Look, nobody wants to come back from a trip to find their car on cinder blocks. It’s a vibe killer. This place is well-lit and fenced in. It feels secure.
They have cameras. Lots of them. You know, watching. Not in a creepy way, but in a “we’ve got your back” way. It’s the security blanket of car parks.
I left my trusty (and slightly rusty) hatchback there for ten days. Came back, and it was exactly where I left it. No new dents, no mysterious smells. A win is a win.
The Walk to the Terminal (Or, the Lack Thereof)
Here’s the kicker. They have a shuttle. But you might not even need it. The walk to check-in is genuinely short. We’re talking a five-minute stroll, max. For a long stay car park, that’s basically witchcraft.
You can practically roll your suitcase there without breaking a sweat. No awkward bus rides where you’re squished with twenty other people’s carry-on bags. It’s just you, your wheels, and the open path.
Queens Car Park – The Havering Daily
I felt like a VIP. A cheap VIP, but a VIP nonetheless.
