Many a great walk starts by crossing the Sacred River Lea.

I resisted the temptation to see the sunken narrowboat as a bad omen.

There’s always a bohemian air to Stoke Newington Church Street that seems to resist gentrification and somehow stands apart from other North London streets. I wonder if it has something to do with all those anarchists that nested around here.

I sat on a bench in Clissold Park in the late afternoon sun with a flat white and a cannoli and a sfogliatella.

I loved walking these Highbury streets in our happy years living here in the late 90s. I walked through Highbury Barn and briefly stood outside our old basement flat.

I wandered over Highbury Fields in glorious sunshine and caught the train home from Highbury and Islington drenched in nostalgia.