As we set off from Hyde Park the teams drove in convoy to Buckingham Palace, down the mall and on to Trafalgar Square. The plan had been for each car to do three laps of the roundabout and then head for the coast. In reality, the roundabout just wasn't big enough for forty bangers and the usual London traffic. The scene quickly descended into chaos as the convoy caused grid lock around Trafalgar Square. All the teams where hanging out there windows, blasting their air horns and watching their cars overheat before the rally had rally begun. Bus drivers became frantic, and after twenty minutes everone had to abandon the roads in favor of the pavement if they were ever to get off the island. The teams then sped off in different directions, each convinced they knew the quickest way out of London. Personally I felt sure that the quickest way to start our trek east, was to head west to the M25 before turning left towards dover.
We made Dover in good time, at least three hours before our ferry would depart. We had no choice, we parked up in a leisure centre and decided to take in the sights. It's fair to say that the Britain's historic gateway to our European neighbours is one of the most depressing cities in the country, so a tour of the sights took all of five minutes before our enthuiasm dissapeared. We found some seats outside a bar by a central square and decided to have a final English pint of warm Fosters. They guy on the table next to us, probably called Dave, was drunk, and probably a bit damaged. He invited himself into our conversation to share with us his pathological hatred of banks, estate agents and palm trees. Initially we smiled politely and nodded. Then we turned away and talked amongst ourselves. Dave was oblivious to this and his rants became wilder and wilder. I'm sure he was an employee of Dover's tourist board, because after twenty minutes we abandoned our pints and returned to our sight seeing.