Maggots. It's the first sweeping chicane at Silverstone and, disappointingly, does not relate to a challenging infestation of medieval larvae. Rather, the screamingly pleasant Maggots Moor, which is next to the village of Whittlebury, just to the north-east of the circuit.
It's one of the quintessentially odd names given to each of the kinks and ruffles that make up the circuit, which began life - as many did - as an airstrip, left rotting at the end of World War II. But, like most British institutions, the legendary circuit wasn't conceived in a moment of careless serendipity - it was the result of meticulous planning and painstaking negotiations.
See, the Royal Automobile Club wanted to bring back international motor racing to the UK after the war effort, and chose the Northamptonshire site in 1948 because it was slap-bang in the middle of England. Accessible for many, fed by a decent road network, plenty of room for spectators, and the result of lengthy, difficult talks with legislators.