Embracing Contradictions with Nayrouz Qarmout.

Nayrouz Qarmout was born in a Palestinian refugee camp in Damascus in 1984 and later ‘returned’ to Gaza in 1994 as part of the Oslo Peace Accord, where she continues to live and write. An author, journalist, and female rights activist, she has worked in the Ministry of Women’s Affairs and is now running for a position in parliament (she says ‘it is not easy for a free woman to enter election in an occupied country’), and works tirelessly in raising awareness surrounding the position of women in society. Her anthology of 14 short stories, The Sea Cloak, won several awards at the Edinburgh Book Festival in 2019, which Nayrouz attended despite two visa rejections and countless hurdles. This was the first time she had been able to leave Gaza since arriving in 1994. The collection provides a keyhole into life as a woman in the ‘world’s largest prison’, and follows very human experiences of living in one of the least understood cities in the middle east. Her aim is to humanise Palestinians, so they are no longer seen as just victims but as people.

Pairing everyday life with the trauma of living in a war zone, Qarmout’s short stories and lyrical prose in The Sea Cloak illuminate the lives of Palestinians in a poetic yet impartial narrative. In Breastfeeding, 13yr old Sara is diligently studying in the hope of leaving her family’s mud-walled hut for university, but has her hopes dashed when she is forced to marry her cousin. In White Lilies, a drone operator looks idly on after pressing a button detonating a bomb near a school. In The Long Braid, a young schoolgirl argues brazenly with a teacher who denounces all emancipated women as ‘sluts’. The themes that these three stories touch upon including feminism, war, love, resilience, and of being human are embodied by Nayrouz, giving strength, clarity and realism to her work. 

What is something about your background that is important for people to know to understand your writing?

I’d spent my life displaced between different places. I was always searching for an identity, looking to belong to whatever group. What did “belonging” mean? Why did we feel so constantly unstable? How did we define ourselves in relation to groups around us when we didn’t have the opportunity to live in close proximity for as long as we did?

I read that you have a degree in economics. That’s quite a jump to writing - how did you start writing?

It’s actually a little more complicated than that. I originally went into the science stream in high school, not the literary one, and when that was done, I did pharmaceuticals for three and a half years. I chose to leave that and studied economics for a bunch of reasons, the first of which was that I wanted to study outside of universities in Gaza but had no ID or passport for a long time. The other thing was that, for reasons unknown to me, the sciences in our country, like medicine, engineering, and pharmaceuticals, are full of deeply religious and even puritanical people. I’m more socially progressive, and other colleges were easier on that. The third reason was that I wanted to study things that were simply not available to us. As for the switch to writing, perhaps social and political circumstances set that off inside me. It started with political writing and wound up in stories. But I’ve always expressed myself in writing, illustrating things in Arabic, taking in the world as any creative person would but previously not actually putting pen to paper. I think it’s a talent more than anything.

Growing up in Syrian refugee camp Al-Yarmouk in Damascus - could you tell me a little about this?

I was a very imaginative child. I remember those times fondly, even though they were really difficult on a family. I grew up in a politically conscientious, private family. This made us different to a lot of people living in the camp. My mother was born in Damascus and my grandma lived in Rif-Dimashq, in the country. It was a long but beautiful road when I came home from a school for Palestinian refugees to visit my grandmas with the rest of the family on weekends.

Do you have literary influences & who are they?

I try not to be too affected by anyone. My imagination runs off of my own senses and the contradictions I see in daily life. But I loved the poetry of Mahmoud Darwish and the stories of Ghassan Kanafani. When I wrote my first story, I wasn't reading literature, instead being glued to politics. The articles I’d write were entirely political. After I wrote my first story, “The Sea Cloak,” I began to read more literature, more stories and novels.

Where do you get the inspiration for the short stories? Are they your own (personal) stories, ones you have heard, historical, or fictional?

Stories are like a tune you hear. They come from everything: your experiences, your imagination, your history. Some stories are entirely fictive but which readers think are real. Even if I hear a story from history or recycle one of my own experiences, I don’t keep them intact. I work in some imagination and even characterisation, even into the character readers mistake for an author surrogate.

