christ, took me long enough to read it - dunno how long it took you to type it, but thanks for doing so, brilliant 
once again mm you have done us proud
Terrific read mm, I echo the other’s comments, it should be recorded in a book for all us “Middle -East Dreamers” to read, it would certainly give Cola Cowboys etc a run for their money. I would definitely buy a copy.
Regarding the Wilson, Kepple & Betty comment at the bottom of the telex message - weren’t these three an act that used to do the Egyptian Sand Dance in the days of Music Hall?
kickstart:
Terrific read mm, I echo the other’s comments, it should be recorded in a book for all us “Middle -East Dreamers” to read, it would certainly give Cola Cowboys etc a run for their money. I would definitely buy a copy.
Regarding the Wilson, Kepple & Betty comment at the bottom of the telex message - weren’t these three an act that used to do the Egyptian Sand Dance in the days of Music Hall?
Right on!You’re showing your age like some of the rest of us on here.
jj72:
christ, took me long enough to read it - dunno how long it took you to type it, but thanks for doing so, brilliant
Ditto, brilliant read
Correct Kickstart, I wonder if they ever went to the Middle East or did they only ever go to The Leeds Variety Hall, in the North East.
Keep it up, excellent reading i remember a lot of the names but find it hard to put faces to the names, but it was 25 years ago, heres a few more pics for those who have not seen them clic on the link then on Daysons.
s144.photobucket.com/albums/r182/klunk-■■■■■■■■
Klunk
I’m definitely showing my age! I’ve got my “Wrinkly” pass for the buses to prove it as well 
.
I look at the photos of the wagons in the old-timers forum and can remember them being introduced, thinking, at the time, how much better they were than the crap that I had to drive. Now we’re looking back on them with nostalgia.
And I can remember watching Wilson, Kepple & Betty doing their Sand Dance on a little 9in Bush television (black & white picture, with a fluted Bakelite casing) as a lad. Don’t know whether they ever went any further east than Lowestoft though.
Changing the subject somewhat, are you still driving in “the land down under” mushroomman, or are you retired now? You certainly still have an excellent memory for the interesting details of you past exploits.
Ive just read that properly and feel like I was behind you in the queue 
I have had the police ■■■■■■ with the gun across the bridge in Russe. I think it was in exchange for some English newspapers and a book. He was going to work too and I thought I would be in the mire when I got to the other end. Instead he just pointed me in the right direction and went home for his tea I think.
As for the permits and dates. I met a rather dishevveled John Willy at Raika, his permit was from last year and it was about the 2nd of January. He had tried being nice, he had tried bribery, he had lost his rag, now he was just looking for inspiration.
My voice at the window must have been his prayers answered as not only was it an English man, it was an English man with 3 or 4 spare in date Hungarian permits and a sense of humour. it wasnt the first time I had helped someone out with permits, Newcastle seemed to keep me very well supplied, when some of the other lads struggled to get them.
JIMMY DORMOUSE, STANLEY AND THE VOMITING VICAR.
Wheel Nut mentioned a story about a vicar a couple of days ago. Me old memory cogs started grinding into gear and I remembered a true story that Jimmy Walker told me over twenty five years ago. A couple of the details are by now a bit vague but to the best of my knowledge this is what Jimmy told me.
I was heading down to Turkey once, driving through Bulgaria, bouncing around on the cobbles on the Sofia ring road, when I saw Jimmy Walker parked up at the Duty Free Dollar Shop.
Jimmy Walker was one of the best blokes that I ever worked with, how he got the name The Dormouse I never really knew but it might not of been a coincidence that the first time that I ever met him three years before, he was parked in a lay by just outside Vienna having an afternoon siesta. It was no great surprise when I banged on his cab door and woke him up from an afternoon nap.
The Dormouse put the kettle on and told me that he was on his way back from Istanbul and up until that morning he had been running with Old Stan.
Stanley Warmbold was in his sixties, he was an owner driver with an orange and black Foden who always pulled for Dow. After travelling together for over a week Stan had turned off into the Bulgarian hills to collect a load of wine, while The Dormouse was going up to Northern Yugoslavia to get a load of furniture.
