British charcuterie, British Rock oysters, Eton Mess, AND rice pudding with strawberry jam all battle for supremacy on the map they call the menu. But for a faultless demonstration of traditional British fare, take this advice: the fish receives more critical acclaim than anything to do with meat, unless the meat is surrounded by pie pastry. This means you should (a) make sure you procure a window-facing seat so you can show full admiration for the outstanding structure peering in, then (b) get things started with the potted mackerel, followed swiftly by (c) an embroiled encounter with the smoked haddock & poached egg main, before finally succumbing to (d) an intervention of sherry trifle.

On the fluids side, The Grand’s signature grapefruit, peach and presecco cocktail is a winner for igniting romantic liaisons. The comprehensive wine list is friends with a good number of Old World types - the Muscadet Sur Lie Coteaux de la Loire is handy with a fish dish - but as guests at The Grand are there for a completely authentic British experience, the delicious Chapel Down Pinot Reserve, from Kent, should keep the ticker ticking. Failing that, there’s always London Pride on tap.

Allegedly, The Grand is frequented by international business folk - most popular with the Belgians yet weirdly not the French - who arrive early, have coffee, eat breakfast, conduct meetings in the private dining area, experience elevenses, have afternoon internet with wifi tea, then return to their home countries all in the space of one day and never once leaving The Grand. So us Brits salute you, our friendly neighbours, for realising a good thing when you taste it.

The Grand is not just for train spotters, it’s for romance spotters. The charm of train travel still lives and The Grand is just that: grand.

Whales

How do you get two whales in a car?

Across the Severn Bridge.

Font you!

Three fonts walk into a bar.

Barman says "Oi, get out! We don't want your type in here!"

Slim Jim’s Liquor Store

Slim Jim’s Liquor Store
112 Upper St, N1 1QN

Geez, we Brits go ga-ga for the US, don’t we? We love to high-five our evangelical TVs and smother our naked bodies in hot, buttered Americana. We’re so American we constantly teeter on the edge of a ‘Yee-haa’ and a slap of the thigh wherever we may be (meeting, funeral, B&Q). Well, if you yearn for the sweet pancake aroma of Freedomville USA, you’ll absolutely have kittens for the hometown diner-cum-brothel that is Slim Jim’s. Here, the rock n roll is free and the late nights are compulsory.

Wedged half way between Angel and Highbury & Islington – a decent walk from the tube for any wandering pilgrim – Slim Jim’s is thin, dim and just big enough to accommodate around a hundred drunken highway poets. There’s a healthy dose of weirdos – the good, nouveau-mod kind – both in front and behind the bar, wearing anything from leather jackets to sharp suits. These patrons are as rugged as the walls. Secretly, they all believe they’re Jack Kerouac and these dark, covert nooks and crannies are for beatnik poses, not usurped dictators-in-hiding (if you have such a problem).

Look around the hazy, red, neon-hued liquor store and it’s easy to feel like you’ve stepped through the Stargate into Back To The Future: 1950s bar stools, high-backed booths, a plaque on the wall that proudly states “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada”. And the night proves decidedly more American once a drink ordered. This is pure movie script stuff – “Hit me again, bar tender”.

There are beers, but for goodness sake don’t be such a Philistine. Get in there and do it properly. There’s 15-year old scotch, 17-year old Japanese whisky hibiki, bourbons and rye from the deep South, Trinidadian and Guatemalan rums; the back bar intimidates with its sheer size and range but the staff are on hand to learn ya. Each drink has to be drunk in a specific way and even though there are cocktails available, real men don’t dilute their poison.

Music is integral to this outfit and any self-respecting dive wouldn’t be worth its desolation if it didn’t possess a jukebox. That the manager is the former head of Camden’s paragon of iniquity, The Hawley Arms, is no coincidence. The box of formidable sound-colour is comprised of almost 100 choices to entice a wide stance and air guitar: for the classic rock Dads amongst us, the Lej status is turned to up to 11 with names such as The Clash, Queen, Led Zep, and Hendrix to thrill; equally, for those with more of a contemporary gait, you’ll be as pleased as a fat kid in a sweet shop when you smell the Kings, the Killers and the Kaisers wafting round the bar; all bluegrass and country lovers, give it until the beginning of 2009, they should have something for you by then. Fans of Morrissey beware, though – it’s strictly forbidden to chose more than three Smiths tracks in a row. No need to explain why, really. There are rumours that Slim Jim’s will be attempting to stage live music at some point in the future, but where they’re going to put the band is anyone’s guess. And as for the planned monthly burlesque evenings......

In conclusion: long, drawn-out, boozy, school night shenanigans consisting entirely of sitting, talking and perhaps the odd bit of listening. So, can you function fully at work whilst still drying out from last night? This is Islington, USA. State capital of Escapism.

Chairlift

“We’re the best band in the world at enjoying tacos” says Patrick, buoyed by his own confidence. “We challenge any band to combat us in a taco-eating contest.” At first, this might seem exactly the sort of comment one would expect from the drummer/bassist of a band that produces charming, kooky soundtracks for iPod commercials (yes, that “I try to do handstands for you” tune is theirs), but there is more to Chairlift than just brief throwaway whimsy. Much like Feist, the Apple experience served only to grab the collective attention. By comparison, the remainder of the debut album - Does You Inspire You - is a darker, mightier body of work, especially when manifested into their emphatic live performance. This is haunting stuff. Chairlift are quite creepy. Even the way they each speak conveys a sense of foreboding: Patrick drawls like an incoherent alien; Aaron - guitarist/songwriter - sits almost silently; and Caroline - provider of synths and vocals - jumps around in a wildly musing state.

This disparity of moods is evident in the work they produce and their wide-ranging reference points hop between genres. From the epic Asian-bent ‘Planet Earth’ to the slow synth dream of ‘Somewhere Around Here’ to the alluring horror power chords of ‘Territory’ to the swirling rock-and-thunk electronica of ‘Make Your Mind Up’; Chairlift’s miscellany is simplistic and textured.

“People get confused by how many different genres we play with but to us it’s all part of the same movie,” says Caroline. Using Quentin Tarrantino’s Asian/cowboy flavour as an example, she adds, “By combining all these different things, the world that they all coexist in is our sound. It’s not that we’re juggling between different ones, it’s actually cross pollination.”

Chairlift often refer to their own ‘world’; one which, according to Patrick, “you cant sit on but you could definitely crawl inside.” This hollow dystopian world has a conscience and deals with our planet’s destructions on several tracks. For Caroline, “Music is very physical. Like a building environment. It’s not flat when it comes out of the speakers. It’s a way of seeing the world from the point of view of the song.”

Even the band’s name, which was originally intended for a project Caroline and Patrick previously played in, is significant to viewing this ‘world’. “A chairlift is a journey over a beautiful, slowly-changing terrain” Caroline reflects. “It’s a slow panoramic view and our music is like that, it takes you through different places.”

One might argue that here they could be describing a movie soundtrack and it’s no secret Chairlift are great fans of Twin Peaks, Donnie Darko and a slew of 80s cinematic releases. However, the association with their sound is very much a coincidence. They claim to have only started listening to the era’s output once their album was finally complete: “The 80s pillaged us” admits Caroline.

Her slick vocal technique certainly benefits the fantasy element. She crosses the solidity of Feist with the peculiarity of Kate Bush and Regina Spektor, thus registering a high quotient of eeriness. The overall result is a world that borders with the likes of Ladyhawke, The Knife, PJ Harvey and Bats For Lashes.

Chairlift are quietly conquering Europe, as the current tour demonstrates. Aside from the odd broken guitar, blown adaptor, vehicle issue and illness/ailment, the band’s first TransAtlantic experience has been a success. So where do they see themselves a year from now? According to a psychic they frequented en masse recently, they’ll be in Florida making their next record. Even though Patrick hates Florida, Caroline sees this as a blessing: “the record will be much cooler because it [Florida] is beautiful but grotesque.”

The clairvoyant may just be right. After all, it was a strange act of fate that brought the band together in the first place. Having all known one another in Colorado, they experienced a spooky and fortuitous meeting again in New York some time later. This lead directly to the present Chairlift incarnation and the experimental, electronic trajectory they complete today.

Their move to the Big Apple has thrown up some notable relationships with Brooklyn neighbours MGMT, Yeasayer and Grizzly Bear, from whom the band has studied some of life’s most valuable lessons: “We’ve learned how to hang out really well,” admits Patrick proudly, as Caroline reaffirms, “We practice having fun and we’re getting really good at it.”

www.myspace.com/chairlift

London's best contemporary art galleries

Although the Tate Modern, the ICA and the Saatchi Museum all have the financial might to bring in top names and big crowds, London still boasts a wealth of alternative contemporary art museums well worth discovering.

Design Museum
This is Practicality Vs Art, all contained in a neat little riverside package. This slender collection offers a brief distraction from your Southbank stroll. When it opened in 1989, under the watchful eye of one Sir Terrance Conran, it was the world’s first museum to be entirely focused on 20th century design. Now that that has swallowed up the 21st century as well aspects like graphics, fashion, architecture, industry, manufacturing and interiors are also included. Anything goes with the exhibits: from global packaging to concepts in video gaming, from Manolo Blahnink shoe designs to Vogue photography. The museum is limited to two floors and the showcases are, therefore, constantly renewed. It’s also worth knowing that there’s a Conran restaurant, the Blue Print Café, on the premises. Get futuristic, get inspired and, while you’re at it, get a great view of the Thames and Tower Bridge.
+44 (0) 870 833 9955
www.designmuseum.org

2 Willow Road
This influential Hampstead homestead will suit fans of modern architecture. It was designed and lived in by Modernist architect, Ernö Goldfinger. If you’re thinking you’ve heard that surname before, you’re right: James Bond’s creator and fellow Hampstead resident, Ian Fleming, allegedly gave Bond’s nemesis the architect’s name when Fleming objected to him demolishing the previous cottages to make way for his modern terrace. Although Goldfinger’s private art collection still lives here and includes important works by Marcel Duchamp, Max Ernst and Henry Moore, it’s the building’s large, open interior that commands the most attention: the clever use of color; the obsessions with wood and concrete; and the spiral staircase designed by Anglo-Danish engineer, Ove Arup. Be warned, entry times are hourly and by tour only, plus facilities are very limited: restricted wheelchair access, no toilets, no refreshments and no parking.
+44 (0) 20 7435 6166
www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-2willowroad