What drives you to write about the challenging issues that you write about, and do you ever have any concerns, for example that people might take what your words in the wrong way?

When I write, I do so confidently, because whatever value I’m reflecting in my story at that moment will be the result of interrogating all contradictory viewpoints that people hold and complexities at the heart of an issue, including context. Writing that doesn’t challenge an issue at the heart of life is useless. A trivial detail dismissed by most could hold depth that recontextualises social behaviour. Writing has two missions: one, which is artistic, is a form of creative illustration. The other is ethical, concerned with what it means to be a human being. To build a strong society, we need creative revolution. We must ignore voices that seek to dishearten and be fully courageous in presenting our opinions. I hope to see my community in a light that befits its sacrifices.

You said in an interview that you did in 2018 that you were sick of the stereotypes that media outlets propagate about Gaza. Can you elaborate on that? Do you use your writing to try and counter those narratives?

Of course I’d like to combat the stereotyped image of Gaza, which perpetuates a particular view of the place and marginalises others, building a fantasy version of the city and its residents, as if they’d ever had the opportunity to try a different life. I have tried through my stories to fight this image. I’ve spent a not inconsiderable amount of time writing stories that attempt to objectively capture reality, the objective reality of a situation and portrayal of people, removed from my own interpretation of them.

Do you find that you have a Palestinian audience for your work? Is there a wider audience and support for literature and culture?

I have a sizable audience that enjoys my work. They’re looking for something new, and I think there’s a contradiction where I’ve tried taking both external forces and Palestinian society to task that I’ve striven for that people have enjoyed. After the long siege of Gaza, there has been a yearning for art, literature, and culture in changing their lives for the better. People are tired of isolation and soul and hope-withering dogmatism.

Tell me about the translation of your work – did/do you have any concerns in handing over your text to someone else (are they an outsider or do you know the translator)?

On the contrary: at the beginning, I had no issue sending my work to anyone to translate, even if I hadn’t the faintest idea who the translator was. But after long experience, I’ve become wary of a translator’s ability to comprehend a text. Translation necessitates understanding the culture being translated from, especially for literary or philosophical text. It requires an artistic eye for interpretation. More than that, it requires respecting the text, ensuring it does not deviate from its ideas nor uses its platform to promote another idea that removed from to the writer's mind or direction. A single world could completely change meaning. Arabic is eloquent, and a language heavy with connotation. Maintaining that is difficult. Other languages are peculiar in their own ways, and translating them requires a lot of work and imaginative reading.

One translator I worked with on my first story was absolutely astounding. We’d discuss a single sentence for its allusions and connotations so that she could get to the heart of the matter, with me explaining my exact intended meaning, allowing her to write the sentence exactly as it was intended.

I read that you had quite a journey and several hurdles getting to the Edinburgh book festival in 2018. Could you explain why it is so difficult to enter/exit Gaza, and has it changed at all in the few years since?

After the 2000 Al-Aqsa Intifada on Palestinian lands and the destruction of the Yasser Arafat International Airport in Rafah built after the Oslo Accords, it became very difficult to cross at the Rafah Border Crossing into Egypt, as the occupation was squatted at the bridge. After the 2005 deal and the Israeli withdrawal from Gaza—or, more accurately, its reorganisation just outside the Strip—the Palestinians directly controlled the crossing. But after Hamas won the 2006 Palestinian legislative election and its refusal to recognise the Quartet on the Middle East, we lost Palestinian control of the crossing, especially after internal fighting and the Palestinian Authority’s collapse in the Gaza Strip. We need difficult coordination with the Egyptian side to agree to the passage of travellers, and most of the time the crossing is closed and when it opens it suffers from overcrowding. The crossing is for those with priority, whether those with residency abroad, or people who are sick, or students.

