My park.

I consider myself very lucky to have access to beautiful parks across London. Your average capital-dweller rushes from A to B, via tubes and crowded buses, picking up shopping from M&S or Tesco metros and huffing at slow tourists on escalators. If you manage to take time out from the daily grind however, you can find plenty of peace, 'countryside' air and a few little gems in the various parks around the city.

I try to avoid Hyde Park on sunny weekends, not because it isn't very lovely (I love the Kensington Gardens side best) but because every student, tourist and passer-by heads to the centre of the park as soon as the sun comes out and it can start to feel a bit like Blackpool in the height of August. Ditto Regents Park and Clapham Common, even though the latter is on my doorstep. The problem with the Common is that not only are there smug families, icecream eating couples and the odd football game, there are also runners by the dozen, weaving in and out and charging up the straights. Not the recipe for peace and introspection.

My favourite park therefore is Holland Park, sandwiched between its namesake road at Kensington High Street. Apparently this was a favourite park of my granddads, who lived across the road above the hubris of the junction between Ken High Street and Earls Court Road. It is also conveniently half way between work and my train station at Ken Olympia, so the perfect place to pause after work. The beauty is in the little areas, hidden walkways and mixture of rough and untouched woodland and pristine lawns surrounding the Marco Pierre White restaurant or the Japanese Garden. Amongst the squirrels (and the odd peacock) it feels a million miles away from the fast pace of London life and the frantic pace of my mind whirring. I suggest a visit if you're near: pick a bench, walk the circuit or just meander around the trees. And breath.