I’d like to say I grew out of this… but now I’ve simply turned my attention to hidden bars and restaurants. Luckily for me, London has plenty of them. Here are my favourite five:

The Breakfast Club, Spitalfields
Kitted out in colourful 1980s kitsch – including a neon sign printed with the words ‘Sex, drugs and bacon rolls’ – this is a must for brekkie-fiends who love nothing better than syrup-soaked pancakes and epic fry-ups. But the best bit by far is the white Smeg fridge at the back of the cafe. Just say to a staff member, ‘I need to see the Mayor’ and you’ll be transported through the fridge-cum-portal into a retro cocktail bar with moose heads and a mirrored disco ball!

Callooh Callay, Shoreditch
There’s a hint to this place’s hidden secret on its web page. On a side street in East London, this cocktail bar has more to it than quirky decoration, delectable bar snacks and yummy cocktails. Step into the Narnia-esque wardrobe at the back and you’ll find a secret room for those in need of a quieter evening, tucked away from the buzzing bar.

Upstairs, Brixton
You could walk past this terraced house several times and be none the wiser about its delights. But, by its non-descript buzzer, you’ll spot a tiny little sign for ‘Upstairs’. Ring the bell and you’ll soon find yourself in a lovely little French restaurant, with a very tasty menu that changes every fortnight.

The Key, Marylebone
This new speakeasy bar in Marylebone has an intriguing entry policy – first you need to actually find the deli bar it’s situated in, and then you need a key. Tweet the bar and, once you have a secret password (which changes regularly), you’ll have to find your way to the deli’s bathroom to discover a large 1920s-decorated venue adorned with chandeliers and complete with a secret garden.

La Bodega Negra, Soho
Tucked behind the facade of a sex shop in Soho, many would miss this Mexican restaurant. Follow the bright neon sign that says ‘Come’ and a downward pointing arrow, and you’ll discover the unique underground bistro, serving Tequila, quesadillas and lamb tacos.

Laura Manning

1. The Flagstaff, Hampstead Heath, 134m*
A common misconception has it that Parliament Hill is the beautiful Heath’s highpoint.  But that’s complete codswallop: London’s highest non-manmade spot is actually about a third of a mile west, by Whitestone Pond, where Spaniards Way and North End Road meet. It’s very close to the former pub, Jack Straw’s Castle, and to The Flagstaff, where a billowing City of London flag marks where a fire beacon first warned of the Spanish Armada in 1588.  Behind is West Heath, perhaps London’s foremost cottaging location. Also nearby is London’s only never-used tube station.

2. Shooter’s Hill, Greenwich 132m*
Heading up a neighbourhood of the same name, Shooter’s Hill is an idyllic green climb with views as far north as Wembley on a clear day.  Things weren’t always this peaceful at South London’s number one peak, though: the mound supposedly takes it name from the highwaymen who congregated there in the 1600s to rob struggling carriages, while Pepys’ diary for 1661 has him passing under “the man that hangs upon Shooters Hill”, presumably a hung highwayman left to rot as a warning to others.  And then, more recently, Shooter’s Hill housed an array of anti-aircraft guns which helped protect London during the Second World War.

3. North Hill, Highgate, 129m*
“If you’re ever up on Highgate Hill on a clear day / You can see right down to Leicester Square”: so warbled the former Kinks frontman Ray Davies on London Song in 1998.  What Ray didn’t say is that even better views await on North Hill, a giddy 29m higher still.  In between these two vistas lies the famous Highgate village: a Georgian dream of steeples, quaint shops, squares and copper domes.  On one of the surrounding slopes is Highgate’s atmospheric Victorian cemetery, the resting place of Karl Marx. Douglas Adams and, quite newly, Alexander Litvinenko.

4. Sydenham Hill, 112m*
Together with its flanks, Sydenham Hill’s the largest remaining tract of the Great North Wood, a vast oak forest that, in today’s money, extended from Croydon to Camberwell.  In the 17^th century, the surrounding area’s medicinal springs attracted crowds of people; some of the former wells in the area are within the current Sydenham Wells Park’s grounds, with still-active springs.  The way up the steep hill itself is today a popular cycling challenge, while the roads around it are lined with attractive, ostentatious Victorian mansions.

