Damascus behind us. Turn right for Jordan or more or less straight on for Baghdad. Another pic from trip to Sulaymaniyah, Northern Iraq 1980. Still got the long drag to Rutba to do. Can’t get lost though as no turnoffs. Just keep the lorry headed east.
First of all a Happy New Year to all the survivors! Brian, I admire your obvious enthusiasm for trips such as the above but I have to say nothing in those photos has convinced me that I was anything other than very lucky NEVER to go Middle-east. Only once was I ever on the verge of going to Tehran. That was in August 1981, the same month that my wife was expecting our son so I objected to going on the grounds of being closer to home for the birth. Stagg told me that to avoid the Tehran trip was going to mean losing my Scania which was being prepared for Middle-east duty so must do the trip. Let me say now that Tom Miles’ idea of Middle-east prep amounted to glueing a piece of gauze netting over the roof hatch and that was it! I said fine,let someone else take it and I think Bobby Keen took it( whats happened to him?). The upside to all this was that the only other trip I could do was a racing car show in Tel aviv but it would have to be in the old Afro-Camion which was getting on a bit by then. I agreed to this when it was pointed out that the trip consisted of a drive to Brindisi,five and a half days on a ferry including a 24 hour stop in Piraeus and a two hour drive from Haifa down to Tel aviv which resulted in a four night stay in the beachside Hyatt hotel having unloaded and helped the Israelis set everything up. On the 5th day a flight home had been organised so I could be at the birth of my boy then once the Tel aviv show was near its end a flight back and three further nights in the Hyatt whilst the show de rig took place then it was back on the ferry to Italy. On completion of the load up the Israeli guy who was in charge presented me with £100 back-hander for my effort and everybody was happy.! Now, I ask you, what would you rather have done? It was a difficult decision I must say! The whole episode was topped off two weeks later when it was realised that the Israeli who had been so generous to me had actually shut down his entire operation the day after I left without paying Promotor! You win some,you lose some! Stagg made some legal enquiries as to recovering the money but was advised that it would probably cost more than what was owed so the whole thing was swept under the carpet. Incidentally on the subject of the Afro-camion there was a desert photo earlier of a couple of Promotor trucks in some watering hole and it was suggested that although the truck in question was thought to be the Afro in the green paint scheme I dont think this is the case because when I took it to Israel not only was it green but it was also signwritten as a Promotor vehicle. Gone off the track somewhat there but just to repeat that the Middle east was never my bag but some guys did seem to enjoy it. It was a long standing moan that on many occasions Promotor vehicles weren,t equiped properly for the job in hand. I think back then only Fardells Volvo had air-con and only then because it was standard equipment. The first thing many drivers fitted themselves was a dash mounted electric fan to move the hot air( and mossies!) around !! I can think of one or two more instances of poor prep but they can come a little later!
Morning RF. Great post you put on yesterday. I would just like to add that I had the first Scania 112 to come home and it had air conditioning! or was meant to. It never did work and even though it went back to be looked at a few times it was a complete waste of space. You also ask about Bobby Keen, where is he now. Well I have attached a photo I took a few years back showing Bobby beside his beloved Mack in Tehran. Last I heard he was still flogging it up the road between Tehran and Munchen!!!
and if you believe that you’ll believe anything.
But, I do know that Christopher, my son (he drove for Promotor late 80’s and early 90’s) kept in touch with Bobby. Christopher later drove for a company down the west country running fresh fish caught off the south west coast to Holland. On one trip about eight or nine years ago, he was loading empty crates and tubs to be returned to the UK when a tub fell from a pallet, bounced off the floor and hit him square in the goolies. He could hardly walk but managed to get back to Calais and board the train. However, he couldn’t drive any further than just off the train so he rang Bobby, who I think was working for a bakery delivering bread in North Kent. Bobby went down to Folkestone and drove Christopher and his lorry back to the West Country.
Thought it was about time a bit more space was given to Peter and Liz Calderwood as without them Promotor would not have existed. I have already posted on here that Peter started up the company after leaving Fords. As the name implies it was marketed as a “Promotional Aid to the Motor Industry” and a lot of the early work was indeed for Fords. It came full circle in the early 90’s when Peter picked up a contract to look after a large fleet of their promotional vehicles which ultimately led to him selling the company.
