The shuttle on Friday lunchtime was full, and another full one would follow less than quarter of an hour later. Eurotunnel does good business in August.
Down at the back, in the upper deck, I’ve parked at the front of my coach, with a Range Rover next, that being filled by a couple and their teenage sons. If anything, departure from the UK terminal is a couple of minutes early.
After 25 minutes or so transiting the Channel Tunnel, we emerge at the French side to an even more sunny day than that in England. The two teenagers are fascinated by the high fences lining the top of the cutting, which at this point are there to keep folks out – for their own safety.
One of them has a guess as to its purpose: “Hey, do you think that’s the border?”.
Sometimes, Littlejohn is right. You couldn’t make it up.
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