5. Westow Hill, Crystal Palace, 110m*
Westow Hill is a rather unremarkable part of the east-west A214, full of gridlocked traffic, pizzerias and double yellow lines.  But, as it approaches Crystal Palace Park, the views northwards down side roads are sensational, providing sweeping, silence-inducing glimpses of North London.  The precise peak is beside the boarded-up Cambridge pub, with the entrance to the Park just across the frenetic junction.  It hasn’t exactly earned rave reviews on Hill Bagging…

*Height above sea level

Richard Mellor

France – Pont Des Arts: Paris

Italy – Ponte Vecchio: Florence
Although shrouded in mystery, the love lock phenomenon in Europe is said to have started in Italy, attributed to the book I Want You by Federico Moccia, in which the young and in-love protagonists attach a lock to Rome’s Milvian Bridge. While visiting Florence last year, I discovered an assortment of padlocks attached to railings on the Ponte Vecchio and got snap-happy. The city council later decided that the padlocks were harmful to the aesthetics of the bridge and set about removing 5,500 of them. But a few lucky lovers’ locks still exist despite the threat of substantial fines.

China – Mount Huang: Huangshan
Some also suggest that this symbolic custom originated in China. On Mount Huang, every metal gate and fence is obscured by padlocks and, after sweethearts lock their souls together (cheesy, hey?), keys are thrown off the cliff deep into the misty abyss below.

Germany – Hohenzollern Bridge: Cologne
80,000 smitten kittens have hung 40,000 padlocks to the railings of the Hohenzollern Bridge in Cologne, adding two tons of weight to the bridge whilst thousands of tiny keys line the Rhine riverbed below. Deutsche Bahn, the bridge’s operator, once threatened to remove the locks but, in the face of romanticised public resistance, had a change of heart.

Russia – Luzhkov Bridge: Moscow
A whole love-lock forest exists on this bridge, which spans a Moscow River canal, as the Russian authorities decided to install metal trees to embrace the tradition. Hoards of wedding parties show up in hummer limos (classy) so the newlyweds can place a padlock on the tree. Then, if for any reason the husband or wife wishes to end their union, legend has it that they must dive into the freezing waters below to retrieve the key. It is said that divorce rates have thus declined in Moscow.

I, myself, wonder what happens when the committed couples do break up. Do you have to get the bolt cutters out? Possibly choose a combination lock instead? Or maybe, just maybe, this is the key to everlasting love…

Laura Bardell

Café New York, Budapest
There’s something rather special about sipping espresso in opulent surroundings. Set in the Boscolo Budapest hotel, this elegant café features grand ceilings adorned with marvellous frescoes and sparkling chandeliers. It has a fascinating 100-year history, frequented by famous writers, intellectuals, painters and actors over the years. Apparently the renowned writer, Ferenc Molnár, even threw the café’s keys into the Danube River so that it would never close. I like Ferenc. Erzsebet korut 9-11.  

The Bridge, London
I can happily spend an entire afternoon in this quirky café. It looks like it has been there forever, yet only opened a few years ago. Its interior bursts with character – think Baroque-inspired seating, traditional old cash tills, hundreds of framed picture frames hanging off every wall, vintage mementos and subdued lighting. The coffee is top notch, served from beautiful golden machines and there’s an interesting choice of food stacked on the shelves. 15 Kingsland Road, Shoreditch.

Bow Truss, Chicago
Coffee connoisseurs must not miss Bow Truss during a visit to Chicago. This cool warehouse space combines a café with an on-site roaster so the coffee beans couldn’t be any fresher. Staff are really friendly and visitors are welcome to take a tour of the facility to learn more about the roasting process and brewing methods. 2934 N Broadway, Lakeview.

Da Matteo, Gothenburg
Swedes take their coffee seriously and I love them for that. Coffee breaks – known as ‘fika’ – are a national institution there, with locals gathering at stylish independent cafés to share a good gossip over coffee and sweet pastries. Gothenburg has a great fika scene and one of the best cafés is Da Matteo – an organic bakery, coffee roastery and shop offering a shiny collection of home coffee-brewing equipment. There are four branches in the city, including on Viktoriapassagen.

Lindt Chocolat Café, Sydney
Can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but forget the coffee and order a hot chocolate here instead. You’re given a pot of liquid Lindt chocolate to pour into a cup of steamed milk… pure heaven. And, if that’s not enough, there’s an array of mouth-watering Swiss chocolate treats to munch on, including posh truffles, cakes and ice-cream. There are a few Lindt Chocolat Cafes in Sydney, including at 104-105 Cockle Bay Wharf, Darling Harbour.

Stephanie Reed

Athens’ National Archaeological Museum is home to an exhibition – The Antikythera Shipwreck – that I can’t recommend too highly; it runs from now to the end of August 2013.