The attached photographs were taken in Roquetas de Mar near Almeria sometime around 1987/88. Peter and Liz were divorced by then but as Liz had a timeshare apartment and it wasn’t going to cost us a great deal of money we all decided to have a holiday there in the sun. We drove down in Peters souped up BMW but cut out the middle section by sticking the car on the train in Paris then overnight down to Narbonne from where we legged it down to Roquetas. Halfway through our holiday my wife and I borrowed the car and shot up to Moraira to see our friends, Alan and Jackie. Alan had worked for for BMW in Park Lane years before and had since moved to Spain and gone native, even throwing his false teeth away. When he saw the car there was no stopping him. Had to almost drag him out of it in the end. After we returned to Roquetas we stayed a few more days then flew home leaving Peter and Liz there for another week.
Dirty Dan:
What a great read Mick! 10 of 10!
And you got some free advertising in Swedens bigges vintage truck magasin. As a good in the winter coldKlassiska lastbilar.
Danne
Yeah, that really is great Dan. But, what does it say?
You drove that far with Peter and survived!I drove from London to Hamburg with him in a Rover 827 and made the mistake of allowing him to drive the last hundred miles. In pouring rain and gale force winds his foot never left the floor. I was terrified! Never again!
Jazzandy:
You drove that far with Peter and survived!I drove from London to Hamburg with him in a Rover 827 and made the mistake of allowing him to drive the last hundred miles. In pouring rain and gale force winds his foot never left the floor. I was terrified! Never again!
Do you remember that Promotor job we did for some car manufacturer to run in some brand new cars? There was a whole fleet of them being driven here there and everywhere to run up the mileage for some reason that escapes me now.
Staggie was most concerned that none of the cars were damaged…
Only one car was turned over and that was by Master Calderwood. Stylish driving must run in the family.
While I was looking at Amazon to buy Vodka Cola’s book I noticed there was another one written by Andy MacLean. Does anyone remember him and Martin Hudson from Orient Transport? I used to meet him all over the place
Fifty Shades of Tarmac: Adventures with a Mack R600 in 1970s Europe Paperback – 5 Aug 2015
Very intrigued with Sandway’s photo of the Promotor Scania being loaded onto a lorry in what loooks to be Turkey. I don’t remember this story. Please do elaborate sandway.
I remember Martin Hudson from before then, I think he used to work as a site-rep for Bannon Exports and I have this vague memory of going back to his hotel room for a shower, having a drink or two while being introduced to the musical delights of Mr Joe Walsh and “Rocky Mountain Way” !, Also, Mr. Sandway I think you should enlighten our readers as to your elevated position by the time you were “holidaying” with PC. Please feel free to correct me if wrong but truck drivers were mere mortals and didn,t usually get to go on holiday with the boss! Any more unexplained “shoulder rubbing” and the forum boys will be getting the wrong idea!!! Having said that the idea of the “Promotor Family” was alive and well when I joined in 75. Parked at the end of the West Kent Cold Storage parking area back then was a red/white Transit camper van that never seemed to move. On enquiring as to who owned it I was told it was Peters but was available any time for the drivers to use for holidays. However “theres a clown in every circus” and after someone borrowed it and returned it resembling a tip the offer was withdrawn. Sadly this was the beginning of the end as far as the “family” atmosphere was concerned.
Efes:
Jazzandy:
You drove that far with Peter and survived!I drove from London to Hamburg with him in a Rover 827 and made the mistake of allowing him to drive the last hundred miles. In pouring rain and gale force winds his foot never left the floor. I was terrified! Never again!Do you remember that Promotor job we did for some car manufacturer to run in some brand new cars? There was a whole fleet of them being driven here there and everywhere to run up the mileage for some reason that escapes me now.
Staggie was most concerned that none of the cars were damaged…
Only one car was turned over and that was by Master Calderwood. Stylish driving must run in the family.
While I was looking at Amazon to buy Vodka Cola’s book I noticed there was another one written by Andy MacLean. Does anyone remember him and Martin Hudson from Orient Transport? I used to meet him all over the place
Fifty Shades of Tarmac: Adventures with a Mack R600 in 1970s Europe Paperback – 5 Aug 2015
Very intrigued with Sandway’s photo of the Promotor Scania being loaded onto a lorry in what loooks to be Turkey. I don’t remember this story. Please do elaborate sandway.
Efes. Here just for you are pictures of the two gentlemen you referred to. Martin is in the second photo whilst the other one named is in the post before yours concerning a trip to Hamburg with Peter Calderwood.
I had forgotten about the running in of the cars job. Maybe because I wasn’t involved but I do remember someone turning up at my house once in the west country in a different car than he normally drove. Possibly it was part of that job.
The little problem with the Scania, (“it wasn’t my fault your Lordship. My foot slipped off the brake and hit the accelerator”) will be revealed sometime!!