The Barbican Art Gallery and The Curve
Cutting edge art and design housed in possibly London’s most peculiar building. Constructed in the 1980s—and boy does it show—the Barbican Centre is a specifically-built cultural complex (Europe’s largest, apparently). And in terms of galleries it boasts two for the price of one; although one of them is actually free to enter. The Gallery, on the third floor of this labyrinthine monstrosity, heavily favors touring exhibits to keep things fresh (roughly seven shows a year). The rotation brings in elements of fine art, architecture, fashion and design but is particularly well known for photography. The second gallery, The Curve—so called because of its long bent shape—commissions new installations from contemporary artists. You could literally spend an entire day at The Barbican filling your boots with culture what with the concert hall, two theatres, a cinema, and a public library. There’s also the newly-refurbished (as of September 08) Searcy restaurant on site too.
+44 (0) 20 7638 4141
www.barbican.org.uk/artgallery


Bloomberg SPACE
An avant-garde space fueled by the world of business. It seems an odd pairing, especially when you think of all those ghastly works of art in skyscraper foyers dotted around the world. Better to have all the great art collected in one place, wouldn’t you agree? Well, Bloomberg, the kings of business TV, have taken the fiscal-meets-fine-art idea and transposed it into a deliberately innovative venue. This isn’t your average run-of-the-mill contemporary corporate art, this is large and intrepid. The ceilings are especially high and aid the artists in providing a larger and wholly differing sense of perspective. As well as intriguingly themed collectives—such as an exhibition about prison—there are commissioned installations by solo artists: for example, the bold wall paintings of Brit Paul Morrison and the neon explorations of Frenchman Bertrand Lavier. Plus, it’s only a 5-minute walk through the impressive Liverpool Street new business district to the delicious Turkish restaurant, Haz.
+44 (0) 20 7330 7959
www.bloombergspace.com

Kinetica
As the name suggests, this the UK's first, and possibly only, museum dedicated to kinetic, electronic and experimental art. If you like you art to be static, motionless and hung on the wall, this is not the place for you. Everything here exploits the world of movement; where shapes, rhythm, light, energy and sound combine in some sort of quirky science lab. Whilst it somehow conveys the very essence of the East End—fashionable, funky, leftfield, modern—it also quaintly juxtaposes the ‘ye olde’ feel of its Spitalfields Market setting. The installations utilize new media and audiovisual technology and the work is often created by up-and-coming artists. Recent highlights include suspended pens that draw light beams on the floor and a sonic exhibit called Soundwaves. Overall, half an hour spent warming your bones after trawling the vintage clothing stores in the chilly market all morning. Plus, it’s only a two-minute walk from the hearty St. John Bread & Wine eatery.
+44 (0) 20 7392 9674
www.kinetica-museum.org/new_site

Whitechapel Art Gallery
A must for 2009. Although Whitechapel is currently (as of October 2008) in the midst of major redevelopments it’s still worth a mention because if artists like Picasso, Kahlo, Pollock and Rothko have all had UK premiers there, you know it’s got to be great. Like The Barbican, Whitechapel is a one-stop shop for culture, boasting a whole host of events, talks, discussions, films, music and poetry, as well as art installations. If at all humanly possible, try waiting until the Spring of 2009 to visit because by then the £13 million expansion program will be in full operation and what was once the old library will then transform into three new galleries and a street-facing café. It seems the contemporary art scene feels most at home in the East End. The Barbican, Bloomberg SPACE, and Kinetica are all in East London and all less than 15 minutes walk from one another other. Indeed, you might want to have a crack at doing them all in one day.
+44 (0) 20 7522 7888
www.whitechapel.org

London's best contemporary commercial art galleries

Not all contemporary art in London is just for looking at. Some of it is for buying and taking home with you, too.

Lisson Gallery
This modern, minimalist gallery is quite spooky. Its blank white walls and parquet floor lend each piece a three-dimensional frame. Plus, it’s eeriely quiet, aside from the odd looped voice recording emanating from a few of the installations. The shows are mainly solo efforts depicting challenging sculpture and video. It heavily promotes young, upcoming artists which means it’s popular with students and the alternative/media crowd. In previous decades British sculptors like Bill Woodrow and Julian Opie have exhibited, as have Turner Prize winners Richard Deacon and Anish Kapoor. The gallery is split into two separate halves on opposite sides of an indistinct road but it shouldn’t take more than half an hour to get around both camps. Their website is fairly comprehensive so it’s worth checking prior to your visit which artist is showing and whether they’re to your tastes. Sadly, the surrounding area is nothing to rave about so perhaps combine this with a visit to the Wallace Collection which is only a 5-minute taxi ride away.
+ 44(0) 20 7724 2739
www.lissongallery.com

White Cube
Trendy, audacious and often quick to spot burgeoning talent on the horizon. Tomorrow’s heroes in a 1920s setting. White Cube Hoxton Square—in tandem with sister gallery, White Cube Mason’s Yard, in St. James—has been exhibiting controversial contemporary artists, painter and sculptors since the turn of the millennium. It’s particularly well known for giving introductory solo opportunities to the Young British Artists collective which included Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin and the Chapman Brother, Dino and Jake. Turner prize winners Gilbert and George and Anthony Gormley have also shown installations here. This means it’s quite a fashionable hangout and the area itself is known for its colorful, edgy vibe. Many bohemian bars and eateries are sprinkled around the neighborhood. One worth noting is the Loungelover cocktail bar just a few blocks away.
+44 (0) 207 930 5373
www.whitecube.com

Victoria Miro Gallery
West End notoriety transposed to an alternative setting. When rental charges in central London rocketed, many commercial properties moved to cheaper areas whilst maintaining their distinctive output. Behold, the Victoria Miro, once resident of Mayfair, now living in a converted, yet still shabby chic, Victorian furniture factory in Hoxton. It’s a bit of a bright, airy maze inside and the vastness of the two floors can get a little disorientating. The addition of a sleek minimalist extension has added to this feeling. It was built over the neighboring Parasol Unit Foundation of Contemporary Art and can only be got at via the connecting back terrace (although the views are worth the trouble). In terms of art, for a contemporary gallery to be of any real worth these days it needs the ubiquitous ‘Turner Prize’ stamped somewhere in its blurb and the Victoria Miro does just that with winners and nominees aplenty. Although fawning over established names it also likes to represent young artists and usually has a sense of humor: a recent gay men’s club and fake toilet cubicle is one such example.
+44 (0)20 7336 8109
www.victoria-miro.com

Gagosian Gallery
A cavernous, bright space that has a reputation for delivering high quality. The catalogue of artists who’ve been previously represented at Gagosian reads like a ‘Best of’ list, so whoever is exhibiting at the time is probably well worth purchasing. Gagosian always seems to get the big guns—Takashi Murakami, Jeff Koons, Andy Warhol, Damien Hirst, Frank Stella, the Chapman brothers, Gilbert & George, to name a mere handful—and, as such, the Gagosian brand stretches as far afield as New York, Beverly Hills, Rome and Moscow. Basically, they know their stuff. Choose the Britannia Street residence over the Mayfair gallery as it’s a lot bigger and has outstanding natural light to complement the works. The latter gallery is purely to maintain the Gagosian name in London’s West End; a show pony, if you will.
+44 (0) 20 7841 9960

www.gagosian.com

Garden Gallery (@ Osterley Park)
A neat little gallery set amongst some quite outstanding National Trust scenery. Up until the end of the 2008 season, this West London country house was home to two galleries: the Jersey and the Garden. Sadly, the former will be closing for commercial use—boo!—but the good news is that the Garden Gallery will remain open. It’s still going to be showing a broad scope of mediums so you’ll get anything from pencil portraits to photography to video installations to abstract Lithuanian oil paintings. This one-room space is so-called because of its location in the 18th-century private walled garden. Solo artists—some professional, some amateur, many local to the area—use it for about a week or two at a time. The mansion itself is neoclassical and has an enormous swath of landscaped parkland and tranquil lakes attached to it. Plus, there’s a farm shop selling produce from the mansion’s own farmlands.
+44 (0) 208 232 5050
www.nationaltrust.org.uk

Waddington Galleries
This is something of a 20th century masters hoard. Waddington Galleries covers three separate venues in the same Mayfair street—the greedy lot—the largest of which is No.11 where works are focused on the older, more established greats of the twentieth century such as Giorgio de Chirico, Henri Matisse, Henry Moore, Pablo Picasso, and Donald Judd. The other galleries are predominantly reserved for emerging artists, young artists and burgeoning artists from around the world. The works are based around the fields of sculpture and painting and are exhibited largely as solo shows with the odd sprinkling from their representative inventory catalogue.
+44 (0)20 7851 2200
www.waddington-galleries.com

Michael Hoppen Galleries
The world appears much more poignant when seen through a lens in black and white. That’s what Michael Hoppen Galleries in Brompton aims to achieve by dealing only in photographs. They know a thing or two about capturing images, their clients include corporate names like British Airways and Citibank, as well as consulting for the V&A and The Guggenheim. This converted warehouse is three floors high and filled to bits with vintage and contemporary works. The chronological variety is outstanding and so too is the subject matter, jumping from documentary to nudes to seascapes in the blink of an eye. There is a modicum of color photography, but it is sparse. The shows jump between mixed and solo offerings to maintain a freshness and it’s great that they don’t always favor the established photographers just because it might add value to a picture, too; although there are the occasional unexpected works by the likes of Annie Liebovitz and Hunter S. Thompson.
+44 (0) 207 352 3649
www.michaelhoppengallery.com

Hauser & Wirth
Flowing obsessions with blue (Louise Bourgeois), architecturally-inspired conceptual formations (Dan Graham) and barren landscapes etched, drawn or made from unusual materials (Michael Raedecker): it must said, Hauser & Wirth represents a wealth of diverse artists. The primary space for the solo exhibitions is an Edwardian building on the famous Piccadilly. This former bank is lined with oak panels which provide an alternative backdrop to the typical white walls so synonymous with contemporary art. In fact the walls almost lend a juxtaposing air of antiquity to the modern environment. Hauser & Wirth also has a presence on Old Bond Street where they have joined forces with the age-old experts, Colnaghi. That venue holds important annual exhibitions from 19th and 20th century artists and the Red Room is especially geared towards an old masters set-up. Note that works on the upper floors can only be viewed by appointment.
+44 (0) 207 287 2300
www.hauserwirth.com

Tabernacle

55-61 Tabernacle Street, Shoreditch EC2A 4AA

Tabernacle has been entering ‘one-stop shop’ in the occupation field of its tax return for a few years now but in September 2008 it went a bit crazy and got refurbed out of its mind. Formal white table cloths were kicked out onto the street and suddenly Tabernacle became an odd mix of schmoozy boozer, School Disco, and Italian restaurant royalty. Cuckoo! Hitchcock did something similar with Norman Bates, only his victims ended up having not such a good night.

