Anyone remember Fred.
I didn’t know Fred but I used to frequent his truckstop at Coslada, Madrid from time to time. The most memorable occasion was being flown into Madrid to pick up an artic that had been abandoned at Fred’s because the driver had bottled out of taking it to Morocco. He’d had a rough first trip and couldn’t face a second. So I tipped and loaded his lorry in North Africa and returned to UK. That was the trip I discovered that Easy Jet don’t feed their passengers, so I was bloody ravenous by the time I got to Freds!
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With Fred you would have to double check and count the change when paying him, the first truck stop was nicknamed the dust bowl by the residential flats.
If the international football was on, the different nationalities of drivers would have too much to drink then end up fighting outside.
He then moved to the industrial area a few streets away and opened a restaurant north of Madrid on the A1 but it didn’t work out too well, it was high up on a hill.
He was multilingual and fluent in many languages.
At the original Fred’s, he would give out vouchers to spend in the multitude of bag houses that he owned for a night of passion with a lady of your choice.
I remember seeing the original Fred’s from the road but never went in. Didn’t it have FRED’S written across the roof? Or am I mis-remembering?
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That sounds like the restaurant north of Madrid on the A1 that had the massive sign, it was about 45 minutes away from Madrid, the original Fred’s didn’t have a big sign for the one by the flats which was his original place and the first restaurant.
When I pulled for British International based in Sholing, Southampton that Tim Alllan owned, they had a driver that witnessed a full blown shoot out with the ETA terrorist group from the Basque Country and the local police and Guardia Civil, all hell kicked off, he vowed never to return to continental driving.
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That’s the one. Fred must have had three locations then. The one I used was in the industrial zone.
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I remember the truck stop that Fred had in the industrial zone as I would walk to the airport to buy English newspapers for something to do when stuck at Fred’s for the weekend as I didn’t clear customs in time on Friday afternoon so I had to wait until Monday to clear customs.
I was amazed on the amount of foreign and UK drivers that would literally sit in the drivers seat all weekend and would only leave the truck for a meal, shower or a few beers then back to the cab again.
On the weekends I would always get the bus or train to the centre of Madrid and take the open top tourist bus to see all the sites.
The truck stop on the industrial area just wasn’t the same as the original dust bowl restaurant as the security staff at the industrial one must have seen one too many American cop films as they were big bullies and very heavy handed, I think they resented drivers for some reason and they were armed with guns, they were all built like Geoff Capes and looked like hairy gorillas.
I have no idea if Fred is still alive, the last time I was in Madrid I did pay a visit to his cafe in one of the big apartment blocks he had on the ground floor, his memory was sharp as a pin, even in the 80’s , he remembered every driver by name.
Coslada is unrecognisable now, so modern and cosmopolitan looking, it’s a nice place to live to bring up a family and the residents seem very happy.
You may remember just one ring shape or doughnut shaped motorway that surrounded Madrid when you were there last, I think it was called the M30, now there must be 12 motorways.
Yes, he definitely had three locations.
I never understood the attraction with Victors near Burgos, the only positive was the hearty and warming meat and potato soup on a cold winters day, the manager or bar man with the ginger beard was called Simon, he never smiled and was a tad grumpy.
I ate in the restaurant owned by a Galician family at the far end by the Repsol garage, their food was absolutely delicious.
The bag house next to Victors may have been the attraction,when paying on a bank card, the statement when it arrived in the UK would say Miguel’s Numaticos or tyre sales in case the partners of the drivers opened their letters, try explaining a night of passion if they put Club Exotica on the statement to the wife, they also accepted DKV cards.
Drivers used the boss’s running money, then had to fiddle the fuel receipt to make up the money they lost on girls and drinks, the mark up on drinks was very high, a small bottle of beer for £20, or cheap champagne from a cash and carry going for £300 or more.
The attraction was that it filled up with the worst kind of Brit driver who’s sole aim in life was to get hammered and fight everybody. BP Cabbage Patch in France ditto. I avoided places like that like the plague and usually slipped down onto the old roads for the family-run hostels (like the Bull-fighters near Bailen).
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Same here to leave the main road for a restaurant, some real gems in the back roads by exiting the Bordeaux to Irun dual carriageway/motorway.
The Cabbage Patch, most of the waitresses married drivers, the showers were very good and it was worth paying more as they were cleaned after each use.
Lots of good Routiers dotted around the ring road of Bordeaux or I used the shoppping malls that had supermarkets with good restaurants.
Then there was Claudes at St Genis, and the British man Tony that did prison time for fiddling the fuel pumps, there was decent CB shop and truck bits shop in the garage.
The Routiers at Vivone near Poitiers was famed for their ample fresh sea food for crabs and lobster.
Sunbilla near Pamplona, if you fuelled up they gave out cash or vouchers for the restaurant, the lentil soup was very nice and the trout with ham in it.
The old centre routier in Bordeaux was pretty good too.
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That was over the big bridge, and there was a small place owned by a Moroccan family near the submarine base.
Most of the North African routiers round there were run by Algerians. There was one at Anais just up the RN10 and another the bottom side of Rouen near the Pirelli factory on the river.
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That’s right, it was the Algerian’s.
I was surprised to stumble onto this thread.I certainly remember Fred from Coslada when his restaurant was near the flats.He helped me once when i caught a local breaking into my truck while i was in it.I broke the guys arm and a couple of fingers but Fred calmed me down and called the police.He told them that the guy fell off my truck when i jumped out of my cab.I never saw any of his other places.I don’t recall any fighting between drivers though.then again i can’t abide football.Not many understand that I’m a Featherstone rovers fan.
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As someone else said above I did try not to visit the regular routiers used by the average British muppet driver.It was too embarrassing.I didn’t mind Claude’s at St,Genis or Sunbilla.When I was driving a truck with a Belgian plate life was a lot easier.
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Fred is a true gentleman, he had a heart of gold and genuinely cared about the drivers.