HELLO! We’re having a blast here in the static queue to the Port of Dover. Wish you were here!
I’m writing to you from the gridlocked traffic patiently waiting on the A2 Jubilee Way, where lines of cars and coaches stretch for as far as the eye can see. It’s a truly breathtaking panorama that’s as impressive as they make it sound on the news.
This place has got it all, except toilets, food, and all the sights and sounds of the actual holiday I’d booked. Not to worry though, we all make do by relieving ourselves on the side of the road or in a plastic bottle. It certainly beats camping!
We’ve met all sorts of interesting people. There’s a real mix of classes, from children from private schools on cancelled ski trips to Romanian HGV drivers saying ‘No more Britain jobs. Ever’ while giving us a cheerful thumbs-up. How lucky are we?
I’m not usually one to thank the French, but you’ve got to hand it to them. If they were checking passports more efficiently – which I’m assured is the sole reason for the delays – we would have been robbed of this once in a lifetime 17-hour tailback.
Anyway, must dash. The car in front has lurched forwards half an inch and if I don’t catch up then hundreds of motorists behind me will instantly lose their shit. It’s such fun! I’m definitely coming back next year.