I think the cars were Toyotas, and Simon crashed a Celica I believe…could be wrong tho!
Efes:
Jazzandy:
You drove that far with Peter and survived!I drove from London to Hamburg with him in a Rover 827 and made the mistake of allowing him to drive the last hundred miles. In pouring rain and gale force winds his foot never left the floor. I was terrified! Never again!Do you remember that Promotor job we did for some car manufacturer to run in some brand new cars? There was a whole fleet of them being driven here there and everywhere to run up the mileage for some reason that escapes me now.
Staggie was most concerned that none of the cars were damaged…
Only one car was turned over and that was by Master Calderwood. Stylish driving must run in the family.
While I was looking at Amazon to buy Vodka Cola’s book I noticed there was another one written by Andy MacLean. Does anyone remember him and Martin Hudson from Orient Transport? I used to meet him all over the place
Fifty Shades of Tarmac: Adventures with a Mack R600 in 1970s Europe Paperback – 5 Aug 2015
Very intrigued with Sandway’s photo of the Promotor Scania being loaded onto a lorry in what loooks to be Turkey. I don’t remember this story. Please do elaborate sandway.
Andy Maclean is Jazzandy on here.
Just as a brief aside to Sandways previous post,Dave Thomas,always known as “Tommy” was in the office at Shawfield Park and actually recruited me. When I enquired as to where the company name originated he told me it was short for “Professional Motor Handling”. Tommys wife Catherine was an old family friend of my family back in Nottingham and that is the initial link as to how I got tangled up in this business in the first place! Little did I know back then where the "road"would take me!
I knew a fellow who used to run the Promotor computer accounting system in the days when the programmes were on floppy drives. I met him long after I left Promotor.
This chap told me the story of the Promoter computer accounting system which kept suffering from floppy disk failure and the computer company coudn’t work out why… Eventually it was discovered that Neville, the world’s cheeriest accountant, used to hold the floppy disk in his hand with his ■■■ - he always had a ■■■ on the go in his hand - polluting not just the room but the disk too. I took particular delight in baiting Neville to pay up my expenses.
[Which reminds me of another story when drivers found some floppy disks in the trailer they were unloading and used them as frisbees because they didn’t know what they were. Nots Notherner or was it Bugsy who told the story]?
NOT GUILTY your honour!..could,ve been Bugsy throwing them tho!
Vodka Cola Cowboy:
Dirty Dan:
What a great read Mick! 10 of 10!
And you got some free advertising in Swedens bigges vintage truck magasin. As a good in the winter coldDanne
Yeah, that really is great Dan. But, what does it say?
It says its a really good read in the winterdarkness!
Danne
I think it was January or early February 1983 when John “Welly” Ward and I left the UK bound for Baghdad. We were both loaded with a lightweight container unloading ramp each weighing in at about two tons and almost 12m long which were destined for the Iraqi Army. They were to be used to enable forklifts to unload either containers or flatbed trailers and because of their weight could be easily moved around. We both had return loads lined up from the Baghdad Fair which consisted of six Lansing Bagnall forklifts. Each weighing about six tons.
The ramps were real flying loads which should have suited John as his nickname suggests. He also had a bit of a reputation as far as his driving was concerned but I won’t go into that as I don’t want to be sued. However, I concur with Efes when he said John always drove as close as possible to your rear end as its possible to do. We shipped over Dover/Zeebrugge and had only gone as far as Gent before I had to warn him to back off a bit. No, No, he said. I’m alright as long as I can see your brake lights its no problem. Now John, to me, was the spitting image of Marty Feldman, the comedian with the big bulbous staring eyes and I am sure he was as blind as a bat. Anyway he didn’t back off and as he wouldn’t lead I had to put up with him filling my rear view mirror for a large part of the trip. As we had such light loads there was at times much rapid accelerating and braking which added “fun” to the job especially in Yugo as we overtook slower heavily laden lorries on the concrete strip between Zagreb and Belgrade. I’m sure John loved it!!!
