I thought I would finally put up a diary to show what it’s like for a novice CE driver in Holland with only a few months experience. I’m afraid it’s not that interesting but hopefully it will be an enjoyable read, especially for any new drivers like myself who are just starting out. I will also include some photos at the end of the diary because I can’t work out how to insert the photos between the relevant paragraphs…
You’d better enjoy it cos I spent ages writing it and it makes a change from ‘unexpected night out’ and ‘what sat nav to get’ threads.
Disclaimer: Any photos that show the truck was in motion, were taken while my attention was fully on the road ahead (and keeping an eye out out for any motorway police), and I was just pointing my phone out of the windscreen hoping for a good shot. No motorists or kittens were in danger at any time.
For anybody who missed the original story as to how I got here, then I enclose the link.
Second disclaimer: In several paragraphs, I will state the difference in the way they do things over here compared to the UK. I am not boasting that they do things better in Holland. Just stating the different way they handle certain things. I am still loyal to my homeland of Britain.
I have to say, after several months of searching for a CE job with no experience, I really landed on my feet with this particular company. They are local, just ten minutes drive from home. They are small enough that I am a name to them and not a number, and the two bosses have gone out of their way to make a British bloke in a foreign land feel welcome, and I can’t fault them. The drivers are friendly too, though there is one who didn’t seem to like a foreign driver joining the firm and wasn’t very helpful in my first few weeks when I wasn’t sure how to do things. The other drivers told me not to worry about him, that he was a bit of an oddball (there’s always one in every firm). However, after several months he seems to have finally come around to the fact that I am working there and now he’s pretty friendly. The company also runs pretty nice kit in the form of VW transporter vans, rigids and the artics, and they’ve given me as a novice a nice smart truck to drive so I’m very happy.
So, what is the job like? Here’s the diary.
My official title is Line Haul driver, and there is tons of them in Holland. Basically, my truck is like a freight train service and runs to a semi flexible timetable and a set route of various distribution centres in Holland and Belgium. This suits me coming from a railway background. I like routes and timetables. The truck always runs, no matter if there is only one pallet on board, or if it’s a full trailer. There have been a couple of times when I’ve had nothing on board. It all depends on what online customers have been ordering. When it comes to the distribution centres, there are no booking in times or awkward security to deal with. If you arrive an hour early, the load is usually ready, and if you arrive late, then that’s fine too. You just have to try and catch up with your schedule a bit.
The route that I do is Utrecht – Breda – Mechelen (Belgium) – Breda – Tilburg – Utrecht – and then back to base in one of the courier vans. The distance I do is 358 kms every night. Yes, every night the same distance. The route doesn’t change so the distance doesn’t change. Now, some of you will say ‘ I couldn’t do the same route every day. It would drive me bonkers’. Well, it’s pretty fine for me. Coming from the railway, I’m used to routes, plus I like knowing exactly where I’m going, when I’ll take my breaks, sharing some banter as best I can with the warehouse guys, and knowing that I’ll finish always finish on time every night (bar any jams due to rtc’s of course), and being in my own bed every night. Plus, apart from the Breda – Mechelen – Breda portion, I’m following a big circle around the Benelux so it feels like I am just driving one long road.
The truck company works for an online company for the first three distribution centres, and then another online company for the fourth dc. The loads I carry are whatever online customers have ordered that day, so it can be white goods, flatscreen tv’s, flat pack furniture, fully assembled furniture, step ladders, lawn mowers, microwave ovens, whatever.
As I’ve said, there’s lots of line haul trucks running around the Benelux from various different truck companies, and you get to meet the same trucks and same drivers at the same times at various dc’s. They’re all doing their own set routes and working to their own timetables. Just like a train service. Out of all the companies doing line haul, Post NL are one of the largest, and you see their trucks everywhere.
For me, I work three days a week, Wednesday to Friday, and my shifts are eleven hours a night or thirty three a week which suits me just fine. It means I can do the child care on the four days off while my wife flies (she’s a flight attendant), though it does mean we’re sometimes like ships passing in the night which is a bit tough.
