|The British do this sort of thing better than anyone else|
“Look at this, Emma!” City worker Rob Blind impressed upon his sleepy four-month old daughter, from a vantage point on the Cauldham Lane bridge overlooking the slow-moving procession. “You’ll never see a sight like this again for as long as you live – ordinary people who can afford a holiday!”
The most impressive barge of the day undoubtedly belonged to Mr Wayne Prunt, who delighted the cheering crowds and his latest girlfriend by gunning his antique BMW 318 and sailing through a layby south of Church Wood at 60mph. As he floated serenely past with a tuneful blast on his airhorn, a dozen finger-waving participants saw red, bared their white teeth and turned the air blue.
“This is a profoundly moving sight,” commented a delighted spokesman for the Dover Harbour Board as, one by one, participating vehicles flowed at an almost imperceptible pace onto a waiting ferry. “But only just.”