The idea of rising before dawn to drive into the very bowels of London via various dark and polluted tunnels might not appeal to everyone. To some it will border on the abhorrent, given the city's status as one of the most congested in Europe. However, if you're anything like me, then an invite to a meeting of the London Tunnellers will be one that's impossible to refuse.
"Room for a small one chaps?"
But which car could do the invite justice? Primarily it had to be loud, but also flash enough to draw some attention and fast enough not to be embarrassed. Any indecision was short lived though, as we have the perfect car on our long-term fleet: the
Range Rover Sport SVR
. Dan had run out of excuses for keeping it to himself for so long anyway...
So my attendance was confirmed, the keys were in my possession and the alarm clock set for five o'clock. I was primed and ready.
Very early the next day, the noise of exhaust notes drowning out the cordial ramblings of early morning Radio 2 signalled I was getting close. There were already a few in attendance when I arrived, making the most of (shattering) the peace and quiet.
Cars of all makes and models began to appear, and with them any attempt to retain the secrecy of the meeting went out the window; in fact, a policy of 'the louder the better' seemed to be employed. A pack of Vauxhall VX220s, several TVRs, a Caterham, McLarens and Ferraris soon arrived, all uniting to give a new meaning to the dawn chorus.
A lot of TVRs turned up, funnily enough...
The route was handed out and consisted of three sections, each taking one of the tunnels that weave under the streets of the capital. The pre-drive announcement was simple and concise: stick together and be loud.
So it began; moving off in convoy, we immediately found ourselves in our first tunnel, which erupted to the cacophony of combustion pops, bangs and rumbles. As I came out of the other side I caught myself in the rear view mirror, and saw what can only be described as a very, very happy man. The procession of cars totalled nearly 20, yet it sounded like many times that number, and on occasion it felt like Thor himself was driving amongst us. Alright, maybe not quite that far. But it was loud! The pedestrians that we passed, including those bedraggled revellers making their way home from the night before, lay witness to both a visual and acoustic treat as the city became our amphitheatre for a brief moment. It was so more exciting than I had envisaged and any early morning fatigue was now gone. Given the choice between this or a cafe macchiato with an extra shot of espresso... I know which I'd have any day.
Looks good; sounded it too
We stopped to allow those at the back to catch up, then made our way through more side streets and tunnels. The SVR comfortably stood its ground amongst its new playmates, downshift pops from the electronically controlled active exhaust echoing around for all to hear. As with so many great adventures, we ended back where we'd begun, with smiles and handshakes and excited accounts of the morning's activity.
London, I should apologise for the abrupt and untimely wake up; but I can't. It was too much fun. Would I do it again? Absolutely! Although only once I have de-coked my lungs and waited for the tinnitus to subside...