My shift starts at 4pm and officially ends at 3am, though usually I am done and dusted by 2:45am and home with a cuppa in my hand by 3am. When I turn in for work to get the keys, there’s normally hardly anyone around. Sometimes I’ll go a few weeks without seeing either of the bosses. They’re usually out meeting customers or out driving themselves. The older boss once said to me he prefers being out in the truck instead of being in the office. If the bosses are around, they’re usually sat around the picnic table outside sharing a smoke and a chat with any drivers that are around. That’s when any problems are sorted out with drivers. Over a ■■■ and a relaxed chat. If I do happen to run into anyone when I sign on, it’s usually the planner who also doubles as the forkie for their storage warehouse under the offices.
January isn’t the best time to start a new career in trucking. It was cold and dark during my shift, I was struggling with the reverses, I was making a few mistakes in my first few weeks, and apart from all that, I had to cope with torrential rain where I could hardly see anything, Storm Doris where I felt I was on a bucking bronco trying to control the truck in the high winds, made worse by living in a flat country, and finally one night of heavy snow where I had the unnerving experience of the trailer sliding all over the place and trying to take me into one of the many water filled dykes that line the country roads, and then experiencing the wheels spinning in the snow and the trailer sliding as I tried to get onto a bay. I finally got on and was lucky to get off again. Other trucks weren’t so lucky and had to be towed off the bays by the Terberg shunter. I wasn’t happy with trucking and thought ‘bugger this for a game of soldiers’. However, Spring came, the days got longer, it was warmer and sunnier in the evenings, and this CE trucking lark didn’t seem so bad after all.
As to the truck I drive, it’s a black 2016 MAN TGX with matching black box trailer with discreet company signage at the back of the trailer. The truck is a bit Trans Am Trucking in its style. Oh, while I remember, I once joined the tail end of a convoy of four Trans Am trucks on the Antwerp ring road while heading back to Holland one evening. For some reason, I started humming the GB version of Convoy by Laurie Lingo and the Dipsticks. For our younger readers, here is a link to the song taking the pee out of the yank version.
If the Trans Am trucks had CB, I can imagine the lead driver saying to his colleagues (in a strong Suffolk accent) “ere good buddies, oi thought we were four trucks? Where’s that there fifth truck at the back come from, ten-four” (or whatever they say in CB speak). Anyway, I stayed behind them until they turned off into the massive truck parking area at the Dutch border at Hazeldonk.
Anyway, back to the truck. It’s an MAN, one of about seven that the company has, plus about twelve trailers, plus two MAN rigids and the vans of course. I drive the same unit all the time. It’s allocated to the route and not to me, because it has the Belgian toll box plumbed in to it. As I say, I start at 4pm and handover to the day driver at 2am who works until 11am, so the truck works about 19 hours a day, six days a week. Sunday is when the engine gets to fully cool down. Between us, the day driver and myself try to keep the truck immaculate inside and out so you’d think it was a new truck. However, you really notice a difference when the day driver goes on holiday. When others drive, you climb in and find spilt coffee stains, dust, bread crumbs, ■■■ ash and footprints on the passenger side of the dash. You need to spend five minutes cleaning it out with the air gun and wet wipes before you even switch the ignition on.
The stereo in the truck is really good, and as I start threading my way along the roads of the trading estate towards the motorway and the first distribution centre ten minutes drive away, I sometimes put this on the stereo as the truck really does resemble a stealth bomber when you see the black trailer snaking in the rearview mirror.
The first distribution centre near Utrecht, is for me the hardest and the most hassle. Not because of the load but because of access, getting onto a bay, and exit. When the warehouse was built, I think it was more for vans and not artics, because the whole access road around the building is tight and a pain for a CE novice like me. Once though the gate, you go down one side of the building and then have to make a tight left hand turn, making sure the trailer wheels clear a post at the near side, while keeping an eye on the offside front of the truck that you don’t scrape any of the staff cars parked along the fence.
You then have to reverse onto the angled bay, again keeping an eye that you don’t scrape against any of the parked cars. Once on the bay, you then have to get a twist going on the unit so that it leaves enough room for other vehicles to get between the unit and the parked cars. After several months, I can get onto the bay quite easily now, but in my first few weeks of driving, I was sweating buckets trying to get on the bay, and it was winter time so it was dark and hard to see a black truck in the dark. I then go in to sort out the first load of the day.
