To Dover from Calais, and: Tatler’s People Who Really Matter

To Dover from Calais

After midnight we drive through Sangatteon the outskirts, where teenagers rush to the tunnel

In the big-cat gleam of our headlampsthe boys pause for a heartbeat - disappear in a flash

If you’re not really a Syrianis it safer in the Congo, or Afghanistan?

While we all fiddle with our smartphonessniffer dogs inhale the articulated lorry

Two ferrymen tell me how they feelokay because they pull up the bridge and sail away

It’s only a joke if it’s funnyso I don’t laugh at ‘they weren’t exactly invited.’

Tell me, if Great Britain is so fullwhy is this middle-of-the-night-crossing so empty?

Tatler’s People Who Really Matter

Although you might think them wildly intimidating,many are astonishingly cosy and nice.

She is not a perfect English Rose,but he has the loveliest, gorgeous glossy hair.

Imagine how super-clever and super-connectedand affable one must be to have got this far.

Considering they are not all trained, manyare relentlessly upbeat and frighteningly talented.

Boundlessly energetic they approach each borderas if it were new, even after umpteen impressive attempts.

Mind-blowingly otter-faced, she tells the little oneseverything’s going to be just fine - the lie

flawless as pale skin, some might call it pneumatic.When they get through it is delightful.