Last bank holiday Monday some friends and I went to "the original seaside", as Margate is now billing itself, to see the new Turner Contemporary. It looks a bit shed-like when you exit the station, but because it's the same height as the other buildings around it, it doesn't seem intrusive (it actually looks lower than it does in my photo, which is zoomed and cropped).

It's a rather nice space inside, not very big, but light and cool. Charles Holland has written a good review of it here, which saves me having to say much else.

The day we were there the seafront was heaving with bikers there for the Margate Meltdown, with lots of stalls, and pub rock bands, and gawkers. It was the most crowded I'd seen the place (but then again I've never been there in the height of the season before).

There were lots of bikes parked outside the gallery, framed here by Daniel Buren's already iconic stripes. (The huge windows overlooking the sea are fantastic.)

After visiting the Turner, I dragged my friends off to the Shell Grotto (no visit to Margate is complete without it), where I was temporarily adopted by the very friendly Grotto Cat.

And then a stroll around town, where we discovered that Limbo is situated between a Burton shop and a KFC.

And there was plenty of bunting. Bunting is definitely the "in" thing this year. I'd like to blame That Wedding, but it was popping up all over the place long before that. The high street was full of bright fluttering flags, which couldn't hide the fact that so many of the shops have closed down (but on the plus side, there were some new, independent ones which had opened up since I was there last year). I liked the two-tone chequered bunting outside the mod shop, and the orange-and-black bunting along the route of the bikefest, as well.

A day at the seaside requires ice cream, so we headed off to get some at Carter's Steam Fair, which was set up in the Dreamland car park. Unfortunately, it started raining as soon as we walked in through the gates, so we didn't stay long, and the rain only got harder when we left. With a bit of time before the next train back to London, we took shelter in a cafe in Buenos Ayres.

(It wasn't as nice as the cafe we had lunch in, a proper classic caff with red leatherette booths called Kalli's, where a cup of tea, scrambled egg, proper crispy bacon and mushrooms on toast came to the princely sum of three quid. Brilliant.)

Then back to the train station, with barely enough time to admire the lovely station ceiling, and on to the fast train home to London in the rain.

It wouldn't have been a proper Whitsun bank holiday without some rain, I suppose. And speaking of bank holidays, I was amused and interesting to read this piece on Margate and bank holidays a couple of days later.

More photos from the day (with more to come) here. All my Margate photos are here. You can read about previous visits to Margate here and here.

I was at Conway Hall for about the last 15 minutes of the (International) Alternative Press Fair on Sunday, and after browsing tables in the very cramped aisles, I found myself taking photos of the lovely interior (I do rather love this building!)

I didn't have enough time to buy much, but I highly recommend Onion Soup by Dan Berry (buy it here), and The End of The Line by Woodrow Phoenix (not sure where you can buy that one from).

And on Monday I saw lots of things in Margate but I haven't been through all of my photos yet (I actually used my camera for some of those, rather than just my phone)

Here's something that looks a bit like a cooling tower, taken for the Cooling Tower Appreciation Society.

And here are some pylons.

I am fully aware that most people go to MCMExpo to take photos of the cosplayers. I don't care. Pylons are beautiful. And they were on my mind that day, due to several articles being posted and discussed: pylon design competition; design appreciation; these elegant ones; these ugly ones; this; also this. OK, I'll shut up now.

And here's Warwick Johnson Cadwell framed by some marvellous clouds (the skies have been fabulous lately).

And, um, that's it from MCMExpo this time. (here's last year's reports from MCMEXPO: part 1, part 2)

The estate's been on my list of things to visit for a few years but I kept putting it off. Going there last week was a completely spontaneous decision, which was probably poor planning on my part, as it ended up taking the best part of three hours just to get there. The second half of the journey took the most time. Turns out there's no direct bus from Lewisham station and I wasn't really up for walking through a couple of miles of unfamiliar backstreets so I had to get a bus to Eltham and then double back around on myself on what turned out to be the Slowest Bus Ever (although I was intrigued to see a sign for an ice well as we passed through Mottingham, having visited the one at the Canal Museum).

All the streets in the estate are named after Arthurian characters. Mordred Road is also home to a gorgeous magnolia tree which will probably get torn down along with the houses (and also at least one very grumpy cat).

Even the church is a prefab — with some pebbledash.

Ironically (and annoyingly), once I finally got to the estate, I stayed less than ten minutes because a man started following me down one of the streets while I was taking photos, trying to chat me up. He only disappeared when I went away, even though I probably would have been willing to talk to him if he'd had more to say than "hey baby hey baby" all the way down the road. It might even have been interesting if he actually lived in one of the prefab houses.

It's annoying I wasn't there very long, though because, on top of wasting so much time trying to get there, I didn't get that many photos. Oh well, there are loads of pictures all over the internet. See more from Sarah McIntyre, Nothing To See Here, hereWW2 Talk, BBC News, and Urban75.

