The closest Walthamstow will ever get to Vegas, God's Own Junkyard is a louche cave that reels you in with its throbbing neon treasures.
The late Chris Bracey's forest of illuminations is a destination in its own right. Fortunately, for the casual drinker, it has its own bar too.
And frankly, after ogling the lights for half an hour, a sit down and a beer is much called-for. The laid-back cafe provides: poach a bottle of uber-local Wild Card beer (pale, ruby, stout, IPA) from the fridge, or a coffee and slice of homemade sponge.
There are also cans of Red Stripe, if you're so inclined.
This really is a bar for all occasions (apart from, perhaps, a stinking hangover). Knock a date sideways with your north-east London nous, or treat the rents to an adventure outing (averting their eyes from the racier neon, naturally).
Actually, we'd be surprised if no one's popped the question in God's Own Junkyard yet.
While the wilds of an industrial estate near Walthamstow Village might sound like the sticks, plenty of savvy Londoners have cottoned onto this place. Add to that its limited opening hours, and this place does get busy.
Still, it didn't take long for us to locate a table for four to recline at — tanning our pale, February skin beneath the incandescent flicker, while basting our throats with local brews.
We'd happily spend a whole weekend on this industrial estate. We essentially have.
Last updated March 2018.