Remembering a legendary cat – the pub-crawling, fridge-raiding, pleasure-seeking Fat Freddy.
Once, London was a city of horses. Humans lived cheek by jowl with the 300,000 horses of cabmen, traders, laundrymen, grocers and rag-and-bone men. You can see the traces of that time everywhere: old stone drinking troughs, hidden cobbled mews, mounting blocks, slips and ramps.
Late Sunday night and Crewe Station is empty and deserted. But there is a lost world here, filled with the ghosts from a bygone era of variety theatre.
Unpeeling the layers of history in east Glasgow; a path of music and art; and a character who opened a massage parlour called Sheik-Ma-Tadger.