The first port of call in your loony toons night is the elegant eatery. Open kitchen, autumnal decor, wispy chandeliers, nifty lighting, textured walls, and a hefty door to keep the bar rabble safely in the bar where it belongs. This is a very long way from Bella Pasta. In fact, pasta is one thing you’ll probably find very little of on the menu. This is authentic rustic Italian fare. The first sign that you’re in a cracking Italian restaurant? That initial bread-into-olive-oil dip resulting in one of those very special kinds of ‘personal spasm’. That first hit from the hypnotic glass of Heba wine immediately transports you to a sun terrace overlooking a Tuscan vineyard. Nail this one down, you’re now a-board the Yummy Bus and you’ve only got a one-way ticket!

If you’re lucky, this is how your itinerary should follow:
A) Starter. Only one real option to go for - antipasti. Colourful, dramatic, blobby. Make sure you ask for the stuffed pork roulade as it might not be on the menu.
B) Main. Fish stew with truffle mash, made using a secret recipe written by Ivan the chef’s Mum. So secret he makes it in the basement so no one watch.
C) Dessert. Honestly, more than two courses is optimistic, but if you must slip into a total food coma, tiramisu should finish you off.

Now, the bar, that place where freelancer creatives and general layabouts (same thing) save on rent by plopping themselves at a Wifi-enabled ‘desk’, occasionally procuring a coffee, some breakfast, some lunch and more coffee. Here, exposed brickwork, chainmail curtains and floral ceilings are the guardians of the occupants’ souls. It’s like an industrial hideout for a East End baddie and Dennis Waterman is going to kick in the door at any moment. Be aware, the cocktail list is a tad anemic. Disappointing, considering the impressive library of spirits on display, but booze is merely a conduit for imaginary displays of wealth anyway so make it a pint instead. Conveniently and cleverly, bar food is served until 2am (!!) as well so trademark trips to Istanbul Kebab Palace to purchase something to wear/eat are thankfully neutralised.

Downstairs is Cube, the recently upgraded third installment in this oddball trilogy. Cube is strangely un-cube like in its dimensions and looks remarkably like the set from Charlie & the Chocolate Factory. The centre piece in this lovechild between colour and funk is the LED dance floor, a pulsating beacon of zest that doesn’t just light up the room as much as feed on the collective aura of all that dare to dance upon it. There’s no charge at the door meaning a younger crowd is almost permanently positioned down there. Either they’re young or the dance floor has a knack of making them look young. Regardless, Cube guarantees more kicks than a Portuguese footballer plus, the toilets are modern-thinking: Dyson airblades and no toilet attendant (thank God!).

Tabernacle is all things to all people. Because it can. Because it wants to. And because you want it. For those that prefer sitting down, there’s the restaurant; for those that are still learning to shave, there’s da club; and for all those that are considering their first mortgage, there’s the bar. Mental venues such as these are quite rare in these parts so go eat, drink and dance, you fools. Do as you’re told!

606 Club

90 Lots Road, Chelsea, SW10 0QD

Dinghy, cramped and a bugger to find: exactly what you’d expect from a perky little jazz club. That, and Osama Bin Laden’s hideout, maybe. Jazz nuts often allude to that crucial element of ‘cool’ when referring to their preferred pastime and 606 has just that, by the bundle, piled up in big stacks marked ‘Excess Cool’. With a pedigree that pre-dates the invention of Darth Vadar, Freddie Lundberg and Never Mind The Bollocks Here’s The Sex Pistols, 606 is New Orleans soul transposed to the industrial back alleys of Chelsea Harbour. And in doing so it pokes a knowing finger into the shoulder of homogenised jazz-joints like Ronnie Scott’s, saying ‘Hey you. Be cool’.

You will not find the curious archway entrance. It will find you. Just don’t be late. There’s an air of mystery upon entry: intercoms, buzzers, gates, ominous stairs that look like they want to kill you. A beatnik basement is waiting just around the corner to clobber you with the Speakeasy stick. Bare-brick walls, low ceilings, red drapes and tatty tables cluster in a space the size of this sentence. Roughly 100 people squash onto tiny tables congregated around the magic. How in the name of Thelonious Monk they managed to squeeze a grand piano (et al) in there as well is beyond me. This is cosy, but not in a Northern Line sort of way. More a snug jazz blanket sort of way.

You couldn’t get more up-close-and-personal with the artistes as they practice their musical sorcery without being forced to comment on their body odour. Which is highly likely as even a sumo wrestler taking an Egyptian sauna in the middle of summer doesn’t sweat as much as these guys. No wonder; they play at speeds that could’ve only been taught to them by aliens from the future. These musicians finish their set weighing half as much as when they started it. That translates to pure rabid passion, for any simpletons out there.

The worshippers in the crowd are sub-zero cool. These are the people you want to BE. These are real people. Their diversity embarrasses you. Their lack of pretension seems almost newborn. It’s like you’ve stepped into the university of “You Dig?” and expect to come out of it with a honours degree in Inner Beauty. Perhaps if you sit close enough their aura will rub off on you. Couples get intimate, a chap in a hat at the back taps his lap, everyone sips wine. There’s clapping and laughing and chatting and smiles and reactionary dancing and prancing and love floating all around the room.

The food and drink on offer are adequately fulfilling and you should appropriately get involved. However, physical sustenance plays second fiddle, trumpet, trombone and piano to the true nourishment: jazz. Plush decor and fine dining, on your bike. Who cares what shade of egg shell-white the walls are, this is all about life, so light that music up!!

Met Bar

Metropolitan Hotel, Old Park Lane W1K 1LB

What does your average Londoner yearn for in a modern drinking venue? Stylish surroundings? Flamboyant libations? A crowd that still has all its own teeth? Most people try to seek out that little hidden extra, that ingredient X. The trouble is Met Bar simply doesn’t have it. It’s all so very, very nice. The food is nice, the people are nice, the drinks are nice, the music is nice. The floor? That’s nice. The toilets? Yep, they’re nice. Everything is nice. Upon entering Met Bar you’re ‘met’ by a wall of niceness. Which isn’t always that nice, really.

This is a hotel bar right on Park Lane. That’s Mayfair, the most expensive property on a Monopoly board, so you’d expect a certain degree of élan. Plus, it’s right next door to Nobu so it’s bound to throw up big balls of panache just to keep up with the Joneses. It has a reputation for attracting the odd celebrity. The trouble is it goes on about it. It’s like one of those people that hark on about ‘the time they met Mick Jagger’. Well whoopee doo. Those years are well gone my ailing friend, change the tune will ya! Personally, I’ve been to Met Bar twice and I’ve spotted a grand total of one celebrity. And even that was only Carl Fogerty. Yeh exactly, WHO??! Kylie, Kate and the Kings of Leon have apparently all visited, but they were probably staying at the hotel at the time and couldn’t be bothered to leave the premises.

Do you think when Neil Armstrong took that giant leap for mankind he might’ve been thinking, “It’s a bit empty out here. Not to mention uninhabited. But by golly it’s beautiful.” Well, welcome to Met Bar, Mr Armstrong. Great to look at but totally rigamortis dead. There was more atmosphere on the surface of Mars than there was on the Friday evening we went. Allegedly, it gets thumping around 11pm so if you are intending on going, make it a late one.

The clientele are a mixed bunch of people - mostly well dressed, some young, some old, some who are old but have stretched themselves young. Musically, the immediate vibe is of the cheddar, brie or Red Leicester variety. An odd mix of house, electro, rock, hiphop and 80's classics. We heard Prefab Sprout, The Cure, Van Halen and The Kaiser Chiefs all in the same night. It’s difficult to know whether that’s good or bad.

The Met Bar is small and the decor is bright and unobtrusive. There’s red leather booths for the luxury hogs, bar stools for the practiced drinkers, and plenty of mirrored walls for the egomaniacs. And that’s about it. It lacks its own entrance and there is no discernible sign so you find yourself asking the question “Am I in the right place and is this leading to somewhere happening?”

On the plus side.....the food is delightfully appertising and the cocktail list is expensive yet reassuringly extensive. Regarding the former, the vegetable tempura is possible the best in London and it’s accompanied by London’s saltiest soya sauce, too. The addition of the new Midnight Menu negates the need to stumble out of a taxi towards your local kebab house at 2am as there’s Kentish Salt Marsh lamb kebab with sweet pepper tabbouleh, edamame and hummus on offer at The Met. Plus, the tiny individual jars of hot english mustard and ketchup left on your table make perfect souvenirs (in the bag they go!).

Regarding the drinks, the bar is backed by three shelves, EACH with around forty bottles on them. By my calculations that means they have exactly what you’re looking for. Although Met is ostensibly known for its martinis, the nice man behind the bar reassures that rum and tequila are making a comeback and as such a new menu will be out in 2009 to evoke your memories. The Polish vodka and liqueur ‘Honey Dew’ is a winner, as is the as-yet-unnamed bourbon drink made with liquified palm sugar and aged sake.

Overall, without the food and drink, it’s high time you reached for the cord with ‘Get Me The Hell Out Of Here And Make It Snappy’ written on it.

The Eagle

215 Askew Road, Shepherd’s Bush W12 9AZ

Open up the door to your imagination and realise the inevitability of the future. Picture a place not too dissimilar to Islington, Clapham or Westbourne Park where young, culturally-developed people whittle away Sunday afternoons at their local, yawning, stretching, gorging on gastro grub and generally spilling a variety of well-known beers across their broadsheets. This is Geronimo Inns’ futuristic vision of Ravenscourt Park, hence the addition of pub number 22 to their portfolio. These chaps are well versed in the dark arts of the publican. In 2007 they won the Evening Standard Pub of the Year award with Mile End’s Morgan Arms, plus they were gifted the Catey Pub and Bar award in 2008.