We were routed down the middle i.e. Germany-Austria-Yuga-Bulgy. I never went the commie block way on any of the M/E work I did. I did though like using the smaller borders so it was Freilassing into Austria, Radkersburg into Yugo, Kulata into Greece and Ipsala into Turkey. John diligently followed my footsteps all the way. At this point I would like to tell a little anecdote from my first trip to Yugo in the 70’s. I made my way to the main Salzburg border and was weekended there. An hour or two after I parked up another Promotor lorry arrived. It was Welly Ward. We left the early hours of Monday morning but only got as far as Schladming before my 110 broke down. We pulled into a restaurant car park, found a phone and rang the office. A local Scania agent was contacted who came out quickly and did a repair. However, before they arrived John said it was company policy that drivers did not hang around for other drivers and that he had to push on which he did. After my lorry was repaired I made my way to Yugo, tipped, reloaded and was in Maribor when I bumped into John again. He was loaded and on his way home also. Stick with it he said. We’ll be on tomorrow nights boat from Zeebrugge. Now I might have been a bit green but even I could see that wasn’t possible, well certainly not legally. We pushed through the night into Austria where it was snowing. I was dead tired when at about two in the morning I saw John indicate and pull into a lay-by. His curtains were immediately drawn and so I got my head down. Three hours later John is banging on the door shouting to me that he was off. With that he pulled out of the lay-by with me not far behind him. I will point out we were both loaded with furniture so the loads were light. We travelled up through Germany flat out. When we got to The Cat (was that the name of the long hill near Koblenz where there was no overtaking) we sailed past everyone. John wasn’t going to let a few “no overtaking” restrictions stop him getting the boat that night. Afterwards he told me the CB airwaves were red hot as all the other drivers were screaming, “no overtaking, no overtaking” as we shot past them all. John was right though. We did catch the ferry that night but most importantly for me I learnt a very valuable lesson. And that was, “Do your own thing in your own time”.
Continuing with our trip to Baghdad we arrived in Greece where we only spent a couple of hours on the beach at Kavala before pushing on to Londra Camping in Istanbul. It had taken my usual time of five and a half days to get there. That night it snowed…
To be continued.
We arrived at Londra Camping late afternoon and that night it snowed. The idea was that we would push on to the Telex in Ankara the next day. Only a short hop but very rarely did I hammer it across Turkey. But this time we were going nowhere unless we put snow chains on, so we were informed by the police. Neither of us wanted to do that and so we waited for the sun to come out to clear the snow from the roads. Unfortunately it got colder and by mid afternoon we decided we had wasted enough time and that the chains had to go on.
Next morning we departed the Londra after I had a cup of coffee and a rock cake my wife had made. In fact I always had a large tin of rock cakes. They formed part of my staple diet but between them and sitting down driving all day contributed towards to me putting on the pounds. As we left Istanbul I thought the roads were reasonably clear. We would have been ok not chaining up but as we had we pushed safely on past Izmit and up to the point where the road starts its gradual incline up Bolu. Here the snow was a bit deeper and as we were so light and there was very little traffic about I decided to gun it to give us a bit of impetus as we started to climb in earnest and hopefully make it over the top without problems. However, we had only gone a kilometre or so when I saw a British registered lorry parked in the snow on the side of the road. We stopped to have a word with him to see if he needed help. It was Dave Stanway’s lorry, an American White, driven we think by Kenny Snooks. I related this incident in a much earlier post so won’t repeat it all here. Suffice to say we pulled him out and got him on his way. As we over the top of Bolu the snow cleared. We removed our chains and pushed on to the Telex. That was the last we saw of snow for a couple of days apart from on top of the Tarsus mountains.
The next day was again another easy days drive. Ankara to The Oryx in Adana. Our first stop was Aksaray at the “ekmet” shop to buy freshly cooked bread. We then pulled across the road to the TIR parking to enjoy eating it whilst it was still hot. The rest of the day was just a leisurely run down to Adana but I remember one incident. We were in the hills, the road was up and down some and there wasn’t a lot of traffic about. Suddenly we approached a British lorry struggling up a small incline. We, of course, being lightly laden, came up to it very fast. I could see the road was clear ahead but only for a few hundred metres before a bend. Even so the speed I was going I could easily get by safely so I went for it. The driver only saw me coming at the last moment but by then I was almost past him. I looked in my mirrors and saw that John was still filling them as he had done for the last few thousand miles. We both got by but was glad no-one was coming towards us. Later on after we had parked up at the Oryx the lorry we had overtaken finally arrived. We went over for a chat and he said he hadn’t seen me coming until the last moment because I was travelling so much faster than him. Suddenly I was there, shooting past him as if he was stationary and then immediately behind was a second Promotor lorry. “I could have sworn you had him on a bar” he said. No, I replied, that was just my shadow.
The following day we pushed on to Gaziantep where again we parked in the TIR park for the night. Here we found we had a hole in one of our diesel tanks that had to be repaired. We also decided to have a diesel tank fitted to the trailer as we heard that fuel was difficult to get in Iraq and that the queues were very long. This messing around cost us a large part of the day but we finally got on the road mid afternoon. We made the border at Habur late evening and got through surprisingly easily. Next day we pushed on down to Baghdad and then made our way out to Fallujah to register and do customs on our thirteenth day. Not bad going even with John in tow as thats the time I normally took.
