Brunel Museum, Railway Avenue, Rotherhithe, south east London

Housed in a venerable old pump house, the two rooms of the Brunel Museum are devoted to the story of the construction of the first tunnel under a river anywhere in the world. The Thames Tunnel, hyped by the Victorians as the 'Eighth Wonder of the World', was designed by the pioneering engineer Marc Brunel. It opened in 1843, eighteen years after construction began. It is still used by Tube trains today. Unfortunately, this modest and somewhat unkempt museum (admission £2) fails to really convey the magnitude of this achievement. Pending the completion of a new museum enabling a much-needed expansion, the exhibits today are really limited to a model of the tunnel being constructed, some paintings and a couple of small, but clever, Victorian three-dimensional pictures of the tunnel. Downstairs, you can watch a DVD about Brunel's life, while the kids attempt to make their own 3D picture. There is a tiny cafe with a semi-obscured view of the river, while outside are a couple of unassuming sculptures of Tower Bridge and a steam engine aimed at children. 5/10

Southwark Park, south east London

Another spruced-up green space originally laid out by the Victorians, Southwark Park has a convincing replica of its original bandstand, monumental gates and a boating lake. Within its 63 acres, there is also a pleasant rose garden, a wildlife garden and many attractive, well-planted and well-kept borders. But its most picturesque feature has to be the avenues of large mature plane trees that criss-cross the northern end of the park. Elsewhere, there is a playground, football pitches, a sports centre, a cafe and even a small art gallery. Although council estates and blocks of flats loom over much of the greenery, Southwark Park is an appealing open space providing much-needed relief from the urban bustle and deprivation of surrounding Bermondsey. 7/10

The Tankard, Kennington Road, south London

A fairly Bohemian pub, the Tankard has attractive pained-windows and an unusual roof terrace overlooking the scrap of green grass next to the Imperial War Museum. Inside are some dilapidated pale green leather sofas, a bare, black floor, a handful of wooden tables and a couple of large mirrors with chunky ornate frames. But the distressed look is marred by a cash machine and a huge screen showing television, which is drowned out by the loud music on the stereo. The menu lists about a dozen 'oven-baked' pizzas, some featuring salmon and other novel toppings, in a choice of 12 inch (about seven to eight pounds) and six inch sizes (about three to four pounds), plus a selection of salads and side dishes. After ordering at the bar, the food can take a while to arrive and isn't really worth the wait. The Americano pizza is passable, but nothing special, while the six dough balls (about three quid) served with humus, sour cream or sweet chili, are rather hefty and stodgy. 5/10

Hakkasan restaurant, Hanway Place, Hanway Street, central London

Haunt of the rich and the beautiful, Hakkasan is a sassy Chinese restaurant tucked away in a large basement in a backstreet near Tottenham Court Road tube station. Nod to the bouncer, make your way down the stairs and past the small squad of cloakroom attendants. You'll be directed to a table in the dark dining room, which is divided up by black wooden screens decorated with striking geometric fretwork patterns, neatly framing the many glamorous patrons. The drinks menu includes unusual and enticing cocktails, novel Asian beers and an extensive selection of top-notch wines. If you don't want to burn too much cash, eat dim sum, which is smartly presented and generally delicious. Highlights include the juicy slices of lamb, the light and crispy prawn dumplings, served with seaweed, and the very succulent seabass. Among the deserts is a melt-in-the mouth cheesecake, luscious balls of ice cream and zesty fruit sorbets. Besides the high prices, Hakkasan's only weakness is the sometimes sporadic and curt service by the army of attractive young staff. 8/10

Hampton Court Palace, south west London

The extravagant, lion-topped stone gateway, the elongated chimneys and sprawling red-brick Tudor facade of Hampton Court Palace are a remarkable and inviting sight from the busy A308 that mars this picturesque and historic part of south west of London. The path from the gates to the palace is flanked on one side by a fine red-brick terrace and on the other by a tree-lined stretch of the Thames. Up close, you are struck by the scale of this well-preserved and handsome palace, which was built by social-climber Cardinal Wolsey in the early sixteenth century before being commandeered by the egomaniac, King Henry VIII. While the grassy Base Court is being renovated, you enter via an atmospheric cobbled courtyard enclosed by weathered red-brick walls, where you may be greeted by a couple dressed as medieval aristocrats. They usher you into the extensive Tudor Kitchens, where chefs in period costume may be preparing smelly medieval meals on ancient wooden tables and roasting meat on spits in front of the huge open fire. Above the kitchens is the extraordinary Great Hall, notable for its soaring and ornate hammer-beam roof, lavishly-carved wooden screens and elaborate sixteenth century tapestries.

Blackbird Bakery, Grove Vale, East Dulwich

Pocket-sized bakery selling crusty loaves of speciality breads containing everything from olives to sun dried tomatoes, plus succulent cakes, buttery croissants and other tempting fayre. You can also pick-up a reasonably-priced, but decent, coffee, and sit at one of the handful of cushioned stools lined up at the window bar. While this stretch of Grove Vale isn't much to look at, it is worth taking the short walk down from Lordship Lane to the Blackbird for a shopping pit-stop. There is another branch opposite Herne Hill station, where the food is equally good, but the music can be a tad too loud. 8/10

British Museum, Bloomsbury, central London

The mother of all museums, the British Museum is an imposing and vast neo-classical building surrounded by the Georgian terraces and squares of Bloomsbury. The hordes of visitors are initially sucked into the striking Great Court - a large rectangular space covered by a glass roof and surrounded by cream-coloured classical facades with doorways leading into the scores of galleries packed with antiquities plundered from across the ancient world. In the middle of the court is a large, circular reading room flanked by broad spiral staircases leading up to a smart restaurant at the top. To the east are several charming and venerable wood-panelled rooms, dripping with a sense of adventure and history. Behind glass panels is a wide variety of objects, from stone age axes to eighteenth century medals, designed to show the breadth of the museum's collection. Beyond these rooms is the Paul Hamlyn library where children can pick up backpacks, which contain a series of activities based around a couple of galleries in the museum, or a colourful booklet detailing one of half-a-dozen trails, which mostly involve spotting particular artefacts.

The Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan

Eleven-volume fantasy saga set in an extraordinarily-detailed and vast medieval world embroiled in a struggle between the forces of light and the minions of the Dark One. The storyline revolves around Rand al'Thor, a grim young man endowed with massive magic powers, and some equally dour friends from his home village. They reluctantly get caught up in saving the world from the chaos being wrought by the "Dark Friends" working under cover everywhere from taverns to royal palaces. These locations and the vast cast of characters are described in painstaking and, often turgid, detail. But all this effort to create a believable world is undermined by contrived plot twists often brought about by seemingly arbitrary supernatural powers wielded by weird entities, such as the all-knowing Aelfinn who reside in another dimension.

Occasionally the pace quickens
Jordan goes to great lengths to give women a prominent role in the series, but after a couple of thousand pages or so, many of the heroines begin to merge into one - nearly all the females in the books seem to moan incessantly, fiddle with their skirts or fold their arms under their breasts. Occasionally the pace quickens as Jordan remembers to include some action and there is the odd gripping passage, such as the tense and atmospheric opening to the first book. A former military man, the author is at his best describing battles, skirmishes and bar room brawls in bloody detail. This still unfinished epic, which should have been half the length, needs a good editor. 5/10