The security charade

Going to Calais from Dover this morning on the Eurotunnel was a master class in the ineptitude and pointlessness of security. As my car approached Passport Control I handed over my passport. My girlfriend was talking on her mobile whilst rummaging in her handbag and my 17 year old daughter was sleeping like a corpse in the back seat. After a cursory glance at my passport we were waved through. I honestly don’t think the officer on duty even noticed there was someone in the back-seat. My girlfriend still hadn’t found her passport by the time we drove the car onto the train. Every carriage is festooned with posters of missing Madeleine McCann. I could have smuggled anything — or indeed anyone — across the channel and no-one would have noticed. Or indeed cared. Frightening.