No, not to condoms with a built-in gasp factor (in case the contents don’t, er, hit the spot)…but Rigid Inflatable Boats, a fleet of which hurtles up and down the Thames daily with consignments of corporate funsters and wide-eyed tourists.
Crewed by a team of weathered charmers sporting the squinty, caustic expressions worn by Cornish smugglers, commentary in the mode of Oliver-Reed-as-old-soak is provided gratis, as is a somewhat hair-raising disembarkation.
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