"So many things in the modern world have secret, hidden meanings," he said.
"Like what?" I said. I could accept some of what he was saying, true, but some of this stuff seemed to fantastic to be true.
"Roundabouts," he said. "They are almost without exception built on sites of long-established evil. The roundabout was always there, long before it was actually built."
I decided to show off some of my local knowledge at this point: "I know the first roundabout in Britain was built in Letchworth Garden City."
"Very true," he said. "This is why I avoid going there. Very ancient things lurk there. Things not to be invoked."
"What do you make Milton Keynes?" I asked. "Lots of roundabouts there. Including, if memory serves, a 'magic' one."
"Oh you must never go to Milton Keynes!" he said.
I was shocked at his vehemence: "Because of the ancient evils that lurk there now manifesting themselves as roundabouts?"
"No," he replied. "It's just really fucking boring there."