With Utrecht and Breda, the supervisors are Dutch and the loading staff are Polish. The supervisors all speak English, some better than others. It’s also the Dutch custom to shake hands with them. With the Polish loaders, I always make the effort to speak a few words of Polish to them. Even if it’s only hello, goodbye, see you next time or how are you. We’re all in a strange land to our own and they appreciate you making the effort to speak to them in their own language. They also remember me as the British driver who makes the effort, and it sometimes helps when it comes to getting loaded quickly.
As always, it depends what the customers have ordered as to how full the truck is, but from Utrecht it’s usually about 40% full, plus maybe empty carts to fill up the truck completely. Now, with loading and unloading, it’s completely optional for the driver to get involved. However, for me personally, I like to help the loaders unload or load. For me I see it as a free workout, I can get in and out of a dc quicker so I can choose to take my break, knowing I can leave anytime I want, plus I like to be in control of the loading so I know nothing is going to shift. It still amazes me that warehouse staff will happily load a tall item like a fridge freezer, next to a small item like a single microwave oven on a pallet, and not realise that the fridge is going to topple over at the first bend. If I’ve helped to load the truck correctly, then I know that hopefully the load won’t shift in the back. I also use ratchet straps of course. It’s easy loading the truck anyway. Just wheeling carts on or using the pallet truck.
Leaving the dc in Utrecht is when the fun really starts. After leaving the bay, the first thing I encounter is white van man. They are the bane of my life at Utrecht, Breda and Mechelen. They are all self employed drivers who race around at top speed and will sneak up any gap they can possibly find. The vans are used to deliver the products to the customers home, and 90% of the drivers are Turkish, Moroccan, or from one of the ‘stans’. These drivers will just dump their vans anywhere on the access road while they give in their paperwork or go for a coffee and a chat. These guys will just chat endlessly while watching you struggling to get the truck between their vans. Friday is always the worst for this. When I’ve finally given up trying to get through and give a blast on the horn, they will slowly and grudgingly walk back to their vans and move them.
Once you can finally get through, you then have to make an even tighter left turn than the first one, watching for the bins and the barbed wire on top of the fence on the offside, and the trailer wheels clearing another post on the nearside by just a couple of inches. Get it wrong, and you then have to try and reverse between all the vans again and try to get a better angle on the trailer for another go, while trying not to catch the headboard on the bins or the fence.
Once you get down the single lane access road and through the gate, you then have to make a sharp right hand turn, trying not to hit the fence on the left with the unit, and trying to get the trailer wheels to clear the fence on the right, all previously in the dark of winter. Now, I can hear some of you old un’s at the back muttering “grow a pair ffs, I’ve had tighter yards than that to turn in, with no power steering and a pig of a clutch to deal with”. Well remember, I’ve only been driving a few months, I’m still learning, and I really don’t want to scratch one of my employer’s trailers if nI can help it, especially as they were good enough to take a chance on a novice like me.
Just back to the white vans for a minute. I’ve started to get my own back on them. If I get loaded quickly and have a few minutes in hand, I’ll squeeze through the vans, make the sharp left hand, go down the single lane access road as far as the exit gate, stop, and turn off the engine. I’ll then start reading a book or flicking through my phone. It doesn’t take long to collect about five or six white vans behind the truck, especially on a Friday when they’re all rushing to get home for the weekend. Eventually, one of the drivers will stomp up to my window to find out what the problem is, and I just say I’ve pushed the button for the intercom to ask security to raise the gate and there’s been no answer. It really annoys them when they see you reading a book too.
Anyway, the van driver will use his magnetic card to raise the exit gate and stomps back to his van. I then make a meal out of making the tight right hander, and by this time I’ve collected another two or three vans behind. I’ve done this a few times now and I thimk they’ve started to suss it now. When they spot the British driver who always seems to have problem at the gate rolling up from the bays, they immediately jump into their vans and race off to get ahead of me, haha.
