The wonderland perimeters have stretched somewhat of late...and shoreditch is the new playground! I feel like I've been on holiday for a week after hanging in the wigwam on the Queen of Hoxton's roof. The temptingly strong smells of sausages sizzling on the bbq, the air smooth with wafts of hot buttered rum...if I close my eyes I could believe I was at an apres-ski high up in the nearest snow capped hills. There is no need to venture to the three floors below unless you are interested in one of the live bands or DJs playing so I beat a hasty retreat when the clock struck 11pm and the growling bouncers shepherded us all downstairs away from the closing mystical wigwam! I left with hearts in my eyes...who needs a sweaty dance floor when you have delicious fresh air, fairy lights, a wishing well and a tipi I ask you??!