The Eagle is instantly recognisable as a Geronimo fledgeling and were it not so trite one might be inclined to say something like ‘The Eagle has landed’ at this juncture. For a start, there’s bookshelves everywhere. They’re all over the shop, dormantly laden with both real and faux reading material. This is common practice with Geronimo and The Eagle has all the usual markings: hulking wine list; separate dining area; objet d’art scattered throughout; and a healthy obsession with stylish lampshades, modern art, Chesterfield armchairs and mirrors which exude the allusion of expanse (not that The Eagle needs it). Added to these are the uniquely-Eagle accoutrements: an open coal fire; a head full of wifi; and a plasma TV NOT connected to Sky and therefore mostly, and so thankfully, turned off.

The overall atmosphere is as laid-back as a pride of lions in slacks. The entrance side is more inclined towards large scale banter, the far side near the men’s loos conducive to secluded board games and intimate liaisons. The designers obviously had a long, drawn-out autumnal encounter with the Dulux dog as the colour scheme is both warm and subtle. Think obstinate ochre, purposeful pea green, tactful taupe, and melancholy mud.

To quench the palate there’s a big man’s-handful of beers on tap and a wine list that goes the whole nine yards. In fact, it’s gone the whole nine yards and then done a lap of honour just for good measure with its creator, John Clevely, doing a jig along the way. He’s a Master of Wine, you know, and they’re the Jedis of the wine world: rare and omniscient.

Towards the rear is the restaurant where traditional British comfort food of the ‘chorizo, black pudding & quails egg salad’ school of thought is served. Here you’ll discover an anorexic menu that is really, really, really, really, really, really.....average. Really. Which is unusual for Geronimo. They are the Lewis Hamilton of pub dining but at The Eagle they’ve started off in pole position then careened round the first corner, clunked a wing and ended up fastly approaching a brick wall head-first.

There are many websites on the t’internet that actively encourage the use of the word ‘moist’ but Fluidfoundation isn’t one of them. Not when we’re talking about food, that is. The mash is wet. The crab on toast is damp. The lamb with anchovy relish is stodgy. The deep-fried mushrooms are clammy. The sea bass with fennel puree is soggy, but then that should be. Potatoes? Mum could’ve done better. Greens? Veer very much on the yellow side of green. The desserts therefore trump the ‘which course is best’ competition, especially with the hazelnut and muscavado tart. So far, so decidedly ordinary.

But wait for the pièce de résistance, the masterpiece of merriment, the grace that doth save: the garden. If this were a visit to the movies, everything thus far would just be trailers. Once you step into the quiet, Alice In Wonderland garden you’re now experiencing the main feature. This garden has private function written all over it. You may feel the urge to ‘perambulate’ along the new paving, in an old-fashioned sort of way, passing the pillar-like trees, the sturdy granite alfresco-dining tables and the outdoor summer bar. The tidy lawn begs for a croquet set and the caste iron street lamps add antiquity to its edges. On ye go to the swinging picnic benches, amusingly shaped like a train set.

Ravenscourt, Ravenscourt, come in Ravenscourt. Hello, is anyone out there?!! No, not yet. So for now The Eagle will have to make do with locals and nearby media offices for custom. It’s such a LONG way from anything that looks remotely like public transport.
In essence, extraordinary garden: check. Quick and courteous service: check. Inspiring interior: check. Adequate gastro fuel: check. Mediocre, middle-of-bleeding-nowhere location: check. A future left waiting for the world to catch up: most definitely.

Fence

What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?

Time to get a new fence.

Satay House

13 Sale Place, Paddington W2 1PX

As you step from the quiet Paddington street and in through the door of Satay House you’d be forgiven for thinking you’d entered the wrong door. This is THE Satay House? The Malaysian dining experience to the stars? Where Malays come for Malaysian food? Where stars as famous as Jimmy Choo, Don Johnson and Michelle Yeoh are reputed to have eaten, as well as Malaysian royalty? But it’s more like a bathroom showroom! Surely there’s been some kind of mistake. It seems they’ve poo-poo’d the idea of a reception area or welcoming desk as you’re immediately stood right in someone’s dinner. The acoustics are ideal; for screaming babies that is - hard floors and hard ceilings, eeek - and the decor isn’t too spicy either. Apparently there was a refurb back in 2006 but a bit of soft lighting, a few hibiscus flowers stenciled on the walls, and some newly-upholstered leather doesn’t maketh the giant it claims to be. So you ask yourself why you came here in the first place. What is it that attracts them? Then you notice the staff turning customers away at the door as they’re fully booked. You decide to stay and call their bluff.

You’ve heard the only way to choose a starter is to go for the one the restaurant is named after, so you opt for six skewers of tender chicken and lamb served with a peanut sauce, cucumber and rice cubes. So far, so satay.

Moving onto the main you’ve heard that things must be done in the right order. You don’t want to be spoiling your sweet tomato lush lamb stuff (Mutton Mysore) by then having the frankly-not-up-to-scratch deep fried chicken (Ayam Goreng Bawang Putih) so you leave it till last. It’s probably for the best. In fact, you skip the fried chicken altogether and say hello to the unmistakably-fragrant whole mackerel in tamarind sauce (Ikan Panggang). You crack her open, squeeze on a bit of lemon and job done. You supplement this with a small, repeat SMALL, portion of rice and a small, repeat SMALL, serving of stir fried choi sum in oyster sauce and chilli (Sawi Goreng) just so your five-a-day are covered. Things are looking up.

Next, you move onto the aromatic prawn dish (Udang Galah Goreng Berempah) and discover it’s got a yummy after bite. Suddenly, phrases like ‘top notch’ and ‘flippin marvelous’ seem redundant and you aim to start comprising a brand new dictionary first thing Monday morning. Overall, jobs a goodun.

But wait, the young, affable waiter is trying to ply you with desserts. Thank goodness you went small on the rice. A tall knickerbocker glory monstrosity approaches you. It’s the Ais Kacang (sweet red beans, creamed sweet corn, shaved ice, red syrup and evaporated milk). It’s refreshing after that spicy, but not too spicy, mountain you just munched through and you say ‘WOW’ in appreciation. Had it been chilly outside you would’ve gone for the Bubur Pulut Hitam hot purple glop with coconut milk and black rice because that’s what gets results, you’ve heard.

Satay House is a tiny establishment and the additional seating in the basement is much needed (although the distracting TV isn’t). This family business does everything the bigger boys do, almost. Aside from not having a tasting menu (shame), in an all-out taste race between Satay House and Kensington’s Awana, the sprint gold would be a photo finish. If it were the dressage event, however, Satay House would be going home with silver.
If you’re slepping around zone 1 looking for somewhere to eat, don’t bother just turning up! BOOK before you go! People get turned away and there are hour-long waits. One big birthday party downstairs and the whole kit and kaboodle is messed up.

Overall, it’s a bit like Amy Winehouse: not much to look at, but hidden qualities definitely lie within.

Eight Great London Art Collections

Whilst The National, Tate Britain and the V&A might have the international notoriety, there are still many more historical art collections in London to get excited about.

Kenwood House
Kenwood House is the complete package: big name collection, architecturally marvelous and blessed with a killer view of the metropolis. The Scottish neoclassicist, Robert Adam, redesigned this quiet suburban villa in the 18th century and thanks to him it’s been featured in many a movie (Notting Hill, 101 Dalmations). Vermeers, Rembrandts, Turners and Gainsboroughs battle for supremacy indoors but the vibrant red colour scheme of the Great Room surely deserves the biggest “wow”. The picturesque lakeside parklands pull a few surprises too: Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth sculptures alongside the odd real-life artist utilizing the inspiring scenery. A stroll is therefore mandatory. The meals at the courtyard Brew House cafe are clearly popular, the locals come by the dozen. But don’t fret, it doesn’t get too busy, even on weekends. Leave the rental car at home, though, as parking is limited. Overall, a couple of hours well spent in the AM, leaving the PM for meandering around the trendy Hampstead area. Well done The English Heritage for doing such a good job of maintaining it.
www.english-heritage.org.uk

The Wallace Collection
This is one of London’s best kept secrets, so let’s keep it that way. Not unlike The National Gallery, but thankfully without the throng of humanity. 28 rooms and 5,500 objects, far too much to be seen in just one go; so plan for a second visit and be sure to take advantage of the free tours that occur almost daily. The overall feeling is French: sculptures, Boulle furniture, Sèvres porcelain, and oodles of French 17th and 18th century objets d'art. Added to these are a variety of temporary exhibitions, medieval and Renaissance armor (some of which you can try on) and resident paintings by Velàzquez, Reynolds, Delacroix and van Dyck (dont miss ‘The Laughing Cavalier’ by Hals). £10m was spent on this Edwardian mansion in recent years. The result? New galleries AND a new restaurant. Overseen by Oliver Peyton—who also runs the dining experiences at The National, The ICA and Fulham Palace—The Wallace Restaurant is dramatically lit by a spectacular glass atrium. The menu is understandably French and the service can be a bit hit-and-miss.

www.wallacecollection.org

Estorick Collection
This is the UK’s only museum dedicated solely to Italian art. Housed in a grade II listed restored Georgian villa, this collection of Italian paintings, drawings, etchings and sculpture is small, very niche and of limited range. Six galleries contain some temporary exhibits but the nucleus of the permanent work rests with the early 20th century Futurists Balla, Boccioni, Carrá, Serverini and Russolo. There are works by other artist that’re worth a peak; especially Modigliani’s famous "Retrato del doctor François Brabander’ portrait. If you’re an Italo-art nut then the art library is probably worth checking out (by appointment only though), but if your interests are more broad then the bookshop is a leisurely diversion. So too is the landscaped garden cafe which during the summer is perfect for those alfresco lunches. If the weather is less clement, head to The Marquess Tavern which is round the corner on Canonbury Street. The Marquess is constantly found lurking around those ‘Gastropub of the Year’ lists and is reputed to serve the best roast beef in the whole of the UK.
www.estorickcollection.com

