Things to love about Cricklewood

The first of a series exploring the unique beauty of the most extraordinary urban environment in the world.

The dew forming on the cracks in the concrete footpaths and soaking into it, in patterns.

The grey, green and brown plastic bins strewn about the streets after the bin men have come.

The buzz in Prince's kebabs after the pubs have shut.

The fruit man on Oaklands Road, heartily cheering, "One poun'! One poun'!"

The Beacon Bingo and its incomprehensible car parking policy, proudly displayed on the gates.

Pound-saver shops with more stock on the streets than in the store.

Mini-skirted underage girls in bright colours, parading between the KFC and the Crown, wondering whether they look mature enough to get allowed in either.

The low cost supermarkets and their low end foodstuffs.

The staff at those same supermarkets and their extraordinary ability never to smile, under any circumstances, ever. They are like our own Buckingham Palace guards.

The population's universal understanding that a red man on a traffic light is merely an indicative suggestion.

The honour system that still operates, largely ignored, at the railway station.

The shirt and tie attempts by Vodafone and Natwest to bring a touch of propriety. Many Cricklewood residents already refer to this part of the Broadway as "the City". In which case, Finbarr's would be Romford and Chichele Road, Notting Hill.

The dappled sunlight, brightened to a glare, as it bounces off the bricks of the monolithic B&Q and then lolls about playfully on the fields of bitumen carpark.