Pop-up

Beguiling cop, slightly menacing cop

Pop-up restaurants may be nothing new in London, but they are around here. We received a heavily disguised email earlier this week which indicated that a couple of local foodies were indeed 'popping-up' soon. A subsequent text arrived giving us a little under twenty four hours notice to slot it in our diaries, set the Sat-Nav and make sure we could acquiesce to their quirky dress code.

So on Friday night, after battling against unusually heavy traffic, we arrived in the nick of time at the covert eatery where we were greeted by, it appeared to me, the shopkeeper from Mr. Benn; we never did find out his name but he's the sort of person who would probably seek you out rather than the other way around; I was told, in no uncertain terms, that details of our evening were not to be broadcast to all and sundry. Which is why I'm under strict instructions not to divulge anything that could identify where we were - so the menu and wine list, I'm afraid, amazing as they both were, have to remain a closely guarded secret. I know, it's crazy isn't it? But it was that sort of night.

However, our bearded friend didn't say anything about the music that was playing while we devoured course after course. I can, therefore, tell you that we listened to a lot of this:

It's only a matter of time

So how do you time travel? Mr Benn walks from his home at 52 Festive Road to the costume shop, Doctor Who relies on his Police Box and Captain Kirk just says 'Beam Me Up Scotty.' But surely the best way to travel through time is when it happens by accident: remember Gary Sparrow in Goodnight Sweetheart? He was just minding his own business one day, asking directions in the East End, and, before you can say Fight Them On The Beaches, our intrepid TV repair man is back in wartime London. Sam Tyler's method should not be tried at home i.e. being totalled by a speeding car - but the outcome was pretty much the same.

However, my favourite was dreamed up by Jack Finney in his 1950 short story The Third Level: Charley gets lost in New York's Grand Central Station and finds himself on a strange third level; somehow he's travelled back to 1894 complete with steam engines and spitoons - think Marty McFly without the DeLorean (or ZZ Top).

So where would you go if time was on your side? Or do I mean when? I'd love to see The Who tear up The Marquee in '64, stand behind the goal at Wembley in '66 (I'd sort the Geoff Hurst was it/wasn't it debate once and for all) and then, after a quick pint with Mick Jagger in The Speakeasy, it'd be time to come home. Scotty, beam me up.

Uriah Heep: Traveller In Time