Dulwich Picture Gallery
A large and venerable collection of 17th and 18th century European masters. So if you like Rembrandt, Murillo, Poussin, Watteau, Canaletto, Rubens, Van Dyck, Cuyp, Gainsborough, Raphael, Reynolds or Hogarth, prepare to be happy. The famous Victorian architect, Sir John Soanes, designed it and it was the first purpose-built public art gallery in the world. There are a handful of temporary exhibits each year but these are scant due to the permanent collection’s prolificness. It’s not far from the the vibrant up-and-coming Dulwich village and there’s a handful of quality eateries close by; like the modern European Beauberry House or the high-end Rosendale gastropub. The gallery cafe menu is a tad flavorless and probably only good for lighter lunches and chocolate cake. As the gallery is only a half-hour stroll through Dulwich Park, combine your visit with a trip to the Horniman Museum. Alternatively, try visiting on the evening of the third Thursday in the month as it stays open late especially for films, music, art activities and curatorial talks based around a central theme. Their snazzy new website is very useful, too.
www.dulwichpicturegallery.org.uk

The Fleming Collection
Probably the most worthy collection of Scottish art outside of Scotland itself. This is like a visit to the National Gallery of Scotland without the longhaul flight to Edinburgh. Scottish artists are notoriously overlooked in all of London’s major galleries and the Fleming Collection attempts to redress the balance. Originally a private corporate collection dating back over 40 years, The Fleming went public in 2002. Its oils, watercolours and sculptures date back from the late 1700s right up to the present day and include a substantial gathering of the Glasgow Boys—such as George Henry and John Lavery, the Scottish Colourists—Samuel John Peploe and Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell, and the Edinburgh School—William Gillies and Sir William McTaggart. In addition to the continual showcases, the museum holds up to four Scottish-themed temporary exhibits every year. What’s especially worth knowing, too, is that the American-style brasserie, Automat, is only a few hundreds metres around the corner.
www.flemingcollection.co.uk

The De Morgan
Unless you’re specifically a fan of the De Morgans—William and Evelyn—this might be too much of a trek. As it’s in Wandsworth, which is south west London proper, you might need a secondary reason for venturing so far: the Michelin star restaurant, Chez Bruce, on Wandsworth Common would suffice. The De Morgan Centre for the Study of 19th Century Art and Society, to give it its full name, has been open since 2002 and permanently shows works by the Victorian couple; aside from the very occasional programme of contemporary designers. His ceramics have been seen in the British Museum and the V&A, her paintings are obsessesed with colour. Enough to lure you? Well, the building itself is a former reference library built in celebration of Queen Victoria’s jubilee and has a particularly interesting wooden ceiling wich is worth noting. It’s also only open four days a week so check before travelling.
www.demorgan.org.uk

The Queen’s Gallery
This is the ultimate Nosey Nelly experience. 9000 pieces comprise the entire Royal Collection and yet The Queen’s Gallery can only hold about 400 of those. The problem, how to select from 500 years of collecting when the display venue is so tiny? The answer is twofold: high rotation and themed exhibits. The former is shared with locations such as Windsor Castle and Clarence House whilst the latter is usually guest-curated; recently Sir David Attenborough gathered works involving the world of nature. Some might feel a bit chagrined at paying the sizable entrance fee for seeing only part of the wider collection but what you’re buying into here is a wealth of quality and serious depth. Paintings, ceramics, furniture, sculpture, jewelry, drawings and a particularly fondness for the Old Masters. Plus, it’s worth noting the gallery was given a £20m expansion in 2002 which beefed up the square footage so there should be plenty to nose around. The Royal Mews next door are also fully operational and thus offer an interesting appendage.
www.royalcollection.org.uk

Somerset House
This one is a bit of a cheat as it’s actually two separate collections in one; a one-stop shop for museum lovers. Positioned poetically between the calm waters of the Thames and the hustle and bustle of London’s famous Strand, this grand palatial Neoclassic building should keep everyone interested. The first, and possibly most famous, stop-off is the Courtauld Institute of Art Gallery which includes impressionists like Monet and Gauguin as well as 20th century icons such as Matisse. It also boasts Van Gogh’s ‘Self Portrait with Bandaged Ear’. Just across the fabulous courtyard and beneath the vaulted arches is the new (April 08) 750m² Embankment Galleries which hopes to bring a contemporary flavour to the equation with subject matter ranging from fashion and design to photography and architecture.
www.somersethouse.org.uk

Brasserie Roux

Hotel Sofitel, Heathrow Terminal 5

It is true, Brasserie Roux can be found at Terminal 5. Only 21 minutes from Central London. According to their PR agents. Somehow I find that hard to believe. What about the journey to Paddington to catch the Heathrow Express? Or the ten minute walk through the shiny corridors and endless escalators of T5’s Arrivals area? It’s probably fair to say that Brasserie Roux is not 21 minutes from Central London at all. But it IS fair to say that Brasserie Roux’s unfortunate location is effectively its only flaw. Not everyone will get to ride this pony but if you are eating here it’s extremely likely you’ll already be in the vicinity. This is businessman country and it’s easy to envisage great herds of suits making this a regular feeding hole in the not-too-distant future. Especially as a five-star hotel, 1000-capacity conference centre and brand new airport have been propitiously built around the restaurant.
There are scenes often used in movies which portray the step-up to the afterlife like some kind of subdued waiting lounge. Quiet background announcements, soft music, bright clean walls, and God, possibly played by Morgan Freeman, sat silently in a pure white suit, admiring the golden-hued sunshine beaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Well, that’s Brasserie Roux; only with better food.

This brand spanking 80-seater is an oasis in a modern space, cleverly slotted between between two separate wings of the Sofitel Hotel. You tend to notice the high ceiling, the mirrors, the red curtains, the mirrors, the leather benches, the mirrors, the room within a room, the mirrors and the strategically-placed water features and faux palm trees that create a soothing atmos and conveniently disguise the stunning view of the Western Perimeter Overpass BEFORE you notice the food. And you’d have them fellas that did that Burj al Arab Dubai hotel to thank for that.

Gastronomic celeb restaurateur, Albert Roux OBE, whose main hobby is collecting Michelin stars, waved his magic wand of brilliance over Brasserie and turned everything a little bit Roux. He’s not all that bad either; he won the 2008 Silver Catey award with brother Michael, beating off opposition from upstarts like Gordon Ramsay, Marco Pierre White and Sir Terence Conran. As such, the menu couldn’t be more French even if it fashioned cufflinks out of garlic and married a supermodel.

The starters are a traditional roll call: duck foie gras, check; terrine du jour, check; lobster bisque, you’d be Le Bonkers not to check. Or there’s the mushroom purée and pike mousse, which the charming maitre D’ will insist you try.

The mains’ll come at you with words like sole limande meunière and cuisse de canard but whilst they are adequately alluring there is only one phrase you really need to know: Châteaubriant pour deux personnes sauce à la bordelaise, s'il vous plaît. Heavenly beef delivered on a trolley, carved right in front of you and served with a Jenga-like chip stacks. Just remember, the chef IS French so asking for ‘medium rare’ will affectively mean it’ll walk right up to your table by itself.

Desserts, just skip them, although the charming maitre D’ will insist you try the chocolate crème brulée. Instead, dive right into the honking cheese trolley. Oh, how the cheese trolley reigns supreme! Cantal and Roquefort are prominent silver medalists but the overall big cheese has to be the Livarot, aka The Colonel. It’s soft and strong and oddly reminiscent of a farmyard. And not some wet, muddy English farmyard either; no, this is a sun-drenched French farmyard that smells of hay and childhood revelry.

Wine connoisseurs, take note: knowledgeable staff hand pick wines that accompany every course, naturally from a trolley. Obviously Franco-leaning, especially the by-the-glass options, but the thick tome of worldly wines by the bottle takes in the Americas, the Antipodes, the Mediterraneans and many more. There’s a whole page of champers, French regionals, and even one bottle priced at £1600. Business account, HELLO! For the non-wine connoisseurs, here’s a simple tip: go with the Croze Hermitage. White or red, it doesn’t matter, as long as it matches the dish.

Overall, it’s the little touches that make Brasserie Roux so delicious: the detailed cheese menu; the TVs above the lavatory hand dryers; the private chef’s table with fog-switch viewing window to keep an eye on the chefs. Brassier Roux is good enough to abandon the idea of returning straight home after your long haul flight and to extend that holiday for at least another couple of hours. Alternatively, if you’re lucky enough to be leaving the UK, tell your boss he’s/she’s a having a laugh if he/she thinks you’re getting up at 3am for the red eye flight to Boring ConferenceVille. You would, however, consider the trip if it involved a leisurely night at the Sofitel and dinner at Brasserie Roux. Failing that, resign.

Detroit Social Club

As printed in the September edition of Clash magazine.

You know how the story goes: boy with voice meets boy with guitar who has a couple of mates that can play drums and keyboard. A band is formed, an image created, and only then do they start making music. Not so with Detroit Social Club. This tale is different: boy creates idea, idea gets well received, boy then seeks professional aides to complete the setup. The music is already present. Ostensibly, DSC is a solo project - one David Burn - that happens to have an attachment: a band. If this were the movies, Burn would be the auteur. He alone sees it from spark to roaring fire. As a whole entity, the six-piece DSC have only been together for a few months, yet Burn believes “this project has actually been alive for over a year, from when I first started demo-ing this sort of sound”.

Burn hails from Newcastle, where he’s been producing other studio bands for many years and where he first started to toy with his ideas. But although his roots are in Newcastle, Burn’s sound does not evoke the claustrophobic, narrow back corridors of his home town. His is the raw, expansive terrain of Kerouac America; the sound of Thelma and Louise hurtling along the highway of gospel soul, in search of a rainbow made of just blues.

“I had this new sound I wanted to experiment with” says Burns, in a broad North East accent, “I started getting into Americana. Not necessarily any particular bands, but more an overall interest.”

If there are comparisons to be made, then the obvious choices would be the hazy psychedelia of BRMC (‘Black & White’), the hiphop harmonisation of Beck (‘Soldiers’), the strutting riffs of Kasabian (‘Sunshine People’’) and the smoking distortion of Nick Cave (‘Forever Wonderland’); all fronted by Burn’s own rasping Kelly Jones vocal (‘My Love For You Goes On’). Despite these primary parallels, Burns quickly, and obliquely, dispels the notion of mimicry. “One of the strongest things about our music” he exclaims, proudly, “is that it’s not so much about songs but about a certain vibe, character and authenticity.”