Yes, my journey was very difficult and haphazard. The road was long and the barriers in the desert numerous. It was very hot. I ought to again point out that I did not possess a Palestinian ID or passport to travel until 2009. Prior to that, as a Palestinian refugee, I was not given any official identification after my return to Gaza in 1994. My trip to Edinburgh was the first time I had travelled from Gaza to the rest of the world.

What is it like at the moment being a woman in Gaza?

A woman who does not adhere to traditional ideas but can command respect from different social sects…well, this can be a heavy burden to bear, and could take much from you. Being able to affirm your existence without compromising your independence or something fundamental to you but nonetheless having to compromise…it’s a sacrifice made for the sake of all women in our society.

You said you’re running for a position in parliament. This is really impressive. Do you have any opinions on change for your country?

Well, the simple act of running for office is in itself an attempt at renewal and imposing a different structure that embraces intellectual and political diversity and plurality, as well as the possibility of working towards a permanent solution to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict from various directions and structures of Palestinian society, which is still amorphous and does not have a clear vision for a possible solution after the occupation thwarted any political solution, including that of two-states, on the occupied territories of 1967. I hope to contribute even a small part to helping my people survive and develop under the circumstances and pressures they are subjected to.

EAT YOUR GREENS

Bristol being crowned vegan capital of the world is of little surprise; there’s a vegan falafel bar or vegetable based dinery on every corner. I was a little surprised to find out thatChef’s Pencil, bestowed Bristol with this title based on the number of google searches for vegan eateries in a particular area. I do love scouring the web for places to eat when I’m at home in Bristol, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I slightly managed to skewer the data whilst searching for the best vegan pancakes online.

Somewhere that I’ve had my eye on for a while is Eat your Greens. Living in London, I’m so accustomed to having the tube right on my doorstep, and the lack thereof in Bristol means that I’m fairly confined to a walking radius of my house (yes I do know buses exist, but after being shouted at for trying to use contactless on a bus in Bath, I’m a little bit wary of public transport in the South West). The trek to Totterdown, where Eat your Greens is based, has therefore been put off for a while – but is wholly worth the time.

Eat your Greens is just the archetype of an independent business that you want to be supporting. The infamous ‘Babs’ works in the kitchen, cooking your food on her own (I only got a brief glimpse when I popped to the loo, duly covered in Star Trek paraphernalia), and the food service is incredibly attentive. The décor is quaint and arty, with paintings and collectables adorning the shelves, and bits of ivy curling down to the tables. Eat your Greens serves breakfast and brunch daily, offering an array of plant-based alternatives to fry ups and smoked salmon (smoked carrot, that is), and relaxed dining by night. The personalised table reservation was a very appreciated addition. 

The evening menu consisted of choice between 3 starters and 3 mains, with more complex dishes such as vegan cheese stuffed courgette flowers, or a ciabatta burger and chips for perhaps the meat eaters less inclined to adventurous plant-based options. The gluten free tempura was potentially a highlight. Although I left pretty full and very satisfied, I did also treat myself to a brownie to go – as a selection of freshly baked vegan goods are on offer throughout the day. 

All in all, Eat your Greens is the perfect option for a lazy plant-based brunch, or a relaxed dinner (I hear they also offer a prime Sunday roast), if you’re looking for exceptional home cooked food from ethical sources.

156 Wells Road

Bristol

BS42AG

Weds - Saturday: 10am - 10.30pm 

Sunday: 11am-5.30pm

LELE'S VEGAN AFTERNOON TEA

I don’t really know when we got so into afternoon tea. I started going after heavy nights out, as there is something incredibly amusing about stuffing yourself with cake and trying to remember to lift your pinkie as you drink tea, when deeply and darkly hungover. Despite this tradition, I wasn’t even slightly hungover when I went to Lele’s monthly special of afternoon tea (although, having avoided alcohol recently, half a glass of bubbles went straight to my head).

As aforementioned, Lele’s vegan afternoon tea isn’t an everyday thing. Instead, sittings are run on a monthly basis, which means you have to book well in advance by sending them an email and arranging a deposit. This makes it all the more niche, and perfect for celebrating events (a late birthday treat for myself), planned in advance with plenty of time to look forward to. From 4pm – 6.15pm, Lele’s venue in Dalston is emptied of everyday diners, to offer swift service to a select few afternoon tea attendees.