After I’ve finally got out the gate, I then have to do a another sharp right hand turn onto the main road, keeping an eye that the headboard doesn’t clout a road sign, and making sure I don’t hit any cyclists as I cross the cycle path (if you hit a cyclist in Holland, you’re going down for life) and making sure the trailer wheels don’t mount the curb. 100 metres further on, I then have a left turn at a small roundabout to get through before I can finally relax. If you got that right hand turn onto the main road or that roundabout on your driving test, you’d be sweating I can tell you.
To go to Breda, I usually take the A12 and A16 via Rotterdam and Dordrecht. However, I always check the traffic first on Google maps and if it’s heavy, I go another way via the A2 and A27. As I’m hitting the motorway near to 5pm, I run into rush hour traffic. Although it can be heavy, it’s usually moving and doesn’t seem half as bad as I remember in the UK. By about 6:15pm as I’m passing Dordrecht, the traffic suddenly clears and then it’s clear motorways for the rest of the shift. I don’t know if it’s because traffic is more spread out in mainland Europe, but I can go weeks without ever hitting a traffic jam after the rush hour period. Only if there is an rtc or broken down vehicle, so driving in mainland Europe seems much more enjoyable.
On the subject of roadworks and broken down vehicles or rtc’s, the Dutch and Belgians make great use of the red X system and veer left/right arrows on the overhead gantries. As soon as a red X appears, everyone immediately moves over to the correct lane so that by the time you reach the obstruction, be it a vehicle or roadworks, there is no last minute pushing in of vehicles which helps the flow of traffic, or any road rage when you see vehicles trying to push in in front of you. It’s much more relaxed. They also make use of the small trucks with the LED flashing arrows on the back to give everyone advance warning as to what lane to be in.
One day however, I was in a bit of congestion. We’d all seen the red X so had all moved over, but were still moving, albeit slowly. A Slovakian truck decided he’d make full use of the empty lane ahead and ploughed on through ignoring the red X. When I got to the blockage about seven minutes later, which was a truck with a blown tyre, Slovakian matey boy was sat on the hard shoulder with an annoyed motorcycle cop giving him a lecture. As I passed, the cop pointed to his truck telling him to wait there and then went back to chat to the tyre fitter. So instead of giving him a ticket, he just made the truck wait until he was ready to let him go again. You don’t mess with the red X.
On the subject of roadworks, there aren’t any in Holland or Belgium. Well, not like you and I are used to in the UK where there are miles and miles of cones and nothing going on. In Holland or Belgium, if they have to do anything like cutting the verges of repairing a crash barrier, or very rarely relaying the road surface, the motorway workers will turn up with three trucks with the flashing LED arrows. They’ll then chuck down maybe a dozen cones at most, and then get on with the work. There’s none of this miles and miles of cones stuff and signs saying ‘cones in order to protect the workforce’. The Dutch are more ■■■■■■■■ than that. They’ll just get on with the work next to a live lane, then when they’re finished they’ll pick up their cones and bugger off like they’ve never been there. You hardly even slow down when passing roadworks. Even when it comes to relaying the surface, they just come with their arrow trucks, a couple of tippers, a road ropller and a dozen cones, do maybe two kilometres, then pick up their cones and go again, maybe coming back the next night to do the next stretch. It seems so much more efficient the way they do it.
Since I started in January, I’ve only encountered one full motorway closure and that didn’t end well for me. If they do close a road, the Dutch are not very good on putting up diversion signs and I was left guessing which way to go at the end of the slip road. I guessed wrong and ended up in some small village. Trying to turn a black artic around at 1am with parked cars all around and you’ve only been driving artics for three weeks is not fun I can tell you.
Just another example. In Belgium one night there was some congestion, but it was moving and in the distance you could see blue flashing lights. As I got closer, I saw what had happened. Some poor depressive had decided to end things by jumping off a motorway bridge and been hit by a car which was now on the hard shoulder. However, instead of closing the motorway for several hours and declaring it a crime scene like they might have done in the UK, the police had chucked some cones down, placed a screen around the body, and were diverting the traffic partly on the overtaking lane and partly onto the asphalt near to the central reservation. Two coppers were standing guard over the body but had their hands behind their back in a reverential way. It only took ten minutes of congestion to get through the whole thing. Again, it was just very efficient in the way the Belgian police handled the traffic while still giving some dignity to the suicide.