After The Dormouse and Stan had tipped in Istanbul they had parked up at the football stadium where we often cleared customs. They then got a taxi round to Taci Kocman’s office who was our agent in Turkey, they knew that there would be a telex waiting for them with their reloading instructions. When they arrived at Taci’s office they got a bit of a surprise, Roger our boss was there. He had been doing a bit of business with Taci and suggested that Dormouse and Stanley joined them for dinner that evening at a “ posh ” restaurant that Taci had booked.
Roger explained that they were meeting somebody who had an import and export company in Turkey and had connections with the British Consulate in Istanbul, he was also a man of the cloth and hopefully might be able to send a bit of work our way. It was not going to be a late night as he had booked an early flight back to the U.K. the following morning. Taci also said the he would not be having a late night as he lived on a small island and the last ferry left Istanbul at 10.30 p.m.
At 8 p.m. Stan and the Dormouse arrived at the restaurant to find that Roger, Taci and their friend were already there. They were introduced and Taci said this is the Reverend so and so, or whatever his name was. They ordered a meal from the menu and two bottles of white wine. Stan had one sip of the wine and reached the conclusion that it tasted like gnats pee. As they sold Efes beer there Stan saw no reason why they shouldn’t drink it, Dormouse agreed so they ordered two bottles of Efes.
The reverend who was sitting next to Stan asked “ is that the local poison ? ”.
Stan explained that it was the only decent beer between Austria, Iran and Saudi Arabia. The reverend said that he had been known, to have had half a pint of best bitter back in England and asked Stan if it would be possible to have a small sip of his. Stan went one better, he ordered another bottle and said there you go vicar, you can have a sip of your own when ever you want one.
The vicar was fascinated by Stanley’s tales of driving to the Middle East and as Dormouse said they were getting on like a house on fire. Dormouse ordered another two beers, don’t forget me said the vicar as he showed him that his bottle was also empty. By the end of round two Dormouse was surprised to see that the vicar had finished he’s beer before him and Stan.
After about ten minutes the vicar, who was very chummy with Stanley said are we having another one old pal?.
By the end of round three Dormouse could see that Stan was getting a bit full of himself when he said, do you realise Dormouse that you are the odd one out ?.
What makes you think that Stanley, asked Dormouse.
Well said Stan, Roger has got his own transport company, Taci runs a successful freight agency, the vicar has his own import and export company and I being an owner driver run my own company, you are the only one here who works for somebody else. That might be true Stan said Dormouse, not only have I got less money than you but I have also got less worries.
Not only was Stan getting full of himself but as Dormouse told me, the vicar was as full as a carrot.
By 10 p.m. Roger announced that he had better be getting back to the hotel, Taci also got up and said that he would get him a taxi. After saying goodbye to Stanley, Dormouse and the Vicar they went over to the reception and had a word with the manager. When Roger had left, Taci came back to the table and said that he also had better be going home. He said goodbye to them all and told the Vicar that he was looking forward to talking with him tomorrow, he then left.
Are we having another round said the vicar, round four consisted of three more bottles of Efes. Dormouse said that the vicar had started slurring his words and some of the things he was saying didn’t make sense.
Just before the vicar had finished his fourth beer , he stood up turned around and threw up all over the next table. It was a lucky shot really as the group of people who had been sitting there had left about five minutes before. If there was an Olympic sport for spewing then the vicar should have been awarded the gold and the silver medal for this shot.
I remember Dormouse saying “ you should of seen the look on Stan’s face it was a picture ”.
Stanley, who sometimes still held Victorian values stood there horrified, men of the cloth did not do this kind of thing, his local catholic priest certainly didn’t do it. Are you all right vicar, Stan kept saying but the vicar who was by now slumped down in his chair kept mumbling take me home, please take me home.
Stan who was panicking and embarrassed said to Dormouse, help me get him outside into the fresh air but Dormouse had taken the huff after Stan’s earlier remark and said, he’s one of your kind Stan, you look after him, the Old Boys Network always look after each other.
Stan was getting really frustrated as a couple of waiters came over and were not very happy with the mess that the vicar had made. No, please Jimmy stop messing about and help me out please Jimmy, as by this time the vicar was legless. They both lifted the vicar up, one on either side and with his arms around their necks they dragged him outside, they were followed out by four big Turks who worked at the restaurant. What are you going to do with him now Stan, asked Dormouse. We will put him in a taxi and send him to the British Embassy, some body will know him there, they can sort it out. Somebody told me that in an emergency you can contact the British Embassy 24 hours a day, said Stan. A taxi arrived, they put the vicar in the back and told the driver to take him to the British Embassy.
