An intermodal train from the Midlands creeps into the GB Railfreight terminal in Southampton's Western Docks, at rather less than walking pace.

"Someone puh-leez shoot these surfer fuggs before I get out ma yacht and do some serious runnin' down! Who needs these hippy freaks?

His sinews woxen weake and raw / Through long emprisonment and hard constraint.

And like other futile edifices of man these are inhabited for a brief space giving glory to the proprietor of the most unusual or striking and then left to melt back to dust and be forgotten, or worse yet, to become curiosities for generations with other latests.