Overnight at The Bull Hotel either before or after the British Grand Prix – it’s 20 minutes from the Silverstone circuit.

People tend to sneer when you mention the “new town” of Milton Keynes, built in 1967 as one of several to relieve London congestion. But there’s more to the place than ugly concrete facades and bewilderingly endless roundabouts – it also encompasses Stony Stratford, whose Watling Street was since Roman times the main thoroughfare from London to the north, and later famous as an overnight stop for stagecoaches.

The Bull Hotel (1609) is one of a handful of old hostelries that remain, and Roy and I spent the night there after the 2016 F1 British Grand Prix. Just along the High Street is The Cock, and this is apparently the origin of the expression “cock and bull story” – it refers to the gossip and tall stories exchanged by travellers at these old inns in days of yore. You can almost hear the clatter of ghostly stage-coaches through its arched entryway into the courtyard; but it’s more likely the sound of a barrel of real ale rolling across cobbles into the adjacent Vaults pub.

One of just 12 rooms, ours overlooked the Parish Church of St Mary and St Giles. Furnishing and décor throughout this little hotel are in new condition, cosy, mainly comfortable, and in keeping with its history. Our room had a spacious bathroom with a good shower, plus a couple of welcome features such as armchairs, a safe and even a fan. This being F1 weekend, the GBP135 we paid was understandably over the odds; happily, it included a full English breakfast, served all the way through to a civilised 11am.

Who names these beers?

Less civilised was the Bull’s kitchen closing at 6pm on a Sunday night. After a half of Wight Squirrel (lovely name!) at the Vaults, we had another of Hop Goes the Beagle (!) at The Old George Inn (www.theoldgeorge.com), a cosy 16th-century pub offering accommodation and known for its live music.

After that, dinner at the decidedly 21st-century Indian-Bangladeshi Kardamom Lounge (www.kardamomlounge.com), mainly because it was still open. Its ten-quid Sunday Gourmet deal included starter, main, side dish and bread or rice. Good service, good value and generally good and plentiful food, though the chicken vindaloo was, we agreed, so volcanically hot as to be virtually uneatable.

Gratuitous Limerick

A sign for Buckingham on the route back to Reading made me wonder aloud to Roy whether there might be a dirty limerick about that first-mentioned town. There was, yes, and the old sailor in him recalled and recited it at once. It’s far too filthy to repeat here, but I’m going to do so anyway:

There was a young man from Buckingham,

Who stood on the bridge at Uppingham,

Watching the stunts of the c***s in the punts

And the tricks of the pricks who were f***ing’em.

(Sorry.)

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