They went back into the restaurant followed by the four big Turks, the waiters were clearing up the vicars mess and giving them both dirty looks. Stan said let’s have one for the road and then go back to the trucks. He ordered two more beers and said can I have the bill please. It’s alright Dormouse I shall treat you to this, I shall pay the bill and I am sorry for what I said before. Two beers arrived and the bill for about eighty quid.
Stan went ballistic, they are trying to rip us off, he shouted, eighty quid for five beers, bring the manager he demanded. The manager who spoke a bit of English came over and was soon joined by the four big Turk’s. The manager showed Stan an itemised bill for five meals, two bottles of wine and fourteen bottles of Efes.
What about the two men who left first, didn’t they pay for the meals and the wine asked Dormouse. No said the manager, the Turkish speaking man told me that the man who has just left in the taxi had begged them to let him pay the bill.
Look Dormouse said Stan, we are going to have to go halves with this bill.
Oh no were not Stan said Dormouse, you are going to have to cover it. They are your business associates, you captains of industry have got to stick together. If you want to join the golf club and the Masons you are going to have to pay for a lot of business dinners. Anyway you people always claim it back at the end of the tax year, I am only a poor driver working hard to make an honest crust. Dormouse said it was he’s turn to wind Stan up now, besides I only brought out about a tenner with me in case we got mugged, I hid my wallet in the cab.
Stan ended up paying the bill but demanded a stamped receipt, he was very quite all the way back to the trucks. Even the following day he was very quiet but Dormouse kept winding him up by saying have you still got that receipt Stan, whatever you do don’t lose that receipt Stanley, every time they stopped.
Dormouse and I finished our second cup of tea, as it was about 3 p.m. we had decided that it was a bit to early to cancel for the day, besides he was hoping to get up to Nis that evening. I had made an early start that morning and had already done a fair days work but if I carried on to the Turkish border at Kapicule I could get some sleep while I was waiting in the queue, there was always a queue at Kapic.
I said goodbye to Jimmy and rejoined the Sofia ring road, it had started to drizzle and already the mud was beginning to build up on the cobbled road. There seemed to be no camber on the road and in many places there was no drainage, a wave of mud was splashed up and hit my truck every time I met an oncoming vehicle. It was already starting to get dark, Bulgaria in late Autumn looked grim and drab.
After awhile I started thinking of what Jimmy had just told me, maybe I had got a bit of the story wrong or I wasn’t fully paying attention but I am sure that he said at the beginning that the vicar had connections with the British Consulate in Istanbul. I had also heard a rumour that in an emergency you could contact the British Embassy 24 hours a day, although I had never heard of it being proven. Why then had they told the taxi driver to take the vicar to the British Embassy, which was in Ankara, at least a four hour drive away. I don’t suppose that the taxi driver took the vicar to, no surely not.
It was about nine days later when I arrived in Zeebrugge, I was sat in the lines waiting for the ferry which had just docked. Stan drove his Foden off the boat and walked over to see me, I got out of my cab to greet him. Where have you been he asked, Istanbul I told him. Did you see the vomiting vicar on your travels, he said. No I replied, you haven’t lost that receipt have you Stan.
Stan shoulder charged me against the cab, he got me in a headlock and started punching me jokingly in the stomach. You cheeky little bleeder he said, you will be old yourself one day.
About three months ago I was lucky enough to meet up with ten of the old Dow Freight drivers who are still alive. I didn’t think about it at the time that we were all working together, over twenty eight years ago but I realise now just how lucky I was to work with such a great team of blokes. Jimmy Walker was one of them and although I haven’t seen him for over twenty years I don’t think he has changed one little bit. Unfortunately I didn’t get the time to speak to him much as the evening seemed to fly by, I should have asked him if he still remembers this story.
Cheers MM, just read it again and it still makes me laugh
Wish that I had had the chance to meet Stan, sounds like he was a real character!!!..not sure if thats what the mother-in-law would call him though!! 
Like I said mate…WRITE A BOOK!!!
Brilliant Writeup.