The first seaside visit of the year was down to the Kent coast for a rainy day in Deal a couple of Saturdays ago. First stop was the undeniably Brutalist pier. To quote Charles Holland, "It doesn't look like a good night out, more like a bad morning after. [...] It looks like a piece of the M1 that has washed up on the shores of East Kent."

Despite that, I liked the pier, which is wide, open and in constant use even on a rather bleak and rainy day in January (although it was disappointing that the cafe was closed for refurbishment).

There were a couple of families out fishing (and snoozing), including one woman who proudly regaled us with tales of past catches and how much she loved being out in all weathers with her pink fishing rod. We asked if she ever got bored waiting for something to bite. "Not on your life!" she declared, as we tried to flee the biting wind. She was clearly made of hardier stuff.

Deal has a Time Ball Tower Museum and a Castle, both of which are closed out of season, so we wandered around the fishing boats, where bored teenage boys were sorting sprats under parental duress. Signs advised us to keep clear of morning haze, and jewels shined on rotten planks.

We posed for group photos outside the castle and tried to ignore the ugly red building overshadowing it (this appeared to be the tallest building on Deal's seashore. It's not very tall but everything else is about two storeys shorter, so it still stands out).

Lunch brought debate as we traipsed around looking for fish and chips, and everyone else ignored my advice that there would probably be a chippy next door to the amusement arcade. Some of us ended up in Deal Beach Parlour, which was full of great vintage signage and unfortunately also full of grumpy staff who told me not to take photos of it.

So we only had a cup of tea, and went a few doors down to the chip shop (which was indeed next door to the amusement arcade as I'd predicted).

After lunch, a wander around the narrow streets full of terraced cottages. Lace curtains and neighbourhood watch signs were the order of the day here (one curtain twitcher banged on their window when I was taking a photo of a green door across the street, even though I wasn't trying to peer into peoples' houses).

I noticed lots of cottages had small selections of tiles over the doorways. Does anyone know if it's a relatively new thing or something traditional? I've not seen it before. It's as though one household thought it might look nice, and then all the neighbours followed suit.

Something else I've not seen before were these Vs near pavement level, which I spotted all over town. I couldn't work out what they were for; anyone know? Valves or vaults or something else?

Heading towards the high street, we spotted the only blue skies of the day.

Down on the high street we found a lovely old cigarette machine and a vintage sign offering hot drinks.

We went past Cockle Swamp Alley which had something of a Carry On ring to it, which seemed appropriate, as Deal was famously home to Charles Hawtrey (who led a rather sad life away from his onscreen appearances).

Deal was also home to the bluestocking Elizabeth Carter, whose pink house we came upon just as the clouds parted for a few brief moments of golden hour sunshine.

There was a mini exodus to the beach to make the most of the light, but a nearby signpost suggested there was a "hotter comfort concept" in the opposite direction, so we followed its advice (partway), and went to the pub.

We'll be back to visit Deal again though. Maybe in warmer weather next time.

More photos here and here.

Still, it gives me an excuse to mention that one London sewer flusher has started writing a blog. So far it's all celebrity anecdotes and campaign-slogans, but could be worth keeping an eye for any occasional interesting treasure that might turn up in the same old crap.

It's a nice old red brick building, designed by Norman Shaw (the architect of Albert Hall Mansions in Kensington) , covered with pretty scalloped tiles.

There's a pretty blue plaque, put up in 1949, which you can only see if you're standing on the front steps.

Nowadays there are several households in apartments, but the top floor is being used by artist John Aldus, who is the first artist to use the studio space for some time. He has all sorts of lovely objects on display in various nooks and crannies, so I spent a happy 40 minutes or so taking lots of photos. (I didn't post them all online because too many seems intrusive even if he did open his home to the public). There were lots of tiny houses all over the place, including the top of the wardrobe, above the flat door, and on a shelf by the stairs. At the top of the stairs was a fabulous mirrored minibar.

I wanted to stay for cocktails and lunch on the balcony, and spend lots more time browsing through art books and interesting nicknacks.

But I had to get on a bus to the next Open House, Sky House. This is a penthouse apartment, built in the 1980s but only made liveable in 2009. They were a bit iffy about people taking photos (even though there are photos in that link), so I only took a few to give a sense of what it's like.

This is the view from next to the main door, looking through the main living space, with the bedroom at the far end (behind the piano). All the walls are basically glass, so there's a lot of light, even though there are a lot of shelves on one side.

This is the view from the other end — you can see all the shelves.

There's a little workspace in the middle of the corridor, which isn't the most spacious of offices, but this is the view, looking towards the BT Tower and Centre Point.

The views were pretty amazing all around, really. Here's the view towards Hampstead.

Final stop of the day was no-house near Holloway. This was the one with the longest queue (almost an hour), but it was also the most disappointing.

The exterior is a modern block with cedarwood — apparently the frame can be built in five days. (There were some photos showing them putting it up.) It stands out a lot amongst the Victorian houses (despite their claims to make something that would fit in), but it has a pleasing external design.

Inside was disappointing, though. Its stark white walls and floors made it look cold and somewhat clinical, almost unfinished. There were some groovy chairs though.