DSC’s diverse range could be perceived as negative, something that will confuse listeners, but equally it could be indicative of humankind’s mercurial nature. “A song captures your mindset on one particular day,” says Burns, who denounces the idea of recording non-stop for long periods of time. “It’s so generic and fake. How can you capture different moods in one month?” Lucky for him, he’s able to write and record in the same moment, being already tied to a studio.

The rate of propulsion has been astonishingly quick for DSC. First, the demos; then, the label interest (from the likes of Independiente); followed by a swift formation of the band in order to translate the live experience. Within weeks there were mini tours, a support slot with Glasvegas, a top ‘unsigned’ chart spot in a national paper, and even a placing in the final of Channel 4’s Road To V competition. The latter invitation was politely declined, though, a decision Burn still doesn’t regret - “I wouldn’t want DSC to be introduced to anyone by means of winning a competition.”

Fervour and anticipation have been growing ever since, as has DSC’s team of notoriety. Geoff Barrowdale, manager of Arctic Monkeys, is now pulling the strings. “He’s brilliant, we’re really lucky to have him,” Burn reveals, providing the distinction, “the honeymoon period is over and we just want to move on to saying he’s not the Monkeys’ manager, he’s our manager.”

Added to DSC’s solid team is the co-production input of Mike Crossey, also known for balancing the creativity of Razorlight, Foals and the Dead 60s. DSC’s rising success is therefore almost assured and they’re pointing in all the right directions. During the summer there’s a scheduled jaunt to the States “just to get a presence known” before returning home for a promising winter. Work on the album begins in November which is preceded in October by the release of their hypnotic single, ‘Rivers & Rainbows’.

London's best jazz clubs

As seen on Spire.com

Whilst the historical Ronnie Scott's might be London’s most renowned jazz club, it has lost much of its former glory since going under new mamangement in recent times. For a more authentic groovy night out, check out some of London’s other musical hot spots.

1) 606 Club
A slice of New Orleans soul, only in London. The 606 has got pedigree, it’s been around for 30 years, and it’s right up there with the big boys as one of London’s best. Jazz fans often refer to that all-important element of ‘cool’ and The 606 has it in abundance. This is how jazz clubs should be: hard to find (set in an industrial neighbourhood near Chelsea Harbour’s back alleys); an up-close and personal vibe with the artistes; plus, cosy without being crowded. Even gaining entry has an element of mystery to it. At the gated archway you’re buzzed in via an intercom before descending a staircase into a bare-brick basement. What you find is beatnik chic - all low ceilings, rough concrete, dusty curtains, and scruffy tables gathered around a non-stage (the band performs on your level). The food and wine selection are nothing to write home about but the grilled halibut fillet with tomato coulis, fennel and zuchini is worth trying. Plus, there’s roughly a dozen of each wine color to try. 

www.606club.co.uk

2) The Pigalle Club
The Pigalle couldn’t be more central if it tried. Perfect if, like me, you love Mayfair and Regent Street. Vince Power is in charge; he who founded the Mean Fiddler Group which owns a large chunk of London’s music venues. Basically, he knows what he’s doing. The subterranean 1940s supper club authenticity is picture perfect. Table service comes from staff dressed in costumes befitting the era, the wood and mirror decor is indicative of the glitz and glam of old, and occasionally big name acts such as Van Morrison, Ertha Kitt and Shirley Bassey grace the stage (if not them, then the glut of rising lounge and jazz talent will easily wow you). It’s quite a big venue but owing to its peculiar shape it still has that cosy feeling I like so much about jazz clubs. The modern European menu really plays second fiddle to the music, so grab a spot on the mezzanine for the best view of the stage (the side view can be a little restricted).

www.vpmg.net/pigalle


3) The Dover Street Restaurant & Bar
Great for gals looking for a fun night out with girlfriends. Don’t be fooled into thinking that just because this venue is in Mayfair it’ll be class and elegance all the way. This is one for the masses. The service is unpredictable, the French/European cuisine is decidely average, the bar area is nearly always limited for space, and it can feel a bit like dining in a nightclub. Yes, this is definitely not a civilsed event. Despite all this, however, the music is excellent. Every night there’s a real party atmosphere due to a blend of jazz, blues, latin and soul and once you’ve eaten your mediocre dinner you’re encouraged to dance the night away. It did win Visit London’s Gold Award for Live Entertainment in 2005 and has been running for 28 years so something has to be working.

www.doverst.co.uk


4) Le Quecum Bar & Brasserie
This is the quintessential ‘hidden gem’. I’d heard this place was on the left side of leftfield and I wasn’t dissapointed. It’s location is very anti-West End - just across the river from Fulham and Chelsea - which gives it an added bohemian edge. It’s ornately decorated to look like a 1920s Parisian wine bar and has a secluded patio area to give it that sud de la France aura. The food is typically French - snails, pate, beef bourguignon, coq au vin and alike - as is the wine. The staff love their music and will chatter about it non-stop given the chance. This does mean their level of service can dip occasionally though and the waitressing is notoriously slow. But, much like the Dover Street bar, this is all about the music and the atmosphere and passionate bands play Django Reinhardt’s casual Hot Club gypsy jazz, which makes it London’s only venue to do so.

www.quecumbar.co.uk


5) Octave
What’s great about this small and sophisticated venue is that it not only offers fantastic live music six nights a week but it’s also a great place to drink and dine. I thoroughly recommend the cuisine, which has a modern European slant, especially for its presentation and quality. As long as they’re still on the menu, opt for the fried chorizo entrée followed by the butterfish with mashed potato main: delicious. The service is attentive but not cloying and the cocktail list is impressive with some 70+ to choose from. Tucked away in a quiet part of Covent Garden, Octave is a relative newcomer to London having only been open since 2004. This doesn’t mean it’s unpopular though; quite the opposite. It can get very busy, especially at weekends, so arrive early and book a table ahead of time. The crowd is trendy and laid back, but annoyingly some people tend to chat during the performances. Check their website before you go to see who's playing as the acts can vary in taste.

www.octave8.com

7) Vortex Jazz
If you’re adamantly traditional about your jazz, it might be best to avoid Vortex. If, however, you’re open to a few fresh, progressive ideas then the word comes on great authority that Vortex has a distinct blend of styles, age and ethnicity. Contemporary jazz is the agenda, in a broad range of formats. Folky, improv, world, big band - it’s all there and names like Sir John Dankworth and Dame Cleo Laine, Evan Parker, Tim Berne, F-IRE Collective, Polar Bear and Zoe Rahmann have all made an appearance or two. Despite being 21 years old, Vortex has a noticeable young vibe and is almost too fashionable for its own good; which is indicative of the Dalston area itself, hastily becoming THE trendy hangout in the capital. The interior is fairly standard - romantic candlelit tables and butt-numbing furniture - but the large blue glass fronting is very unique, in a fishbowl sort of way. On the down side the bar is limited, at best, and the toilet situation could be a lot better.

www.vortexjazz.co.uk


8) The Boisdale Jazz & Cigar Club
Simply put, The Boisdale’s main concerns are meat, smoke, whisky and jazz. If you’re not particularly fussed by at least two of these then The Boisdale will not be to your liking. OK yes, it is primarily a restaurant and yes, it is a members club but that shouldn’t deter you from witnessing some traditional jazz. For a nominal ‘jazz charge’, non-members are allowed to dine in the restaurant or position themselves at the bar after 10pm to see the house band - Richard Pite’s Boisdale Blue Rhythm Band, a quartet/quintet playing 30s-50s old style jazz and blues. Be warned, booking a spot at the bar is not an option. So, dinner it is then. The fare is mainly Scotland-sourced so steak and wild salmon are a must, unless the haggis and neeps take your fancy. This is a Belgravia townhouse and as such is just moments away from The Palace - yes, THAT Palace - so naturally it exudes class and sophistication. Chesterfield sofas are filled with business folk, ex-pats and university graduates, many of whom will retire to the cigar terrace on the top floor to sample one of the hundreds of Cubans available. And then there’s the cocktails, wines and whiskies; again, literally hundreds to choose from.

www.boisdale.co.uk


9) Pizza on the Park & Jazz @ Pizza Express
Ignore the doubts that the word ‘pizza’ might cast upon your assumptions. Although this is far from the glitz and glamour of Ronnie Scott’s or The Pigalle, this pairing packs a big punch when it comes to music. Especially Jazz @ Pizza Express which has, in recent years, welcomed venerable guests such as Roy Haynes, Kenny Garrett, Scott Hamilton, Norah Jones, Jamie Cullum, Diana Krall, Amy Winehouse, and Peter Cincotti. Clearly, pizza is not the only thing on people’s mind. It had a refurb a few years back, which was probably needed seeing as it’s been going since 1965. The stage is tiny so you really get that up-close-and-personal aspect that many of the larger clubs dont have, which is great considering it’s in the heart of the West End. Unlike Jazz @ Pizza Express, Pizza on the Park in not a seven-day-a-week jazz joint. The performers are usually lesser known and only appear a couple of times a week. It is, however, a candlelit basement but of much larger proportions. As it’s owned by the same booking company, it too had a major renovation a little while ago. The menu is simple and Italian and the wine list covers both new and old world quite well for a pizza place.

www.pizzaexpresslive.co.uk


10) The Brickhouse
Although not strictly a jazz-only establishment, this restaurant-cum-supper club is still well worth a visit. Especially as it’s housed in such an interesting building and located in such an intriguing part of town. The converted warehouse space in Brick Lane’s Old Truman Brewery is long, tall and unusually bright for this sort of venue. It’s set on three levels with the upper most of these acting almost as a viewing gallery....with beds! The entertainment varies from week to week so check their webpage before venturing - sharing the billing with jazz acts are circus acrobats, sexy burlesque dancers, hip hop choreographers and comedians. Tip: opt for the dining experience on the middle floor and choose the red mullet with crab tortellini and Bouillabaisse sauce.

www.thebrickhouse.co.uk

The Hoxton Pony

104-108 Curtain Road, Shoreditch

May 2008 was the date when the winds changed direction. One tatty Pool bar was badly in need of an overhaul (I dare you to argue otherwise) and along came a spot of talent, a dash of vision and a suitcase bursting with cash. Et voila, c’est la shifting winds. One Gerry Calabrese - former overlord to joints like Meet, Roast, the Cinnamon Club - joined forces with good pal Andy Pearson - allegedly the reigning UK Bartenders Guild National champion - and cooked up a big fat juicy pie of distinction. The crust of this pie was a smartly designed interior with a music-based filling. The designer - a former Ralph Lauren creative boffin - was given a handful of tunes and told “do that, but in bar form”. What he returned with was class without the la-di-da; neither ridiculous opulence nor shabby chic. Whilst seventy grand was spent just on glass alone, a load of scrap metal was whacked in as well to give it some of that juxtaposition stuff.