After looking back at a much earlier post (4 or 5 months ago) I put on concerning John chaining up and the Stanway lorry I am a little confused over the dates of this trip. I believe this trip did take place at the beginning of 83 and not earlier as suggested in the previous posting. Its those “little grey cells” playing up again.
To be continued.
As I said in my last post we needed some work done on the lorries. So we stopped at Kiziltepe to have another diesel tank installed and the one on my unit repaired. These photos show some of the work being done.
We had arrived at Fallujah in the evening. Too late to put our papers in, so next day we joined the queue first thing as we wanted to tip as soon as possible. After registering we were told to wait near our lorries and someone would come and find us. They did but not till mid afternoon. “I will return tomorrow morning”, this army chap of indiscernible rank told us. Sure enough next morning he was there and we followed him back into Baghdad then we headed north, but only about thirty kilometres to a point on the highway where he abruptly turned off into the desert. After a couple of k’s he stopped and told us to open the backs of our trailers. After looking inside he jumped in his car, said he would be back in an hour, and was gone. Indeed he did return with about ten men in an army truck and a rough terrain forklift. They had our load of ramps out in no time and the last we saw of them, as we pulled out to the main highway, was them lying abandoned in the desert. The army chap and the lorry load of men and the forklift were all beating a hasty retreat in the opposite direction (no doubt getting some retreating practise in). We never did see a camp or any buildings there. Knowing the Iraqis I reckon those ramps are still there, abandoned.
We then ran back to Fallujah to retrieve our passports and then shot back into Baghdad to the fair ground where our return loads were waiting for us. We contacted our agent and were told we would be loaded the next day. We spent the night there and as anyone who has been there will tell you, its an oasis of calm compared to parking up at Fallujah. Next day we loaded three forklifts each. About eighteen tons I think. We spent a second night in the fair ground but were told we had to then pull out and park on the little car park off the roundabout by the main entrance where we had to wait for our paperwork. We waited all of the next day and still no paperwork. I was not surprised as I had in the past waited four or five days for it to be completed. By now John was getting a bit uptight as we weren’t going anywhere soon. Those who knew him will know why he had the nickname “Welly” 'cos that was the one thing he loved doing. “Give it some welly”, was a favourite saying. He had sat patiently behind me all the way down, which was bad enough for him. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to sitting in this little car park for another couple of days. However, we were still sitting there a couple of days later. Mid afternoon a police motor cyclist pulled up alongside us, got off his bike, came over and asked for our passports. Now in these situations you just play it cool, hand over the passport, say yes sir and no sir and wait for your passport to be handed back. Not John though. He was always very excitable and this was a red rag situation if I ever saw one. The big bulbous eyes latched onto the policeman. The fingers started jabbing towards his chest and he was then subjected to an oral battering the like of which I am sure he had never received from an Iraqi motorist in his life before. With a startled look on his face he put the passports in his pocket, remounted his bike and was gone leaving a cloud of dust and rubber across the car park. Thank you very much John, or words to that effect I said. Now his nickname was certainly “Welly” but there were many of us who thought “Wally” was a more apt description. I stood there wondering what to do next. I was sure the policeman would return at some time, perhaps!! After an hour there was still no sign of him so I had to do something. I knew there was a police station a couple of k’s down the road near the Baghdad museum and wondered if he was there. So we set of to try and find him. As I pulled up outside the police station there were a few motorbikes parked up so we went inside. Yes, our man was there. I said to John, you better start grovelling, cos thats what he’s gonna want especially in front of his mates. And do it good otherwise we could be here another week or more. Well, finally the passports were returned and we went back to the fair ground.
The next day our paperwork was completed and we were finally on our way home. I won’t say everything had gone smoothly but it hadnt gone really badly either. We had tipped and reloaded. We were on schedule to do the round trip in twenty eight days, my average and hopefully the weather would be improving in Turkey.
We headed north looking forward to a nice easy run home. We again had no problem at the border, sailing through in just a few hours. it was mid afternoon by the time we drove past Silopi and on towards Cizre with John still filling my mirrors. If it continued like this we could be home in about twenty six days. Once we got to Cizre we could see there had been a lot of rain as all the potholes in town were filled with water. But that wasn’t a problem to us.
To be continued.
I’m thoroughly enjoying your ‘Long Distance Diary’, Sandway! Superb pictures too! Brings back a few atmospheres of those kind of trips. Don’t stop! Cheers, Robert