Spend all week in boiler cupboards, you start craving white walls and something that isn’t a flue. These are the places I slope off to when the tools are back in the van, the mud’s off the allotment boots and there’s still daylight to spare. A bit of everything here: big civic temples, artist-run corners above dodgy stairwells, and the odd trip over the river when I’m feeling adventurous. Nothing fancy, just the spots that keep my brain ticking over between gas safeties.
TheLysts
