Do not go to Milton Keynes. As far as you can steer clear. Avoid it with all the tenacity and ingenuity you have at your disposable. But if you find it impossible to avoid a visit to this dreadful drive-through city, you can do no better than to lunch at the charming Bogota Coffee Company.
The other week I found myself stuck in this monstrous made-up metropole and I will not shy away from confiding in you that it had a significant and deleterious effect on my soul. I am still undecided which Keynes I despise more, John Maynard or Milton. But my distaste for deficit spending and central banks aside, I can assure you that entering the realm of M.K. was like staring upon the vast, bleak, godless face of the modern world without respite.
As such, I was in need of a good buckaroo. Cedric, the chap to turn in these situations, was happy to suggest an excellent establishment for such purposes: the Bogota Coffee Company. Bogota, as you well know dear reader, is the capital of Colombia, but much to my surprise there was a distinct lack of cocaine. In actual fact what I found was a charming café, with friendly staff and free wifi.
I ordered a pot of tea and a pastrami, mustard and cheese sandwich. I feel that Cedric probably expects me at this point to discuss the food in greater detail. Unfortunately, I believe I am constitutionally incapable of describing food. Of course, you would think this was a prerequisite for a food reviewer, and no doubt you would be right. But having tasted the food, digested it, and followed the usual concluding procedures, I find myself unable to apply adequate adjectives to the experience. All I can say is that it was very nice. The milk came in a small glass replicating old-fashioned milk bottles, which was a pleasant surprise.
I suppose every putrefying place must have its saving grace. No doubt within the bustling and heaving streets of decadent Babylon there was a Bogota café. A piece of calm in a world fleeing internal repose.