You don’t just drive through the Dartford Tunnel. You queue for it, like you’re waiting for a ride at a theme park that’s run out of fun. And once you’re in, it’s a very slow crawl. You’ll have time to re-evaluate your life choices—like why you didn’t take the train.
I swear, the tunnel has a personality. Some days it’s feeling generous, and you breeze through in fifteen minutes. Other days? It’s passive-aggressive, reducing you to a single lane for no reason. You end up staring at the same lorry for so long that you start naming it. “Oh, look, Barry the Bedford is back.”
The Dart Charge Shuffle
Remember when you could just toss coins at a booth? Now it’s all Dart Charge—a system designed to make you feel like a criminal. You have to pay online, or by app, or via carrier pigeon. Miss the deadline by an hour, and you get a fine that feels personal. “Dear Sir, you owe us £70 and a sincere apology.”
And the signs! “Check your number plate before entering.” Please. I can barely read in the dark while gripping the steering wheel like it’s a life raft. Half the time, I forget my own plate number anyway. Is it “BF04 MXY” or “MY04 BFX”? Who knows? Not me, that’s for sure.
