Brian Schofield

STAMFORD, Lincolnshire

Stamford used to be on the way to somewhere. Forty coaches a day rattled into the George Hotel en route between London and York, and there was stabling for 300 horses. Then the A1 kinked around the outskirts, and time stopped. Today, people come mainly to film costume dramas: Rufus Sewell curled a lip here in Middlemarch; Judi Dench arched an eyebrow in Pride and Prejudice.

No wonder: this is the smartest little stone town in England, a sort of bijou Bath, populated by country squires instead of city sloanes. Stand in St George’s Square, its sash windows still blacked out to save on window tax, and you can almost hear the echo of cartwheel on cobble.

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Beside the square are the Georgian assembly rooms (01780 763203, www.stamfordartscentre.com), a good place to find out what’s on this evening – probably a recital by the chamber orchestra, or some outdoor Shakespeare at nearby Tolethorpe Hall. Very Stamford. Next, promenade down to the river meadows that sluice right through town, and admire the porcupine skyline of limestone church steeples. Better still, do all this in a top hat and spats.

Stamford is no musty relic, though. The shopping gets trendier by the week, with bespoke dress emporiums, upmarket delis and at least half a dozen expensive frippery boutiques, where you can spend £50 on a wickerwork coffeepot or a pink-feather picture frame. Even the secondhand shop (Arch, Maiden Lane) is posh – it calls itself a “label agency” and sells nearly new Valentino handbags for £300.

On Sunday, leave town. On one side of the River Welland, the road snakes south to Burghley House (01780 752451, www.burghley.co.uk; admission £10.90), with its frescoed staterooms, fallow deer and sculpture gardens. Alternatively, choose the road west to Rutland Water, a thoroughly modern pleasure lake offering windsurfing lessons, trout fishing, bike hire and climbing walls (www.anglianwaterleisure.co.uk).

The dinner: Jim’s Yard (01780 756080, www.jimsyard.biz; about £20 for two courses), set in a crooked cloister behind the high street, does great things with classic combinations: wild-mushroom risotto, scallops with bacon, venison with red cabbage. Chef-patron James Trevor would probably have a Michelin star if he charged more – he has a bib gourmand instead.

Afterwards, waddle along to the Tobie Norris in St Paul’s Street, a beautiful new boozer set in a medieval meeting hall, with tipsy floors, fizzing logs and apricot-flavoured ales from Stamford’s All Saints Brewery.

The digs: the George Hotel (01780 750750, www.georgehotelofstamford.com) may well be England’s consummate coaching inn, its warren of rooms fortified by pikestaffs and pink gins, its cobbled courtyard laid out for high teas in summer. The bedrooms are cosy, too: from £130 for a double.

The diary: an exhibition on the Age of Elizabeth runs at Burghley House until October 30. The outdoor Shakespeare season is happening now, until August 30 (www.stamfordshakespeare.co.uk). And the farmers’ market, namechecked by the Bard in Henry IV, Part II, is back in business – fortnightly Fridays (next one on Friday) in Broad Street.

Vincent Crump

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