I really wish that I was the sort of person and blogger who took the time to selectively photograph each cake and sandwich, to savour and rate it, but unfortunately you would’ve thought I’d never been fed after the way I was let loose and devoured the cake. Between my friend and I, we cleared all the sweets and savouries in record timing. I saw most of the other tables leaving with their leftover, unfinished treats boxed to go - which I personally can’t fathom. Nonetheless, everything on offer was pretty memorable, so I can at least remember what was consumed, even if there’s no picture evidence.

I’m not normally a sandwich person, but both the vegan cheese or faux smoked salmon/carrot sandwiches were really good. I don’t think you’d have been able to tell the scones from vegan scones (are normal scones even vegan?). The pastry selection consisted of a Victoria sponge, carrot cake that was supposed to be a brownie without cacao (tasted like carrot cake if I'm honest, but good carrot cake at that), and a chocolate tart. The latter was the only let down in my opinion, as the chocolate filling wasn’t quite right. 

Overall, Lele’s had a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere, and the once-a-month sitting makes it all the more exclusive. All the food was delicious (vegan cakes have come a long way), so it’s definitely one to put on the bucket list for vegan fine diners and afternoon tea enthusiasts in London. Priced at £25 per person, it's also a steal when compared to other venues charging over double the price.

Lele’s 

Dalston Square

London

E8 3BQ

Next afternoon tea; 8th September

TOP 10 THINGS I LEARNED FROM LIVING IN HOSTELS FOR 6 MONTHS

I tend to forget that I lived in hostels for 6 months. I’m kind of a creature of habit (in case you hadn’t realised). I do like a good routine. The barista where I go to get coffee every morning knows my name, as does the candy shop owner where I mass buy watermelon flavoured bubble-gum on the regular. I’m pretty easy to track down in daily life – which is pretty surprising in contrast to the year I spent living out of a backpack. Nonetheless, I still remember the tips and tricks I learned from hostel-hopping across the world.

• Do your research. I wasn’t really intending to backpacking, or definitely not for quite so long when I started off. The first proper hostel I did stay in was the Arts Factory in Byron Bay. Have you seen The Inbetweeners movie? You know when they arrive at their hostel in Australia and their faces just drop? That’s the one. I probably would have loved it a lot more had I now returned to stay, but it was just a little overwhelming at the start. I chose it off Hostelworld because the pictures looked quirky. Quirky to say the least. A cockroach fell on me whilst in bed. A man with a cockatoo (big white bird) toured around the communal kitchens and played the didgeridoo. I woke up to someone passed out in the toilets. I’m not saying it wouldn’t have been fun, but a bit of background research (or rewatching The Inbetweeners) would have meant I probably wouldn’t have chosen such an intense hostel for my first stay.

• Choose mixed dorms. They are so much more fun! Admittedly this worked well until I was semi harassed/assaulted twice whilst trying to sleep in Cairns (and reluctantly stayed in all girls for a few weeks thereafter) but mixed dorms generally have a much more upbeat and enthusiastic vibe. Everyone tends to be more keen to mingle and go out and explore (not saying all-girls are boring…).

• Get people to add you on Facebook. Maybe you’re not as bad at names as me. Faces I can recognise, but names go completely over my head no matter how many times they’re repeated. I spent a whole week in Ho Chi Minh with this guy whose name I don’t just not know now, but really didn’t know at the time either, and became too painstakingly awkward to ask for it (this proved awkward upon multiple occasions of the week). If you meet any cool travellers, you can hunt them down to explore via social media whilst also having a sure-fire method of not forgetting their names.

• Expensive isn’t always better. Especially if you want a good atmosphere. Some of the best hostels I stayed in were in Vietnam for between $1-$5 a night. 