In around 1900, an amazing bounty was discovered on board a shipwreck dating back to the first century BC. This included works of art dating from 400 to 100 BC, bronze couches pre-dating Christ, and the ‘Antikythera device’ – a a complex system of gears, axles, dials and levers that has fascinated and befuddled scientists for the past 100 years. It has, over the years transpired that, using this device, the Ancient Greeks could predict eclipses of the moon and sun, understand the solar system and the complexities of the lunar calendar, and forecast future specific dates with great accuracy.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Outside the exhibition, in the museum’s shady courtyard, there are three or four quite large tortoises (probably 100 years old themselves) wandering (very slowly) about. It’s a entertaining diversion after the cultural impact of the galleries within the museum.

Hop on the underground (itself a fascinating archaeological showpiece – why didn’t they do something similarly inspired in London when digging out the Jubilee Line, instead of creating such a grey and uninspiring concrete and metal monstrosity?) and head for the new Acropolis Museum.

Rightly voted in the top three Best Museums Worldwide (the first two being the Smithsonian and the British Museum) in The Times (11^th May, 2013) in an expert panel review, the Acropolis Museum is situated on an ancient road leading to the Acropolis and is just beneath the famous outcrop that houses the Parthenon and so much more.  Flooded with light, the modern building looks dramatic by day and by night – the so-called Elgin Marbles (well, the parts that remain after Lord Elgin removed the others which are now, contentiously, held in the British Museum) are lit at night and clearly visible in their top-floor eyrie from nearby hotel roof-top bars.

After a browse, head for the excellent second-floor restaurant, which specialises in regional dishes and wines from all over Greece.  The extensive outdoor patio offers direct views of the Acropolis (and the floor to ceiling windows do similarly should you prefer to dine indoors).

If you haven’t previously visited the Acropolis itself, an early morning start and an expert guide are highly recommended – you will get so much more out of your visit with a guide explaining that the Acropolis was the market-place of ancient Athens, with soothsayers and the hubbub of crowds around the temples.

I must go back again, and explore more!

Sue Ockwell travelled to Athens with Travel PR’s client Sunvil Holidays.

1.    Sushi School, Camden

Yo! Sushi offers an hour-long ‘Mini Ninjas’ sushi-making class. Storm (a sushi-savvy young lady who has a great way with kids) teaches you how to make maki, nigiri, gunkan and hand rolls, and you leave armed with enough sushi (your own creation) to feed a family of four, your own rolling mat and a certificate – all for £10 pp. OK, so you’re joining in (your emails will have to wait) but gimme food over fossils any day.

2.    Westfield, White City

You can kill the best part of a dreary day here between shopping, cinema and lunch. All you’ve got to do is trail around Build-a-Bear and the Disney Store for a bit, agree on a lunch you’ll all like (could even pass as cultural since there’s Japanese, Indian, Lebanese, Mexican and Malaysian), and catch the latest PG – an excellent opportunity to catch up on some sleep, once you’ve shared a big bag of pic ‘n’ mix, of course.

3.    Eddie Catz, Putney or Wimbledon

OK, not the most serene of environments – kids running around like giddy goats, thrill (and noise) level escalating every time the costumed cat (or tiger, or whatever he is) appears. But, you can drink coffee and barely have to move (unless you, or they, need the loo), knowing they can’t get out and can’t bang their heads too hard in their padded (soft play) cell. Children over 90cm pay £5.75 to get in, and adults just £1 – unless you’re under 90cm in which case maybe you’d get a discount.

4.    Pottery Café, Fulham, Richmond or Battersea

This verges on the enriching, surely (in a passive parenting way, at least)? But again, importantly, it allows sitting, caffeine, and a reasonable amount of zoning out, save for having to occasionally express interest and praise when shown a half-painted piggy bank. Armed with their chosen piece of handmade pottery – plus paints, brushes and sponge shapes – children get to decorate something they can keep (for collection a week later). The ‘studio fee’ is £5.99 pp, plus the cost of the pottery (from £6.95 for an egg cup).

5.    Diana Memorial Fountain, Hyde Park

On a sunny day, if you plant yourself in the middle or on the edge of this great ring of Cornish granite, kids can roll up their jeans and wade around a moving, circular stream of water, splashing in its rapids and waterfalls. It’s one of London’s gratis treats, you can take a picnic, and it involves no physical exertion on your part. Bar an upwards glance every couple of minutes, you could even get away with reading a book.