Back to my route. It’s quite a nice drive to Breda via Rotterdam, and I pass over a couple of nice bridges over large expanses of water. As you can imagine, there is a lot of water in Holland and it’s amazing how big river traffic is in this country. You drive beside some rivers and they’re like marine motorways. One barge after another, carrying containers, grain and other goods one after another towards Germany or the North sea or further afield to Hungary I think. And it’s 24/7. Often I will go over a bridge at 1am and I will see the navigation lights of a barge below as it goes down river. Also, you pass under these rivers and it’s amazing to see these barges with a full load of containers passing over you. Yet I never see any water leaking from these overhead rivers onto the motorway. Raymundo would have a fine old time in this country watching all the river traffic. Oh, and there’s no hose pipe bans in this country. We’re swimming in the stuff.
One more thing, you don’t realise how many waterways there are. One evening I was driving down the A16 when I thought I was seeing things. There was a massive ocean going freight ship parked up next to the motorway (or whatever the naval term for parked up is), the other side of a raised verge. Funnel, deck lighting, full size bridge, revolving radar antenna, the lot. WTF I thought, how did that get there? When I later looked at a map, I saw there was a waterway that I never realized was next to the motorway on the other side of that raised verge, and the waterway lead to one of the big rivers that I pass over. So you can see a ship anywhere in Holland it seems.
The Dutch like their blinged up trucks, and though some are nice, some are just so over the top it’s untrue. There was one Belgian guy next to me in traffic driving a tanker and I think he was trying for the remake of the film Duel. In his cab he had eerie purple blue lighting, he had two illuminated skeletons hanging up, and a Chucky (Childs Play) doll in the front windscreen. He was hiding behind black side curtains so I couldn’t see if the driver matched up with the scary dolls.
The Dutch car motorists also like their American pick ups, and you’ll see a lot of them. The Dodge Ram 1500 and the Ford F150 seem to be the favoured choice of ride for Dutchies trying to pretend they’re American red necks.
I learn’t very early on never to pull into a service area for my break, because once you get in, you can never get out again. The overnighting EE trucks use every spare bit of space in the services and leave their trailers sticking out, so it takes ages to squeeze through them all to the exit. I now only take my breaks at the distribution centres or on a trading estate.
When I talk to some Dutch drivers who have done the UK, their biggest gripe is “Why do we have to pay to stay at your service stations?” The second gripe is “Why do you only have Burger King or KFC or Greggs to eat in” The Dutch are more used to the healthy eating options at their service stations like La Place. However, they do acknowledge that their service stations are overrun at night because parking is free.
Ok, back to the diary. I arrive in Breda and again encounter white van man. Not so much inside the dc area as there is much more room to get onto a bay than there is in Utrecht. It’s outside. White van man has cleared off home for the night, but they cycle home, leaving their vans parked on the access road outside. They use every available piece of verge right near the entrance gate, and you have to squeeze through trying not to catch one of the vans on the tail swing as you make the turn into the gate. I would love to drag one of those vans down the road with the truck but it would be just too much paperwork.
In Breda, I have my fifteen minute break in the truck or near the coffee machine while they unload it, and then I give the staff a hand to load. From Breda to Mechelen, it’s mostly flat pack furniture in large carts that just wheel on, so you can load a full trailer in ten to fifteen minutes. The supervisors tell me that most of the furniture comes from Germany. As Germany borders Belgium, I don’t know why they don’t deliver straight to Belgium instead of via Holland, but that’s one of the mysteries of logistics I guess.
From Breda, it’s a one hour 20 minute drive to Mechelen in Belgium via Antwerp. All traffic has died down and it’s clear motorways for the rest of the night (usually), so life is good in the truck. The A16 follows the route of HSL Zuid railway line to the Belgian border, where it becomes the E19. If I leave Breda on time, I like to have a little race to see if I can beat the Thalys TGV high speed train to the Belgian border. The Thalys is a high speed train that runs between Amsterdam and Paris and usually flashes past me at 300 kph at the same time every night. Sometimes I do beat it to the border if I have a good run, but one time I was just 50 metres from the Belgie signs when the train streaked past me, overhead pantographs sparking. Talk about a photo finish.