• Check the amenities. I’m not trying to sound prissy, but aircon became my best friend. I spent a week in Sydney in a hostel without aircon whilst it was 40c and the hottest week of the year, and never again. Sleeping wasn’t really sleeping, but rather profusely sweating away in my bunk all night, and having mild arguments with the girl below over which way the fan was to be turned. I also ended up sleeping outside on a mattress (with a bug net), surrounded by stray cats on Gili Air by accident after not researching properly, so I can’t stress this enough. 

• Bed bugs! I’m now a self-declared bedbug expert after having two infestations in 6 months. I know it’s kind of irritating – when you first get into your room, you want to throw down your bags, whip out a change of clothes and head out to explore with whoever you’ve found – but a quick once over glance at the sheets prevents a horrible aftermath. Bedbugs leave small squished blood trails on the mattress. I was asked twice in Seminyak what skin condition I had after being bitten all over, and had to pay £30 (a LOT in Vietnamese money) to have my backpack and all my clothes steam pressed.

• Facebook groups. If you haven’t met anyone to explore with in your hostel, or have particular areas you want to go with further afield, every traveller’s city tends to have a backpacker’s Facebook group. My favourite was the one in Bondi. I traded in my suitcase for a backpack. People used to post what they were about two escaped pets, two very vibrant and rainbow coloured parrots who were incredibly tame – weekly posts on the Facebook group showed that the parrots actually belonged to a known someone, and whilst they might trespass on your balcony for a bit, they always returned home (this made spotting the two parrots all the more exciting).

not one of Bondi's infamous free parrots, but a parrot nonetheless

• Don’t sit down in the shower. Admittedly, this one is pretty common sense, but I like a good sit down to think things over, and consequently came home with ring-worm all down the backs of my legs. (Ring-worm isn’t a living creature, as ominous as it sounds. Think more of an exotic eczema).

• Hostels almost always have a lost and found. Benefical for when you want to save money, and nothing quite as exciting as a half-used tub of aloe vera.

outdoor mattress in bali

• Occasional breaks from hostels are okay. After sharing a dorm with 40 people for a while, I stayed in a cheap villa by myself in Bali for a week. I was heinously excited, and it was great for a night (a double bed becomes such a luxury), but surprisingly enough, I ended up kind of lonely and missed the cacophony of 40 snorers. Nonetheless, a break here and there is still good if you need some private space.

In the end, travelling is less down to where you’re staying, and more the people you meet. Hopefully, with these few tips and tricks from what I personally learned and the mistakes I made, you can hopefully quickly learn to love life out of a backpack!

BULRUSH - BRISTOL

Bristol seemed like a big-time thing, when I lived in Exeter. It boasted of whole extensive shopping centre – even with with a Hollister! You have to understand that this is the ultimate dream, as an Abercrombie/Jack Wills drenched youth. Admittedly I was a little older when we did end up moving, and the whole Hollister novelty had slightly worn off (considering the sexual assault claims, I guess those topless models weren’t so good after all). Nonetheless, Bristol seemed a whole deal more exciting than Exeter (until I moved to London 6 months later, where there is an abundance of Hollister/Abercrombie stories, albeit very tired and you-wouldn’t-be-caught-dead). Particularly for food – voted the vegan capital of the world last year!

Not to be side-tracked by my questionable fashion choices as a teenager (a Jack Wills onesie still lurks at the bottom of my wardrobe), I’m more here to talk about the food options. No, still not a vegan, but when pressed to decide on tasting menus at Bulrush, in Bristol, I opted for the vegan one. It’s rare that a Michelin starred restaurant offers a complete vegan alternative – and by that I mean actual, thought out dishes, as opposed to the meat option minus the meat. I’m not massive on nouveau cuisine. Sort of in the same sphere as my attitude to alcohol, I was always told that my tastebuds would mature, and that I’d start to appreciate wines and spirits (which still really hasn’t happened but doesn’t stop me shotting them straight), I was told that I would come to appreciate a fine foie gras, or gazpacho (the devil of cold soups), or pate. None of this has unfortunately taken place, and whilst vegetarian, I’m still happier with a bowl of pasta than tiny dishes of mousses and extractions and foam (imagine this all said in the deep and soulful Masterchef voice over).

white asparagus and fried nori and whatever the meat eater was having...

