Let’s be honest: the Dartford Crossing already has a personality disorder. Some days it’s a bridge, other days it’s a tunnel, but it’s always a bottleneck wearing a hoodie. Throw a crash into the mix, and it becomes a full-blown traffic carnival.
I remember one guy who decided to walk his dog along the hard shoulder during a delay. The spaniel looked more relaxed than any human on that road. That dog understood what we all refuse to accept: you can’t fight the M25, you can only float with its chaos.
Emergency services were on the scene quickly—big respect to them. But for the rest of us, it was just a long, slow dance with our own impatience. You start checking your phone every twelve seconds, as if the traffic will magically see your WhatsApp status and part like the Red Sea. Spoiler: it won’t.
The Great Release
Eventually, the traffic clears. It’s like a dam breaking, but instead of water, it’s a flood of relieved drivers who now have to pee like racehorses. The speed picks up, and suddenly everyone is doing 50 mph like it’s the Indy 500.
Crash on M25 near Dartford Crossing causes traffic delays with four
You pass the crash site and see a crushed bumper, some orange cones, and a traffic officer looking bored. It’s always anticlimactic. You built up the drama in your head, and the reality is just… tarmac and fluorescent vests.
And yet, you feel a weird sense of accomplishment. You survived the M25. You didn’t honk too much. You even smiled at the guy in the van. You are a better person than you were an hour ago.