Regarding music, I usually listen to Sky radio (Holland) because it’s chat free apart from the hourly news, and plays good music. When I enter Belgium, I usually turn the dial to Nostalgie FM (Belgium), which is also chat free and plays mainly eighties music which is right down my street. On Friday nights, it’s eighties club classic night taking me back to my single days on the pull haha.
About 45 minutes later, I’m on the Antwerp ring road, taking the turn off towards Brussels and heading through the Craeybeckx tunnel, and then another 25 minutes later, taking the turn off for Mechelen. At the dc, it’s more tight turns around the access road and more white vans to avoid. These guys work later delivering to customers and again leave their vans all over the place while taking in their paperwork or drinking coffee and chatting with their mates.
In Mechelen, the supervisors speak English. The loaders are a mixture of Belgian or immigrants from one of the Belgian colonies, so depending who is on, I either speak English, or have to speak my schoolboy French to the loaders. There is one old French speaking Belgian staff member who always moans when you bring a truck load of stuff. He likes the warehouse floor clear and moans when you clutter it up with carts and pallets of stuff.
I normally like to help unload and load straight away so I can get out quickly before the rush starts. When I arrive, there is usually only one artic there before me, but I know in the next 40 minutes, three more line haul artics will arrive and things get busy. Once I have my CMR, I pull out of the complex and take my 30 minute break at a trading estate one minute down the road. It’s nice and peaceful there and nice on these summer evenings.
As I head back to Breda, I pass this long layby which is full of EE trucks, especially on a Friday night. It’s in the middle of nowhere, about three kilometres walk from any shops, and next to a drainage ditch so probably full of mosquitos. You see the EE drivers sat eating their camion stew in between the trailers and I think ‘what a godforsaken place to be weekended. Then a few kilometres on, there is the yard of a logistics company that also operates freight trains in Britain, where it’s just a muddy pot holed swamp. And there you see more EE’s parked up in just their unit’s for the weekend with only their satellite dishes and each other for entertainment, and I thank god I have a home and a comfortable bed to go home to each night while these poor wretches have to slum it in labys, muddy yards, and service areas for months on end.
As I rejoin the Antwerp ring road, the sun is going down and you see just how big a marine traffic city Antwerp is. In the distance, illuminated by the setting sun, you see hundreds of cranes from all the docks that are on the outskirts, just like the old London docks used to be I guess.
It’s normally a steady run back to the Dutch border, and Breda ten minutes after it. I let the Polish guys unload the trailer while I have a welcome cup of coffee, and then I take the empty trailer on the 30 minute journey to Tilburg. The route to Tilburg is along an A road and it’s about 10;30pm by this time so dark. The road goes through urban areas but it also cuts through a dark, deep forest. When you see a headlight in the distance, it reminds me of the 1957 black and white film Night of the Demon, where the bloke says “It’s in the trees, it’s coming” (that line from the film was sampled and was the first line of Kate Bush’s song ‘Hounds of Love’ for anybody that’s interested). Anyway, the forest ends and there is a bar at a crossroads which is packed out on a Friday night, and the car park full of bicycles. Often you will see one or more lone girls cycling home from the bar on the cycle path late at night, through the forestry bit with just their cycle lamp for illumination in that black forest. And I think “bugger that for a game of soldiers”. Even I wouldn’t fancy cycling half ■■■■■■ through the forest at night. Too Blair Witch Project for me. However, these Dutch girls are made of strong stuff and things lurking in the forest doesn’t scare them.
At another point on this road is a Shell garage, and the Police were out one night with illuminated batons. As I drew up, they immediately switched to perfect English when they realized I was a British driver, and politely informed me they were doing a roadside breath test, and would I be so kind as to lean down from my window and “blow into this device sir”. Even though I knew I would be clear, it’s always a bit nerve wracking blowing into those things. Thankfully, the green light was illuminated and I was waved on my way with a polite “Goodnight sir” Less than a minute from start to finish. However, I did notice they’d pulled three cars into the Shell garage, obviously recent visitors to the nearby bar.
As you reach the distribution centre, you pass the Barge Terminal Tilburg and see all the containers stacked up, and realize just how important marine traffic is to this country for the transport of goods. You also pass the massive Tesla factory and see all the EE registered car transporters overnighting outside loaded up with Tesla cars, to see how big the electric car industry is becoming.