The bathroom was probably the big talking point, with a sunken bath and a huge window that could be opened onto a small corridor where there was another huge window. Because the bath is sunken, no one can really see inside unless they're very tall.

This is the view from the corridor.

And this is the view from in front of the bathroom mirror.

There were some clever designs in no-house (I especially like the fact you can build it in less than a week), but I think I'd have to see it with some different decor ideas before I could actually want to live there. (Unlike John Aldus' flat, which I wanted to move into straight away.)

More photos of Sunday's Open House here.

The first place I visited was Centre Point, the iconic office block above Tottenham Court Road station that was built in the 1960s and scandalously left empty for many years because the property developer refused to rent it to anyone who wouldn't take the whole building. 
 
Centre Point has always been one of those buildings I was curious to see inside, and I never took advantage of the times friends have worked there, so it was good to finally get a chance to nose around inside and to admire the view from the top floor. 

To be honest, the interior wasn't all that exciting (it is a corporate office building, after all), but I did like the pattern on the floor. 

And the view from the 33rd floor is pretty spectacular.

Being so high up provides ample opportunity to spot things you'd never usually see, like grass roofs or construction sites usually hidden behind hoardings. I spotted a ghost sign on Oxford Street that is usually obscured by a combination of building angles and wood hoardings. (It's for W Heslop, about whom I have yet to find any information.) 

The bar looks nice too, but to drink there you have to be a member — applying for membership doesn't come cheap and apparently you have to be vetted by other members before you're accepted. They can keep their boys' club, but I'll still be envious of the views.   
 

The second venue I visited was the Royal Astronomical Society, where we were given an extensive of the building. A very extensive tour: it took two hours, because our guide stopped beside every single portrait and artefact, and proceeded to give us a long-winded explanation as to how it had ended up at the RAS. 

To be honest, I was too knackered to pay much attention, especially as being stuck in a tiny office room with 25 other people isn't my idea of fun, so I missed much of what he was saying, so I spent a large chunk of it sat on the stairs admiring the engraved window.

We did get to see a piece of Isaac Newton's tree, though, and some pretty amazing pre-Galilean books, and a nice lunar globe. 

Two hours is a long time for a tour of a small building, though, even if the tour is peppered with interesting anecdotal tidbits, so I'm not sure that I'd recommend the Royal Astronomical Society at next year's Open House. I'd definitely recommend Centre Point, though.

See more photos from Centre Point and the RAS here. 

This is the envelope. I love the illustration of the woman with the camera. I put the two coins in to show the scale, although they are actually from Weimar Germany. (They're so pretty though! And I didn't have any Spanish coins from then).

Here's the front cover to the photo envelope, illustrated by someone who's signed themselves as "Valor".

Unidentified mountain villages. That looks like some kind of monastery or fort on the right.

These are definitely Barcelona. Nice to see they were fans of Antonin Gaudi, too.

I'm not sure about the rest, but they're probably from Barcelona as well.

And this is what the camera probably looked like.

One of the nice things about attending the Hypercomics preview in Battersea Park was coming across one of my favourite little-known spots in London bathed in golden hour sunlight, which might possibly be the best time to see it.

This spot is what remains of the Festival of Britain Pleasure Gardens, built in 1951, when Battersea Park was filled with a huge fairground, complete with a rollercoaster and a miniature railway based on designs by Rowland Emmett, the Far Tottering & Oystercreek Railway.

Despite the fact that the Festival Gardens featured designs from such luminaries as Emmett and Lewitt-Him and Abram Games, and despite the fact that many of the structures have remained in place for almost 60 years, it was surprisingly difficult to find any information about who designed the garden structures themselves. However, thanks to some judicious detective work, I have finally tracked a name down. He was James Gardner, arguably "Britain's most important post-war exhibition and museum designer" (so say these people), so his absence from sites like Wikipedia or even the Design Museum site seems all the more surprising, especially as the Design Museum does have a page about Ernest Race, the furniture designer who probably designed the lovely Battersea pleasure garden benches (hat tip to George Rex for that bit of detective work).

Although it has been quite hard to find out very much about him, I did eventually track down some information on James Gardner. Thanks to this obituary from 1995, it was possible to learn some more about this remarkable man, who worked as an apprentice to Cartier in the 1920s, and Chief Deception Officer (how cool is that job title?) of the Army Camouflage unit during the second world war, before going on to design the superstructure of the QE2, and the public decorations for Queen Elizabeth's coronation in 1953. No small achievements, by any standards, so how come it's so hard to find much information about him? (If you do a search for "James Gardner industrial designer" quite a lot of pages come up, but it took a lot of searching just to find out his name in the first place.)

Gardner also designed the exhibition for Britain Can Make It in 1946, and the catalogue cover has been making the Tumblr rounds in the last couple of weeks, which seems like synchronicitous timing.

But apart from all of that, he designed one of my favourite spots in London, and since that is where I discovered him, I'll let you discover him there too.