Mischa Mack

London, early-2011.  Four trends explode: Dalston, pop-ups, ping pong and supperclubs.  As befits an exploding trend, they all immediately implode, and are mostly now, two years hence, officially ‘over’.  To the point where Harry Styles is partying in Dalston, pop-ups are as exciting as press releases and table-tennis bars are ten-a-penny.

Suppercubs, though – supperclubs are different.  Sure, they’re no longer the height of cool, but they do continue to prosper.  The best ones worldwide still easily sell out; like the very best hot new fads, supperclubs – and I mean them in the truest sense: occasional, fixed-menu dinners for groups of strangers in closed-door domestic homes – have gone on to become permanent fixtures.

After going to various London clubs, however, I personally now yearn to attend exotic overseas versions.  There’s no shortage, but here are ten that especially tempt:

Thyme, Berlin
As befits one of the coolest cities on the planet, Berlin is rich in kooky private dining clubs.  Running since 2010,   is helmed by an amateur chef from Bristol and expunges the virtues of good old-fashioned English fodder across expansive seven-course menus.  With room for up to 18 visitors, the venue is a large third-floor studio apartment in a 120-year-old building in Prenzlauer Berg. (Monthly on Fridays; approx. £34)

Brooklyn Fork & Spoon, New York City
The same applies to NYC, where, of course, the coolest-sounding supperclubs are all in Brooklyn.  I like the sound of Brooklyn Fork and Spoon, in which co-founders Rebecka and Mardi dish up omnivorous food to be eaten with the eponymous cutlery in a Greenpoint apartment.  In a 2012 interview, Mardi explained: “I actually don’t like using the word vegetarian to describe our club because I tend to associate the word with a lot of fake meat and soy products, which is not the kind of food we prepare.  I want to share my love for vegetables, grains and legumes, and to show people how a meal can be incredibly satisfying without leaving you in a ‘food coma’.”  (Suggested donation £26)

Jim Haynes’ Sunday Dinners, Paris
The classic supperclub.   From Louisiana and raised in Venezuela, Jim Haynes has been hosting up to 100 guests (more in summer, when the garden can be used) every Sunday evening since the ‘70s in his 14^th arrondissement atelier, a former sculpture studio.  A chosen friend does the cooking, while Jim tells how he started a theatre and used to hang out with Ginsberg, and somehow remembers everyone’s name.  All are welcome – any age, any nationality; you just have to call or send an email. (Approx. £21)

Cocina Sunae, Buenos Aires
Buenos Aires abounds in puertas cerradas, and one of the best-sounding is Cocina Sunae in the Colegiales barrio.  Inspired by host Cristina’s Korean, Flipino and Japanese roots (as well as her time in a Thai restaurant in New York), it focuses on pan-Asian cuisine.  A typical meal begins with a ginger kamikaze cocktail, and goes on to include Thai hot & sour soup, Vietnamese summer rolls, a tasty Thai curry and Key Lime Pie – all topped off with a signature green-tea ice cream. (Approx. £23)

Cobra Ottawa, Ottawa
Is Cobra Ottawa still running? True to form, the answer’s a bit of a mystery, but I think so – a tweet in January suggests as much.  The project works like this: Cobra is a nomadic restaurant run by a collective of talented young Ottawa chefs, and held in different houses with the menu wholly dependent on the chosen cook’s whims.  You express interest by submitting your email: then, after answering a food questionnaire, your name is added to a list.  Six winners (all with a +1) are randomly selected each time, and issued with instructions on where to meet.  In the most recent account I could find, the attendee was told he’d see “a person with hangers” at an innocuous intersection.  (Donation approx. £66, all of which goes to charity)

La Cuisine Secrete, Montevideo
Elsa Manelphe’s eccentric Le Cuisine Secrete parties come with a fun geographical theme: former examples have seen her Ciudad Vieja home decorated in the style of Casablanca and Shanghai.  The spicy nosh has French, Creole and Asian accents thanks to Elsa’s exotic background: she was born on the Indian Ocean island of Réunion, and raised in Marseille, before settling in Uruguay’s exciting capital city.  As well as taking LCS on tour, she also runs a pop-up restaurant around Montevideo.  The official manifesto reads as follows: “NO ADDRESS.  NO MENU.  NO CHOICE.  NO SHIT.  IT’S A SECRET.  IT’S LIVE.  IT’S FRESH.  IT’S La Cuisine Secrete.”  Brilliant.  (Approx. £35)

