The Big Foyles, Charing Cross Road
Books mean chairs. No serious institution would make you flick through a book while standing up. That would be inhumane. Pick up something chunky (perhaps Anthony Beevor’s Stalingrad?), find a chair and leave it in your lap. You’ll need to perfect the chin-down method of snoozing. A hat can be a useful addition for this strategy; that way no one can see you drooling. Plus, there’s a half-decent café at the top of the building.
The BFI Southbank
This is perfect. It’s like a giant concrete cruise ship moored under some dreary train line. You’ll find booths, tables and even snugs. There’s a bar towards the back with so many tables that I doubt even the staff have waited on every single one. No one will ask why you’re there. The BFI is a charity after all. If questioned, say you’re an international film student interested in the work of some obscure Polish director. BFI is one for the long snooze.
Parliament
Okay, you’ll need a pass. But once you’re in, this warren of Victorian corridors and meeting rooms is ideal. There’s a chair for every occasion. A corridor bench or quiet café corner in which to catch some Zs. According to one insider, the upper press gallery is almost never visited and is choc-a-bloc with empty desks. Lay down your coat, sleepy one. The desk shall be thy heavens.
Then there’s the old infirmary in the basement. It’s where the security guards sleep. There are, according to my mole, around 12 single cast-iron beds. You need to befriend a security guard to gain access. The mattresses are thin; however, fresh linen is provided.
The House of St Barnabas
It’s a private members’ club, but a liberal one. They train up the homeless to work in hospitality. In other words, they’re nice people. Walk up to the desk and say you’re here for Alan. Alan? Alan Yentob, of course! You’re with Netflix, he’s thinking of coming out of retirement. The best BBC commissioning editor of a generation, didn’t you know? Anyway, he said go straight through. Oh, he’s not on the system? Are you sure? I saw him having lunch with the guy from Pulp a few weeks ago. I’ll go and have a look for him now, thanks for your help.
Now head straight for the chapel. It’s a lovely little Oxford Movement number through the garden. Grab a prayer cushion and settle down in one of the curved transepts. No one’s actually going to come to pray in here. It’s a liberal private members’ club after all.
The Royal Courts of Justice
Similar to Parliament, but easier to get into. You just have to get through security. There’s no need to justify your visit. These big institutional buildings are the perfect place to while away an hour. Pretend you’re waiting for a case to start or for your barrister to arrive. The clerks are too busy to bother you. They’re public servants. When they get a moment, they’re probably sleeping in their own secret storage cupboard.
Courts are good places for a kip. Southwark Crown Court specialises in fraud. In other words, it’s an excruciatingly boring place. There’s also Westminster Magistrates’ Court if you’re in north-west London, although it does feel rather like a regional airport: lots of long rows of seating with little in the way of nooks. Be warned, courts shut early, normally around 6pm, so this is one for the afternoon nap.
