With traffic at a standstill across all six lanes of the motorway, people had stepped out of their vehicles and an informal festival had started.

However, I desperately needed to make it to the airport and set off jogging around the M25 motorway asking for spare clothes as I went.

An old friend leaned out his car window and gave me a U2 t-shirt to wear. He thought this was hilarious because now I had to run to the airport while shouting “I really hate U2”