I have covered the distribution centre at Tilburg in a separate thread called ‘If Carlsberg did distribution centres……. It truly is an amazing place. It’s here that I normally do a trailer swap, leaving the empty trailer that I have for a full one to Utrecht. Now, any new drivers reading this, don’t do as I started to do and rush a trailer swap, otherwise you’re going to ■■■■ it up like I did. The first time I left the legs down. Luckily I heard them drag as I started to pull away and stopped immediately without doing any damage.
The second time I forgot to disconnect the leads. Luckily, I stopped when I heard something bang on the catwalk. All the leads were pulled out but thankfully the airlines were still connected but fully stretched out. I never realized how far they could stretch. The only damage was a knackered ABS lead.
The third time I was rushing, I backed the trailer onto the bay without opening the back doors, so when the staff rolled up the shutter the next morning, they were faced with solid doors and had to call for the shunter. I learn’t to slow down after that and no matter how late you are running, just follow the BLACK procedure.
There are several trucks on the bays, and at half past midnight, the supervisor comes out with the CMR’s and the engines start, as the line haul trucks from various companies head out to destinations in Holland and Belgium. Online customers can shop up to midnight, so if they decide to buy a widescreen Samsung tv or a fridge freezer at five minutes to midnight, it will be loaded onto the truck that night for delivery to their home next morning, which is the reason all the trucks leave at half past midnight.
Oh, and at this distribution centre, you are not allowed any interaction with the load. Thankfully, the staff know how to load the truck properly.
For me personally, it’s now a race against time to get back to Utrecht. If you remember at the beginning of this diary, I said access to the loading bays was tight and difficult. There are four loading bays for artics but only two trucks can really get on at a time. A third can get on but it’s really difficult, especially for me, and you risk damaging the unit on the fence opposite. I know that several trucks will be arriving in Utrecht around the time I get back, and a few minutes can make all the difference as to whether I get onto a bay straight away and an earlier finish, or whether I have to wait for the truck ahead to be unloaded and lose maybe 20 minutes. So it’s foot flat to the floor heading back. It’s a bit like the Irish chasing the boat.
It’s A road for the first ten kilometres before I get to the motorway, and if I have left on time I know that at some point I will pass the Santa truck going the other way. What it is, is a B train red Coca Cola truck that’s heading back to the Coca Cola plant in Tilburg. It’s a prime mover pulling a full lenth trailer and I can see him coming in the distance as the driver has a bright red illuminated cab. If you remember, I said most trucks run to a set timetable and you pass the same trucks at the same times on the same roads. I always wonder how much the drivers of these B trains earn as I wouldn’t fancy trying to reverse them. You see them all over Holland for various companies.
Once on the motorway, it’s a 45 minute run back to Utrecht and if I’m lucky, I’ll get straight onto a bay around 1:45am and hand over to the day man who’s waiting for me. Once we’ve done any handover, I’ll go in with him to help unload my truck, and then help load his so he can be on his way. It takes just 20 minutes or so. I then jump into the courier van that he’s brought for the ten minute drive back to the yard. The offices are deserted so it’s just a case of hanging up the keys and leaving my paperwork, and then heading home for a well deserved cuppa.
Well, hopefully you found the diary interesting and you get a clear idea of what line haul trucking in Holland is all about. All I can say is mainland Europe driving is much more relaxed than back home in Blighty. Much less congestion, roadworks, road rage (I haven’t seen any road rage whatsoever). Just pretty enjoyable driving as it should be. And July and August has been great. Half of Holland goes on holiday and you have eight weeks of no rush hour traffic.
If anybody still hankers for driving a truck in Europe and you have no ties, then I really suggest making a trip over in the car and going round a few companies to see if you can land a job somewhere. From what I hear, there is an actual driver shortage over here. Oh, and wages are supervised by the countrywide Dutch drivers union, ACO, so all companies should be paying about the same. Virtually everyone speaks English so no problems in that respect. Oh, and you might meet a pretty little blonde Dutch girl over here.
Thanks for reading.
keep rolling safe mate and enjoy Dave