The upstairs is 60s conceptual art masquerading as non-coherent mess; but that’s the point. This is really an art installation that happens to serve the odd drink or two. I was befriended at the bar by a drunk trying to make sense of the stuffed owl scene behind it. See, sounds intriguing, right?

The descent into the basement cant make up its mind which after-life it likes best: big mirrors and white floors sing praises to the heavens yet at the same time it’s hotter than the Devil’s toaster. The floor has been sunk specifically for the purpose of boogey so I’m inclined to think the latter.

To say the music policy is broad would be like saying kids are rather partial to sweets. The DJ gobs out the full gamut of genres so if you’re looking to get into indie-rock, dub-dance ,ska-soul, kitsch-pop, beatbox, downbeat, upbeat, backbeat or deadbeat then this could well be your way in. And needless to say, as it’s Shoreditch, they’re required by law to play electro after midnight.

In terms of booze they have beers, wines, blah, blah and COCKTAILS!!! Boy, do they have cocktails! The Hoxton Ponies invented the world of cocktails. They’ve only been hiding it from us until now because they feared humanity might implode as a result of the shock. I saw a young whippersnapper of a gent naively making a bottle of BoringBeer his chosen beverage for the evening. The fool. You can lead a horse to water but..... This idiot had chosen to ignore the extensive range of bottles on the shelf - who knows what was in them, but it looked mighty impressive - as well as the highly original cocktail wallpaper right next to it. Yes, that’s ‘cocktail’ and ‘wallpaper’. Drink options printed on the wall and changed every 3 months. Meaning, you stare at it, you say “I want it”, you adhere to the element of continual freshness. Got it? It’s like Willa Wonka for adults. Bespoke creations designed by the Oompa-Loompa bar staff using weird science-project infusion liquids from jars that, guess what, they made themselves. Example: the Lady Grey is concocted with an alcoholic tea essence and what appears to be a sprinkle of magic unicorn dust. And they serve drinks in teacups. How delightfully cool.

The food is equally difficult to resist but on this front it’s very much “Oi oi East End boozer” fare. Only with a twist. The open plan kitchen whizzes out great plates until late. Posh pies, posh fish n chips and posh mashy-not-mushy peas. Done.

So who’s there? Should we make sweeping generalisations about ‘Shoreditch types’? Well, if you really have to then knock yourself out (please) but it’s not such a good look any more. Try the ‘something for everyone’ on for size, feels dangerous doesn’t it? Is a mix bag such a bad thing? Tuesday sees pairs of ladies chatting their way through the night. Whereas come Friday, the Liverpool Street suit stranglers and the crazy jeans kids are in town. Overall, the occupancy is favoured heavily in the ladies corner (about 65%) so lads, take note. And of them about 100% are made of sugar and spice and all things nice and roughly 100% of them like to shake their boo-tay. Be mindful though boys, you need to try harder with the threads, you’re letting the side down.

Overall tips: use the side stairs to get to the loos as crossing the perilous dancefloor will ensure your martini ends up covering more of it than you will; plus, save precious eye-catching time by ignoring the wait at the bar and opting for table service instead. “Do you come here often?”

The Valmont Club

266-266a Fulham Road, SW10 9EL

Contemplate, if you will, a little game we’ll call “The manager says...” This is a simple game. All you do is listen to what the manager says and then guess if he’s telling the truth. Then you get a clearer picture about the venue in question; plus an understanding of the inner workings of the manager’s mind which, in this case, belongs to a Frenchman called Thierry.

Thierry says The Valmont is a cocktail club, not a nightclub. He says The Valmont is only for regular members. He says The Valmont is for 25-45 year olds. He says The Valmont expects you to reserve a table. He says The Valmont dishes out an eclectic blend of house, indie, electro, rock, pop, and NOTHING ELSE. He says The Valmont expects you to be dressed smartly. He says The Valmont gets packed early in the evening. He says The Valmont has a ‘discretionary’ charge every time you visit the bar. He says The Valmont does bespoke food for sharing. He says The Valmont has been continually reshaping and redesigning since opening only a year ago. He says The Valmont always gets a 5-star review.

Some of the above has an element of truth, some is slightly fabricated. For example, it’s 11pm and the place is empty. And isn’t that RnB they’re playing? Later, when it starts getting buzzy, everyone there looks like they’re celebrating their A level results - yeh, young. The ladies look fabulous in cocktail dresses though, but the lads disappointingly opt for jeans. At the bar Thierry’s deliciously unique personal concoctions seem cheap at £8.50 a go, but ‘discretionary’ suddenly turns that into £9.56! And if you’re hungry, you better have ordered prior to arriving as the bespoke canapes need shipping in from Putney.

Despite the questionably credibility of SOME of Thierry’s claims there’s no doubt he is (A) passionate about what he does; (B) a thoroughly entertaining chap who’s clearly the best man for the job; (C) a consummate professional who obsessively trains and interacts with his staff so they get the most out The Valmont as well; (D) obsessed with shiny, shiny, shiny black glass - at this rate he’ll be lacquering the urinals soon.

All of this bodes well for The Valmont. This is not your local corner shop of bars. Nor is it the Lidl, the Asda or the hallowed Sainsburys. This is more the Waitrose of the ‘exclusivity and boogie-woogie’ world. Not quite Harrods but it’s not too far off, either.

It’s the kind of place where guests draw attention to themselves by purchasing £350 magnums of Grey Goose vodka then leave them at their table in full view of the knowing crowd. BUT, it’s also the kind of place where Thierry will monitor people coming in at the main door, stopping everyone for a quick chat, ensuring everyone is in the right mood. Basically, if you’re not ‘jolly’ going in, you not jolly going in, not matter who you are. Those aren’t smokers outside, they’re grumpy gits who were turned away.

If Thierry thinks you are chirpy enough to enter, you’ll descend through a faux jungle and under a neon ‘God Save The Queen’ sign. The bar is sleek and small but not claustrophobic, especially as it has a belter of an air con. The separate areas provide you with different levels of schizophrenia: the secluded bead-curtain mini booths with personal volume control are for intimate whispers; the bright white cloud room is for conversations; and the black room, well that’s for shouting. The cocktail list changes by the season but the ones to look out for are the rightfully-named raspberry-&-vanilla ‘Debauchery’ (popular with the lasses) and the rum-&-peach Quick Fix (for the chaps).

As it’s a bit of a trek from the tube, this is a black cab venue, but that’s OK because it’s a communities club, so it’s going to be out in the communities.

We’ll give it 4 stars Thierry, but don’t take our word for it.....

Bluu Bar

4 Moorgate EC2R 6DA

You don’t need me to tell you about Bluu’s appearance. It’s clear enough from the wordy description above [Bluu’s PR agents doing their finest]. You’re more interested in what it’s really like and whether you actually want to got there, right? Well, it’s safe to say that if you fall into one of the following categories then yes, you probably will:

- You’re a person of business and you’ve been to one of the other Bluu establishments in Manchester, Nottingham, Birmingham or Hoxton and thought it’d be a pretty neat to hold a meeting there;
- You’re a shouter. One of those people who loves the sound of their own voice, eager to idle away your evenings in a post-work stupour at a venue that has hard floors and hard ceilings and thus increases your already-deafening voice by several hundred decibels;
- You live on either the Northern line or the Central line and can ill afford stretching to anything beyond the mad dash for the last tube in order to rush home to your misery. So you select a closer and mildly more convivial option.

If, however, you fall into one of the following categories....:

everyone else in the entire world. With taste.

.... then you probably wont be all that bothered, to be honest.

What Wetherspoons does for blue collar workers, All Bar One does for lower middle management. And what All Bar One does for lower middle management, Bluu does for junior partners. It’s exactly the same, only with nicer tiles and wallpaper. Oh, and toilets doors that go right to the top AND bottom.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with the All Bar Nones of this world - without them we’d just be stuck with Pitcher & Piano - but unfortunately they, like Bluu, lack any real character. I mean, it looks nice enough, just not ‘Holy Moly!’ nice. The Bluu bigwigs have certainly spent a pretty penny to get it looking respectable. In fact, that penny was not just pretty, it was the Miss Universe of pennies three years in a row and only gave up being pretty to give the other pennies a chance. Although it’s essentially an aircraft hangar with all the plumbing and wiring still exposed, it does scrape through with a few credentials: it’s squeaky clean, it’s got a quaint sort of old style kitchen feel about it; and, it has plenty of natural light, even, oddly, in the basement.

On the drinks front, the usual San KroneFosteStrongNess draught beers are on offer and, unsurprisingly, the bottle options are much more enticing. However, the comprehensive book-sized drinks menu is filled with many different ways to get yourself into mischief including cheap-for-the-City champers and fish bowl cocktails for sharing (note: first one to suck down the most, wins. Or maybe doesn’t).

There is food, served up by a head chef called Jed - yes, that’s Jed the Head - which includes corn-fed poultry locally sourced from Lancashire (?) and breakfasts with words like black pudding, kippers or lobster omelette oozing across the menu. There’s also a ‘Beast of the Day’ sacrifice and a thorough range of desserts for all those girth-widening chompers amongst you.

My advice to you, if you really have to go: don’t conduct a meeting there. Businessman says ‘I wouldn’t have a meeting here’. How do I know this? Because I asked a real-life businessman, that’s how.

