Media City, Salford

I wanted to go for two reasons: I had memories of hope for the Salford docks from my university days, reignited when I heard former BBC  Director General Greg Dyke talking at last year's London Policy Conference about why he insisted on shifting part of the BBC -- and its programming department (aka the folks with money) up to Manchester. But it was also because I grew up with a tapesty hanging in my grandparents Huddersfield home of folks going to work and I wanted to see it for myself at the Lowry arts centre.

The Peel Group, who own Media City land, and the local authorities have done everything right according to the cluster policy guidebook. The transport is excellent: a modern tram whisks you there from Manchester City Centre in minutes, a fact hammered home in much of the promotional material. There's a waterside location, and not one but two museums (including The Imperial War Museum, with a fantastic view from the roof), each in signature Guggenheim-esque style (even if the architecture has been criticised). They've scored a prestigious client in the BBC, whose money and pretige is likely to attract supplier firms to settle in the area. ITV is even relocating the entire set of Coronation Street. There's a shopping centre, which was reasonably busy on a wet Sunday, even if the art gallery staff moaned about the choice of shops (mainly discount designer - we stocked up on Molton Brown). A few restaurants, mainly chains, cling onto the shops, and if you eat in them you can park for free for six hours. The security staff in the BBC buildings are friendly and knowledgeable, happy to talk you through recent changes, and those still to come. If that weren't enough, Manchester United football grounds are 10 minutes walk away.

Still, it's a very different fish to the gritty urban grain of London's Tech City. With so much going for it (and prices for a waterside loft much cheaper than anything I could imagine in London), Media City has got to be a success, of sorts. But the creative vibe that people told us they valued so much in inner East London is, for the moment at least, missing.

Bury market

Lucky Bury. Unlike neighbouring Rochdale, whose unhappy recent fame is coupled with a decaying city centre,  Bury has a thriving "world famous" market, which signs proclaim has been voted the Great British Market of the Year.

I ventured the market's favourite produce: black pudding. Not usually my favourite food.....

Kew Gardens

Wonderful, wonderful David Nash exhibition at Kew Gardens. I shall have to go again to explore the gardens and their enchanting greenhouses, so distracted was I by these wonderful wooden sculptures that fit so well into this environment. Takes me back to Edinburgh's Gallery of Modern Art, when it was located in the Botanical Gardens and my sister and I would climb all over the statues....

Protecting views across The Thames

Interesting debate at the NLA this morning over world heritage body UNESCO’s recent call for greater control over the planning of tall buildings on the South Bank, to protect sight lines from the Tower of London and Parliament Square. Sadly, it was turned by some into a little Enland spat against meddling French foreigners (UNESCO) and what was labelled the anti-development lobby. I couldn't help thinking that had there been a few more women on the panel, we would have been spared thrusting male aggression in favour of ever taller buildings. Instead, we could have had a reasoned debate over whether more medium height buildings of say 5, 6 or 7 storeys might be more attractive to live amongst instead of dotted pricks to the skyline. 

Fabulous Dungeness

I have never been anywhere like Dungeness. On holiday in Hastings, we decided to venture a trip to this village in the shadow of a nuclear power station because the filmmaker Derek Jarman had lived there, and the images from his films attracted us. Still, we had no idea what we were letting ourselves in for. A curious mixture between a French fishing village and an American trailor park, it managed to feel deserted and full of people at the same time. Many were visitors - fishermen or bird watchers, or possibly minature train enthusiasts. But what of the people who live in the wooden houses? Were they fishermen? Did they work in the power station? What did they think of the tannoy annoucements? Or the dunes of stones? Or the ghosts of fishing boats that stood half way up the beach, where the water once lapped? According to one of the two resident artists, the place is divided into the recreational quarter, holiday homes to working class families, and the "rufty tufty" locals, who mostly make a living from the sea. It is a truly enchanting and bewildering place, that according to the other artist, never stops inspiring, even after 30 years.