We need more like that 
so what happened to DOW i suppose by now a lot of the old hands will have hung up their keys i think the last time i saw one of theres on the road was about 1985/6 i met one of the drivers in Stafford about 20 years ago but i cant remember who lots of people still remember them maybe a book ■■?
markgilly:
so what happened to DOW i suppose by now a lot of the old hands will have hung up their keys i think the last time i saw one of theres on the road was about 1985/6 i met one of the drivers in Stafford about 20 years ago but i cant remember who lots of people still remember them maybe a book ■■?
That was about the end of Dow Freight, about 1987 I think but they were back as R & J in the nineties after an enforced break
There were still quite a few DOW trailers around as they were owned by TIP Rental
MM some names you might know:
Allan WARNER,
John JENKINSON, P.I.E, Charles Ward Intl, Essex Intl, something & Ravel
Jim PEPPER, Cornwall Bros, Charles Ward Intl
Alf, something lives in Romania now
Dave TELFORD,
Tony Khan
Ive had some stories off this lot, again so many you could write a book
Thanks for your stories guys…
Taken me the best part of a week to read through this thread but loved every minute.
Cheers !!!
DAVE LONGDEN.
I received some very bad news yesterday, Dave Longden from Manchester ( ex Dow Freight and Concorde Express ) passed away on Monday after a heart attack. Dave was one of the quite, good guys that ran down to the middle east in the eighties he will be sadly missed by all his family and friends.
It was always a pleasure running with Dave and I can remember especially one trip when four of us had to go down to Izmir in Turkey.
Dave and I had to load at Perkins Engines at Peterborough and the other two had loaded Ford parts at Daventry. When we arrived in Izmir we were told that it was the start of Ramadan and there was nothing that we could do for the next three days. Dave suggested that we all drop our trailers in the customs compound and go to a little beach south of Izmir where he had parked once before . We all ran bobtail for about five miles outside the town and parked at a restaurant across the road from the beach.
We all had a meal and a few Efes and then went back to the trucks for a siesta, after a couple of hours two policemen arrived and gave us all a rollicking for parking there and wanted to fine us. The owner of the restaurant came over to see what the trouble was and started to calm the policemen down, he then took them back inside the restaurant where they stayed for about an hour. When they left they gave us a cheery wave and a blast on the siren.
Dave at one time was a keen scuba diver and often carried a snorkel and a mask in his cab, this trip was no different. In fact it was on this trip that I got hooked in to the wonderful world of snorkelling.
The following day we went on to the beach and Dave took his mask with him, within minutes he had found a small octopus which we played with for over half an hour. It was a funny little thing, it didn’t seem to be scared of us in fact it seemed as inquisitive as we were. You can have a very entertaining couple of hours with four lorry drivers, a couple of beers and an octopus, some body even gave it the name of Leyland.
We spent a fair amount of money over the three days in that restaurant, and twice a day a police car would drive past, sound it’s siren for a couple of minutes and give us a wave.
On Dave’s fortieth birthday his wife had organised a surprise birthday party for him and found out which drivers were at home that weekend. Kath phoned us all up and we all went to a room above a pub that she had booked in Stalybridge.
Dave was gob smacked at the number of people who turned up and like me I bet he never forgot about his birthday cake.
His wife and her friend had made it, in fact it was two cakes pushed close together. Both cakes had been sculptured into medium sized domes and placed very carefully near the middle were two strawberries, one on each cake.
Billy Butter Bum and his partner Jamie were there and when Jamie saw the cake he looked a bit shocked as he said “ it’s a ladies chest ” .
Dave said “ get your teeth into that, it wont taste like the real thing but I am sure that you will enjoy it ”.
It was always good to run with Dave and I will never forget him for introducing me to the “ fried spam and egg sandwich a la trailer box ”.
He will be sadly missed by his elder brother Barry Longden who was one of the trailblazers to Iran and Saudi in the early seventies.
Don’t worry Dave, when you get to heaven there will be no queuing for days like when you used to drive to Turkey, Saint Peter will wave You straight to the front and you wont need a baksheesh.
Rest in peace Dave and thanks mate.
sorry to hear that. Another one of the good uns gone. Did’nt know ya but RIP mate.
Thirty years ago we thought we were going to live forever.We were all enjoying the job and the lifestyle ,living for the minute.That’s why these tales must not die!We will all pass on eventually,but make sure the tales last forever as a testament to the guys that were there.
RIP Dave.
Sorry to hear about your mate Steve…as Bestbooties says, you guys musnt let these stories die out!!!
Time to get writing chaps!!