London's hidden gem museums

Link to original publish on Spire.com

Fulham Palace
One of the capital’s best kept secrets. Perched on the banks of the river Thames, Fulham Palace is the borough’s oldest building. It is also the most stately and, up until the 1970s, housed all the previous Bishops of London, dating right back to 704. The grade one-listed building is architecturally diverse, taking in aspects of Tudor, Georgian and Victorian design. A recent winner of the Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors building conservation award for London visitors, Fulham Palace is home to a contemporary art gallery, a museum filled with archaeological artifacts, and a tranquil, walled garden resplendent with trees, herbs, botanical beds and wisteria pergola. On every second and fourth Sunday in the month (excluding December) and on every third Tuesday in the month, there are historical guided tours of all the major attractions, including the gardens, the Victorian Chapel, the Great Hall, and Bishop Sherlock's Room. These tours begin at 2pm, cost £5 per head and there is no need to book.
Bishops Avenue, SW6 6EA
www.fulhampalace.org

Charles Dickens Museum
If you’re traveling with kids then the £62m Dickens World installation in Chatham, Kent is probably a more appropriate day out, but if you’re looking for a more authentic Dickens experience then visit his only surviving residence in Holborn. Set on four floors, this is the world’s best collection of Dickens-related material and includes posters, rare editions, letters, paintings and original furniture. The famous novelist and social commentator lived in this Georgian terraced house from 1837 until 1839 before moving to larger accommodation following his literary success. If you’re lucky, you might want to get involved with one of the special events taking place at the museum such as the Victorian Games evening (in November), the occasional reading session (telephone to book tickets) or the weekly (usually Wednesdays) handling sessions at which you can actually write with the same quill that Dickens once used.
48 Doughty Street, WC1N 2LX
www.dickensmuseum.com

Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology
This museum is part of University College London’s Institute of Archaeology and, as such, boasts some 80,000 Egyptian and Sudanese objects dating back as far as 5000BC. Offering of vision of what life was like in the Nile Valley throughout the ages (pharoahs, Ptolemiac, Roman era, Islamic age), the museum is filled with some of the earliest examples of Egyptian metals, costumes and calendars. It’s also home to a variety of weapons, portraits, jewelry, tools, earthenware and items of everyday use. It can be deliberately dark sometimes (for effect) and guests are often encouraged to carry a torch.
University College London, Malet Place, WC1E 6BT
www.petrie.ucl.ac.uk

Horniman Museum
Question: where else can you find all of the following (take a deep breath)?: an anthropology museum that includes the UK’s first permanent gallery devoted to African and Afro-Caribbean art and culture; a natural history museum with 250,000 stuffed specimens such as the impressive Canadian walrus; a Centenary Gallery that includes models, masks and even a torture chair; a museum of 7000 musical instruments, including 3500-year old Egyptian clappers; a 16-acre landscaped garden with grand conservatory; AND a £1.5m aquarium.
Answer: The Horniman.
Set on four floors, this unique art nouveau collection of natural and cultural artifacts is bolstered by a regular rotation of workshops, festivals, concerts and activities. Worth the day trip away from central London alone.
100 London Rd, SE23 3PQ
www.horniman.ac.uk

The Museum of Immigration and Diversity
If you’re looking for the ultimate ‘once in a lifetime’ museum opportunity then 19 Princelet Street in Spitalfields is just the ticket. This building is so rare and so fragile that open days are restricted to single digits. For example, in 2008 the museum will only open its doors for four days during the entire year! To arrange a visit outside of these dates, a four-week written notice is required. This bona fide time machine is unspoiled by modernity. It remains hauntingly unrestored from its original 1719 state, when a Huguenot master silk weaver owned it: living quarters; kitchen; garrets in the attic; and, a rare Polish synagogue where the garden once stood, alleged to be London’s second oldest.
This museum is the only European cultural institution exclusive to the themes of immigration and diversity. Understandably, it has been described by intrepid world traveller, Michael Palin, as “one of the most remarkable places in London”.
There is no charge, but donations are encouraged.
19 Princelet Street, London E1 6QH
www.19princeletstreet.org.uk

Clockmakers’ Museum
If you can, try to find the time (ha ha) to visit the Clockmakers’ Museum because it houses the oldest specific collection of clocks and watches in the world. Set in a singular yet comprehensively stocked room, the museum charts the rich history of London’s clockmaking. The accumulative range boasts some 600 watches, 30 clocks and 15 marine timekeepers. Most pieces range in date from 1600 and 1850 but there’s also a rolling exhibition of more contemporary works. The worthy timepieces of note include the first electric clock, Mary Queen of Scot's skull-shaped watch as well as the timepiece Sir Edmund Hillary wore during his push to the summit of Everest in 1953.
For those with a particularly keen interest in timekeeping, the Guildhall Library next door houses the Library of the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers, the museums patrons, where you’ll find an extensive range of printed materials on British horology.
Tip: the best time to visit is at noon when all the clocks chime simultaneously.
Guildhall Library, EC2V 7HH
www.clockmakers.org

Sir John Soane’s Museum
This heritage-listed museum was once the home of Sir John Soane (1753-1837) who, as well as being the famous architect behind the Bank of England, was also an avid collector of rarities and curiosities. He actually designed the house himself and positioned a favorable glass dome in the atrium so light could constantly spill onto every level. Manned by an enthusiastic and knowledgeable body of staff, the collection is not specific to a particular era or genre, taking in Egyptian, Classical, Medieval, Renaissance, Neo-Classical and Oriental antiquities, sculptures, paintings, casts, furniture and time pieces. Perhaps some of the strangest and most rare acquisitions are the Egyptian sarcophagus, the paintings by Turner and Canaletto, the drawings by Christopher Wren, William Hogarth's original ‘Rake's Progress’ cartoons and a mock medieval monk’s parlor. Look out for the interesting secret panels in the picture gallery which reveal more works of art when unfolded.
Tip: download a free audio tour from the museum’s website prior to your arrival.
Note: numbers are limited because of the building’s small size and fragility so expect queues on certain days at certain times. Therefore, arrive early and always avoid Saturdays. Or better still, go on the first Tuesday evening of the month to see the whole place bathed in candlelight.
www.soane.org

London Silver Vaults
Blink and you’ll miss it. Hidden away under the city’s legal district in amongst office buildings and tailor shops, this is one of the capital’s best kept secrets; ask most Londoners and they wont even know it exists. Yet despite this, it is the world’s most extensive collection of antique silver. Dating back to the late 19th century, these underground vaults were once the safety deposit box to London’s highly affluent. Large imposing doors protect some 40 dealerships that will buy, sell, exchange, repair, evaluate and generally give expert specialist insight into all things silver. Recognized bodies - such as the British Antique Dealers Association - will give you the assurance that you’re buying quality. If you’re lucky you might even bump into a movie star, a famous musician or even Royalty whilst perusing the dinner services, jewelry, candelabras, ornaments, champagne swizzle sticks and full-size silver armchairs.
Chancery House, 53-64 Chancery Lane WC2
www.thesilvervaults.com

Geffrye Museum
Have you ever wondered how English domestic life has evolved over the last 400 years? The easiest way to find out is to take a simple stroll. The Geffrye Museum is an 18th-century ivy-clad almshouse that’s been recreated into a chronological walk through middle class England. Starting with 17th century Elizabethan oak furniture and panelling, through a 1930s flat and on into an Ikea-furnished converted warehouse from the 90s, this is the UK’s only museum dedicated entirely to English furniture, paintings, textiles, and decoration. There’s also an award-winning walled herb garden and a series of period gardens. Plus a frail Almshouse, a cafe, a shop, and a temporary exhibition space that changes focus throughout the year.
Tip: be sure to go off-peak to avoid frustrating crowds. And get the £1 audio guide is well worth getting.
135 Kingsland Road E2 8EA
www.geffrye-museum.org.uk

Museum of Garden History/The Garden Museum
The Museum of Garden History is already the first of its kind in the world and soon it will be even better. In November 2008 it will relaunch as The Garden Museum having closed its doors for three months of intense refurbishment and redesign. Set on the Albert Embankment, near facing the Houses of Parliament across the Thames, the erstwhile St. Mary-at-Lambeth church is being transformed into the UK’s only fully devoted garden exhibition. The new additions will include an education room, a mezzanine gallery, and a new temporary gallery. These will compliment the existing 17th century knot garden as well as the rear courtyard - where the tomb of the Charles I’s famous plant collector and gardener, John Tradescant, lies - plus many historic tools, artifacts and curiosities that highlight the British obsession with garden design. During the reconstruction period the garden cafe, shop and garden will still be open.
Lambeth Palace Road, London, SE1 7LB
www.museumgardenhistory.org

Churchill Museum and War Cabinet Rooms
If it’s one of those typically British rainy days, head underground in the heart of Westminster. For those that like their sight seeing genuine and concise, the nine historical War Cabinet Rooms should keep you thoroughly enthralled. Restored in 2003, these are the very same subterranean enclosures used by the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, and his Chief of Staff during their World War II campaign. Original furniture, maps, books and Trans-Atlantic telephones are coupled together with authentically dressed mannequins and realistic sound recordings to create a snapshot of political life during the 1940s. Although young children might not ‘get’ the War Rooms section they may still enjoy the connecting Churchill Museum as it’s filled with multi-media exhibits. Charting the 90 living years of the man himself it includes the impressive fifteen metre-long ‘Lifeline’ interactive table. There are also special events and temporary exhibitions going on throughout the year.
Tips: The mornings are quieter and the audio tour enhances your in-depth experience.
Clive Steps, 
King Charles Street  
London SW1A 2AQ

http://cwr.iwm.org.uk

Dennis Severs’ House
Although this might initially seem like some sort of heritage museum, it’s definitely not. This is historical art and it’s the closest thing to time travel as you’re ever likely to witness. American Dennis Severs lived here during the 1970s and made it his personal mission to recreate a homestead for a fictitious Huguenot family. This eerie East End Georgian terrace has been developed into some kind of of 18th/19th century soap opera. Severs himself called it “still life drama”. It requires you to use your imagination as you wander, silently, through the ten, small, dark era-themed rooms, soaking up living history with all your available senses: the smells (dampness, fresh coffee, roaring fire); the sights (partially-eaten still-warm food, authentic furniture and clothing); and sounds (hidden speakers projecting street noises). Just don’t ask any questions: the staff here are not curators, they’re performers.
Tip: Monday night visits by candlelight are best for the complete effect.
18 Folgate Street, E1 6BX
www.dennissevershouse.co.uk