Alistair Steward

After a tip-off from a Hungarian living in London, I set off to find Csepel, a mysterious semi-abandoned industrial estate and monument to the former industrial might of Soviet Russia.

Selling dreams of class, celebrity and sex to the masses, the bizarre names of nightclubs are the highlight of the weekend...

For London’s landlords and estate agents the streets might as well be paved with gold because they contain herds of walking, talking mugs who are looking to be taken for a ride on the runaway train that is the city’s rental market.