Still, not one to turn down a treat, I was more than happy to try all of Bulrush’s 9 courses as part of their vegan taster. As mentioned before, the menu is tailored accordingly to vegans, and not just the steak without the steak. Situated in Cotham, Bulrush prides itself on organically sourced ingredients, and high-end, well thought out and beautifully executed dishes. I remembered to snap a picture of the menu, because my memory isn’t that good. As you can see, the dreaded gazpacho was indeed present (although cleverly disguised under the name tomato consommé) but it actually wasn’t half bad. My favourite course was admittedly the bread, served with vegan cream cheese which lo and behold actually tasted like cream cheese. The only let down was personally the ‘scarlet elf cap in fermented cep broth’, but as those close to me know, I really do hate mushrooms so mushrooms floating in mushroom water was a bit overwhelming, and my distaste lies with my own mushroom-related fears rather than the dish itself. 

• sourdough and cream cheese sprinkled with something green that was way more appetising than it looks...

• some unidentified snack thing that wasn't on the menu but still very tasty

After 1 ‘snack’, 6 savoury courses, 2 desserts and a truffle, you are pretty full – don’t be deceived by the small portion sizes. With the wine pairing, offering 5 glasses in between courses and of course dessert wines to match, you might even lose sight of what exactly you’re eating. Not to fear, for Bulrush exceeds not only in food but also service. Aside from the menu, each dish is clearly explained upon presentation, as is the wine. All waitstaff were incredibly attentive, and you’re given the choice to eat at your decided pace, either eating and relaxing at a languid pace between courses, or having the food as quick at it comes (permanently hungry, I opted for B). The atmosphere remained relaxed, and a polite eye was turned to my mother lecturing me about my career prospects (getting paid to blog remains an unlikely dream…)

raw cacao sponge' aka brownie dressed up as fancy fruit sorbet

21 Cotham Road South

Bristol

BS65TZ

Lunch: Thursday - Saturday 12.30pm - 2.30pm

Dinner: Tuesday - Saturday 6.30pm - 8.30pm

Closed Sundays & Mondays.

BOSE SLEEPBUDS REVIEW

I’m going to have to backtrack a little. I got a fair few replies to a picture of Bose’s new Sleepbuds asking my opinion, but I shot them down immensely. However, after sleeping with them in for a good two weeks now I’m converted.

(At least I thinkI’m converted; I did wake up the other night, sleepwalking, and turning them off in the process. I tend only to sleepwalk when really stressed, so either deadlines are really getting to me, or my subconscious doesn’t like the sleepbuds quite as much as I think).

I have pretty bad chronic insomnia. That’s not to say that I never sleep; when managed correctly, it doesn’t get in the way of everyday life. That being said, taking one hour to fall asleep is a treat. Two hours is often average, and in cases of extreme underlying stress I don’t sleep at all. I often get asked what I do in the bleak 8hr period that I’m lying awake in bed, and honestly my thoughts can keep me very busy! I’ve been taught the sleep deprivation methods of getting out of bed after 20mins, if you haven’t fallen asleep, and gradually retraining yourself to see fall asleep within a shorter period, but in all honesty, I’m often too lazy to leap out of bed every 20mins.

I’ve been wearing earplugs to sleep since I started backpacking, as sharing a dorm with 40 strangers is enough of an experience without being woken up by a cacophony of snoring, late night snackers, and those brazen enough to dabble in other late night activities even in a room full of other nomads. Earplugs were all good and well until I went semi-deaf after Shambala, and lost 90% of my hearing in one ear for a month. I was lucky enough not to damage my ear drum permanently, but the combination of the vacuum created by earplugs, and napping in a cold, damp tent did end me up in hospital. I’m now – understandably - a little wary of over-the-counter earplugs.

at shambala, looking a little too blissfully happy considering I spent the next 12 hrs crying in a+e

I was really excited to discover the Bose Sleepbuds – there aren’t many similar products on the market. It is easy to see why. Priced at £229.95, they’re not exactly cheap. The design is pretty flawless, with a 16hr battery life, and sleek, portable charging case. They also fit comfortably in the ear, cause no pain or irritation, and never fall out overnight. They don’t however play music (nor should they perhaps, for then they wouldn’t be sleepbuds), but at the price, it would almost be better to buy a high-end but otherwise normal pair of earbuds and play static noise all night.

