My friend Maxine and I are huge make-up fans. Between us we own enough to start a shop, and our thirteen-year friendship has been built – at least in part – on a mutual love of slap. She lives in the arse end of beyond (Swindon), so as soon as she booked her train ticket […]
I don’t usually get to eat at places like Duck and Waffle at the Heron Tower, which at forty floors above ground is the UK’s highest restaurant. Reservations are hard to come by and the wine list is exorbitant, so the place is inevitably packed out with flash bastards who don’t mind spending at least […]
Walk in to any one of Paul A. Young’s caves of confectionary delights and you’ll be immediately overcome by the powerful aroma of deepest, darkest chocolate. Platters of individual mouthfuls are piled high in displays that would make Bruce Bogtrotter jizz in his pants, and an expensive hush blankets the room.
“So do you get many girls in your classes?” I asked the receptionist of the London Fight Factory over the phone. “Er, a few,” she said shiftily, “but definitely come along, everyone is welcome.”
The Old Operating Theatre Museum is a restored garret hidden away just up Borough High Street. You can only get at it by climbing three flights of mental-steep spiral stairs, which means that – ironically – the oldest operating theatre in Europe can only be reached by the able-bodied, but once up there there’s a […]