First on the Right, Copenhagen
This one’s verrrrry exclusive – and very expensive.  Just 16 people get invited to try First on the Right’s nine courses and seven wine pairings (plus sherries), all created and chosen by celebrity chef Mettesia Martinussen.  Informed of the address via post, you head to a quiet street round the back of Charlottenborg Palace, locate the relevant apartment building and hit the buzzer marked 1.th (‘first floor, on the right’).  Inside a glamorous drawing room awaits with scarlet wallpaper, Royal Copenhagen china, an antique turntable and a crystal chandelier… (Approx. £109)

Mama Isa’s Supper Club, Padova
A short train-ride from Venice, Padova’s a walled university city known for its Giotto frescoes.  It’s also where the legendary Mama Isa hosts guerilla dinners in her modern apartment.  Labelled an ‘anti-anti-restaurant’ in reaction to more stylised affairs, her supperclub offers more home-made fare, with all the recipes created by Isa’s mother and grandmother.  The set, multi-course menus always include hot and cold appetizers, a mid-meal sorbet to cleanse the palate and wine throughout.  A maximum of six guests can attend, and Isa’s family are also present, rather charmingly.  Book via the website or Mama Isa’s blog; she also offers cooking classes. (Nominal donations expected)

Down The Rabbit Hole, Ghent
Once a month in Ghent – a Belgian coastal port known for bicycles, beer, cobbles, cathedrals and canals – Down The Rabbit Hole hosts a secret supper for 12 lucky diners.  Both menu and venue constantly change, but both are always unusual – the picture to the right is of a boat-based event from 2012, for example.  I especially like how relaxed it all sounds: they promise “culinary delights and matching drinks without the high price tag, the cool setting and sometimes strict etiquette.”  (Approx. £26-£43)

Middagsklubben, Gothenburg
We represent the West Sweden Tourist Board, so I felt obliged to include a Gothenburg option.  Luckily, Middagsklubben sounds as cool as you’d expect a Swedish supperclub to be: it’s run by Jasmine Soufi, a “travelling bon vivant who thinks it’s a wonderful idea to get people together and make them experience something special together, especially on a boring weekday.”  In her candlelit flat, strangers mingle during a three-course dinner with wine, welcome drinks and coffee.  (Approx. £41 incl. drinks)

For more suggestions, see SaltShaker’s ever-evolving list of worldwide supperclubs, or use Find A Supper Club.

(Richard Mellor)

The smell of freshly baked bagels, the iconic yellow cabs swarming the streets and the relentless sound of police and fire-engine sirens.  These are all features that, to some extent, define the city of New York. Having lived in the neighbouring state of Connecticut for seven years, I would frequently take in these sights and sounds when I headed into the city with my family.

So you might think that, whenever I fly back to the Big Apple, I now seek out New York’s more unusual attractions.  Nope: whenever I’m there, I’m still a sucker for taking in the conventional tourist activities – riding the ferry to the Statue of Liberty, admiring the views from the top of the Rockefeller Centre and reliving my childhood in American Girl Place on Fifth Avenue (a dolls’ apparel and make-over store which, trust me, is as weird and strangely wonderful as it sounds!).

However, on my most recent visit, I was advised to visit a completely new attraction: the High Line Park.  And, having acted on the suggestion, I would definitely pass on the recommendation.

So what is this ‘High Line’, I hear you asking?  Well, the High Line Park is a re-designed and rejuvenated section of a former freight rail line, initially built in the 1930s, which now acts as an aerial greenway.  It runs above the streets on Manhattan’s West Side for almost a mile and a half, from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District up to 30^th Street.

The first section of the High Line opened in June 2009 and the second in spring 2011.  It is a particularly attractive and unique park that prides itself on its sustainability: many of the original railway tracks, for instance, have been re-incorporated into the landscape as part of the park’s design.  This public space also blends plant life with long, narrow ‘planks’ that work to form a virtually seamless walking surface.  And the park incorporates water features, viewing platforms, a sun deck and gathering areas that are frequently used for performances and exhibitions; how very New York-esque!

When I visited the High Line it was about 9 o’clock on a very humid, thundery July night. However, this didn’t diminish my enjoyment one bit.  Quite the opposite – the steamy, sultry evening lent an added atmospheric dimension.  The High Line remained well-lit right up to its closing time and offered fabulous panoramas over the illuminated city, including views of the Empire State Building and across to the Statue of Liberty, as well as mother nature’s impromptu lightning show.