Noise cancellation isn’t what you’re paying for here. Instead, you get a choice of 10 different calming, ambience tracks. I personally find the crackling campfire, and moving tides too distracting to sleep, but the ‘warm static’ and ‘altitude’ settings mimic the quiet hum you hear on planes. This then blocks out most surrounding noise (I live in the middle of London and have sirens going past every hour), and the comforting sounds of my flatmates falling into the flat, slightly drunk and armed with take out, at all hours of the night.

All in all, I have no faults with the design; the earbuds are sleek and efficient. They are incredibly expensive, considering they play only the 10 select tracks, but this is after all their intention.

Not just useful for sleeping, I’m also wholly excited to be able to wear them to the library and remain blissfully unaware of quite how much racket I manage to make by eating popcorn in the study spaces.

God's Own Junkyard

Ever fancied seeing your name in shining lights, Hollywood style? I’m sure you had that little niggling dream in younger days. Swaggering down Broadway, the leading lady in an array of West End musicals. You might also have come to the bitter realisation that this would progress no further than a far off dream after year seven drama lessons, whereby your teacher might have eyed you up with a furrowed brow and expression of mild pity as you desperately tried to bring Oliver to life for the school's seasonal production. Never mind that, you surely did your best to bring a wholly convincing re-enactment of a goldfish to the table instead, ferreted away to one of the smaller parts with a reassuring smile.

Well, acting talents aside (I bet you’ve also been the weakest link to any Christmas table charades game too), having your name in shining lights is certainly possible in one area of London.

God’s Own Junkyard is a gallery for the bright and dazzling neon art, the likes of which can be rented out to feature in films, such as Tomb Raider 2 and Tomorrow Never Dies. Situated a little out of the middle of London, the gallery can be found a short walk from Walthamstow Central tube station (although google maps turned this into a scenic half hour expedition through suburban London).

The inside of the industrial space is truly bedazzling. Neon pieces cover the walls, ceilings, and lie dotted around the floor-space for an overwhelming burst of colour and light. The gallery features numerous huge and awe-striking pieces with quirky phrases such as ‘Sail Away with Me’ and ‘Are you getting enough?’ The art seems to find a sweet balance between gaudy provocation of the many erotic shops in which the pieces were once found, alongside the bright eyed amazement of any child taken to his first carnival, where many of the other, more innocent signs also stem.

Alongside these huge constellations are smaller and sweeter designs, simple love hearts and crowns, small enough to stand on a nightstand.Many of the pieces have been created by Christopher Bracey, a British neon artist who sadly passed away two years ago. He allegedly stated that most of his early commissioned work for instigated by the rising sex industry, benefited by the allure of his luscious and alluring signs. His death was voiced through Twitter with the touching and poignant message, "Just wanna let you know I am actually in Gods Own Junk Yard”, fitting to his life works, and the gallery continues to be run by relatives.

If out and about in London, I would highly suggest a trip down to Gods Own Junkyard to visit the neon delights. It is however only open on weekends, but the included café, the ‘Rolling Scones’ makes it well worth the excursion for the ability to sit down to a cheery slice of cake and take in the glittering lights.

Of course, you can also rake out a small fortune to purchase one of the delectable installations, although the prices don’t come cheap, one of the more known pieces, ‘Don’t Worry’ sold for £40,000 back in 2014. Many of the pieces are however up for hire, if you do fancy your name in shining lights, perhaps for your 21st if not a star studded career.

Gods Own Junkyard

Unit 12 Ravenswood Industrial Estate

Shernhall Street

London

E17 9HQ