Mrs M writes: much excitement, it's Neil's birthday. He claims to be 35 again but we're not sure we believe him. There was the usual tuneless rendering of Happy Birthday and then cutting of the cakes. Note plural. Also duly noted were the standard of the cakes. Very very smart which is only fitting obviously for a man of our Neil's stature. I'm talking professionally here of course. Anyway here is a very bad picture of the man himself cutting the posh cakes.

The move is done and we're now spread across two buildings, either side of Hanbury Street. Like any move, it's been a big upheaval: we're surrounded by crates and boxes, it's hard to tell what's rubbish and what's valuable equipment and everything's a bit provisional. But the new space looks awesome and we now have room to breathe and work. Above: the roof terrace. Nice views.

Some stairs. Useful when moving between floors.

A big, empty bit.

Paul and Angus creating magic in a garage. On cliched, uncomfortable bean bags.

Stairs to the mezzanine.

Nev, in the corridor that reminds me of The Masque of the Red Death.

Black bog.

Some people working.

Kitchen, with mezzanine area above. Shame we couldn't manage to get cabinets in matching colours.

I stuck myself to the ceiling like a human fly to take this shot.