And, the icing on the cake?  The High Line is completely free, and therefore perfect for travellers on a slightly restricted budget!

(Charlotte Winter)

I’m not alone. Every other adult here is staring into the middle distance, trying to remember that they’re on the trip of (their child’s) lifetime. The kids don’t seem to mind, though, which is bizarre. This sort of wait – or even a quarter of it – would never be tolerated on home turf. But this is Disneyland, and Disneyland has cast its magic. Or, it’s the plastic buckets full of popcorn (sold in the hundred-odd on-site Disney stores) strapped around each and every one of their necks. They’re probably laced with Valium.

Anyway, eventually it’s our turn. At the front of the queue I can see now why it’s taken so long. Slinky Dog is being manned by some European youths with about as much fervour for childish fantasy as a dead dog. Weirdly, though, in between gum-chewing and idle gossip, what they are fervent about is on-board safety: they check the security bars of each canine compartment with such scrutiny I actually worry for a moment this is going to be akin to Space Mountain. Alas, no: our 90-second ride (yes, 90-second after 52 minutes!) make the Teacups seem positively alarming.

Okay, so it is the Easter holidays – what did we expect, right?  But shouldn’t Disney limit the number of tickets sold at peak times? Even with a Fast Pass, you’re spending around 90% of your day queuing – for rides, for food, for a bottle of water, for the loo, even to get out of the blasted place. I almost choked on my crummy €7 sandwich when someone told me that Disneyland Paris celebrated its 20^th birthday last year €1.9bn in debt. How is that possible?! (I’m shouting, in case you missed that). It’s swarming with thousands of us suckers, all haemorrhaging money at every turn, and still it’s not turning a profit?

Regardless of season, this place is fist-bitingly expensive. In Disney Village, restaurants are charging €18 for a kids’ burger and chips. You do get exactly what you order: a limp-looking burger (doubtless with a bit of cheval thrown in) and flabby frites. Not a morsel more – not even a carrot or cucumber stick as a vague gesture of good health. Forget it. You’re here for some good unwholesome fun and that’s what you’re darn well gonna get.

We later arrive at Café Mickey (left), having booked dinner a week ago, and wait another 25 minutes to be seated. So we do have a reservation, we are reassured – but only in the queue. And yes, Disney characters do appear to greet our child as she devours her fifth burger in three days, and they do do what they’re meant to do, which is basically a mixture of looking alarmed and hugging. But every time they have to suddenly dash off in the direction of the kitchen, you know it’s only because they’re gagging for their next fag break. And who’d blame them?

You’re never too old for Disney. Sacrilege to suggest it, surely? Well – sacré bleu – I am.

(Mischa Mack)

Flicking through a newspaper on the tube the other day, an advertisement caught my eye; an audition call for buskers. Considering them as musicians who’ve passed an audition put these performers in a different light for me, and I cast my mind back to those who’d made a lasting impression on me.

The first which came to mind was spied in Covent Garden. As I exited the tube, an unusual rendition of Oh When The Saints wafted through the air. Looking around in an attempt to find the source of this strange, muffled-trumpet-like noise, I spotted a man huddled around a traffic cone. How he discovered this innovative instrument beats me, but it pleased the crowds both on the street and online. YouTube videos aside (of which there are many), the traffic cone busker has appeared in many articles and blogs, including the aptly-named Urban Guide for Alternative Use.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Then, there was the flaming tuba in Victoria. Sitting on a speaker and smartly-dressed with a bowler hat, this musician played a mix of jazzy numbers while flames simultaneously shot out from the top of his instrument. With help from an entry on Street’s Got Talent (a website for ‘London’s hottest street performers’), I established this to be Christopher Werkowicz – a Polish busker who’s been playing the tuba since 2010. Another with a trusty following online, Fire Tuba – as he calls himself – has his own Facebook page with a few hundred fans.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Equally memorable, the third act involved a man, a guitar and a bright pink Muppets puppet. Unlike the previous two, who took centre stage out on the street, this busker played his set at the bottom of the escalators at Camden Town tube. Whilst he plucked the guitar and sang a range of well-known tunes, his sidekick puppet sat perched by his side, strumming on a tambourine.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In an age where people go around plugged in to iPods and phones, earphones in and oblivious to their surroundings,  these exotic musical interludes and snippets of concerts often go unheard.  When they are heard, however, it’s clear that many of the buskers on our streets are not simply musicians but genuine street artists.

(Helena Hamlyn)