I have edited this a little and lost some text and photos.
However I had a couple of days off and dissapeared on my bike to Woodbridge for a few days
Anyway I had to come back on Friday evening as my loads had been changed for this week. The first job was to run from home into Middlewich to clean my tanker, the last product on Wednesday was glucose, so it is an easy clean. I used the heating system en-route to cleaning which helps them get the rest product out easily. My next load is fresh organic double cream from Stroud going to a dairy in Germany. Normally with milk or cheese products, the tank must be sterilised within 8 hours of loading and water samples or swabs are taken from the tank to test for bacteria. I took the opportunity of cleaning all my boxes & fittings in Middlewich as I had to get an out of hours call out on Saturday afternoon. This involved waiting around an hour for the lads to return and fire the boilers uP.
So I have to run down to Stonehouse Dairies and load that evening, I reported in with all my order numbers, CMR and cleaning certificate and got a blank look from the dumb guard. Have you been here before? “No” Well you have to weigh in before you are allowed in the factory, No ■■■■ Sherlock, I have to weigh in at every factory I load from but as I was only thinking this I managed to smile politely. So I asked him where the weighbridge was expecting to be sent to an outside weigh facility. Its round the corner, you have to park on the bridge and come back to this office. OK. I drove round, parked on the plate and walked back, only 2 or 300 yards. Have you dropped your trailer? “No” I’m loading it, and I’m delivering it, why would I need to drop my trailer? Because its company policy! Who’s company, mine or yours? Our company policy, because we once had a French man who didn’t weigh off■■?
I’m still trying to work this one out as I walk back, drop the tank and return to the security hut. Where did you load? I’m empty. I need a sample, I’m empty. Then we test it before you can unload. I’m empty, how many more times. I have come to load cream for Germany. You are in the wrong place he said. My patience is wearing thin now, I have been here over half an hour and it seems as though we are both speaking Swahili. Deliberately speaking very slowly I said "I HAVE COME TO LOAD FOR GERMANY. My tanker is empty, it is clean and I have an order number to load cream for XYZ.You have to report to the tanker intake bay. Ok, where is that then? Next to the weighbridge he replied.
OK so now one hour later we are getting somewhere, I walked to the intake office and gave him my paperwork. Without looking up or speaking he passed me an empty sample bottle. I just stood there; he then looked up and asked if there was a problem.
I had just about lost it by now, I said rather excitedly, Right, I have been here over an hour, trying to load, I have been asked stupid questions, sent from pillar to post and now I am getting sick of it. Do you have a load of cream to go to Germany on this order number? This is the intake he said, I know this is the intake, the guy on the gate said I had to go to the intake office, Is this the intake office? Yes. But we don’t load tanks.
Tell me pray, who does and where can I find them? They are round the back, I was going to suggest around the bend. He pointed over his shoulder so I walked off in the general direction of his digits. I found a bloke in a white coat, thinking I might be in the local nut house rather than a dairy, I gingerly asked him if he had a load of cream to go to Germany. Is it for Glasgow? NO. NO. NO. It’s for Germany! I only have one load he replied; do you have an order number?
Yippee, I was getting somewhere. You need to be where that tank is, if you go to the intake office and ask for the shunter, he will move it.
I found the shunter in the office where I was previously and asked him if he could move this tank. Is it empty? I don’t know, all I do know is that I am losing the will to live and am asking you to move a tanker cos some bloke in a white coat asked me to.
He connected up & moved it so I quickly parked where it had been, only to be told by someone else, I couldn’t park there, that is the loading point, and I am expecting a tanker in to load anytime now. I said it could be me, I have come for a load for Germany, and your mate has the order number. I only have a load for Glasgow, ok I will take that I said.
Eventually, we established that I was indeed the tanker he was waiting for, he had a load of cream that I wanted so we decided that a compromise be reached and that he should load me.
3 hours later I am loaded, sampled, tested and ready to return to the weighbridge. I asked him if he had a dairy stamp. I got a blank look? Every dairy in Europe has a unique identifying number to safeguard the spread of disease. The stamp is a number and a code that states the number of the dairy, the country and the issuing authority. I have never heard of that before he said. Well I have and if I get stopped by the ministry, customs or even a policeman he may want to check the documents are correct. The weighbridge will sort you out he replied. So I returned to the weighbridge security hut after dropping the tank, he said ok and gave me a weigh note. I went back to the truck, coupled up and parked at the side of the entrance. With my weigh note, my CMR and cleaning certificate I returned to the office, do you have a dairy stamp for my paperwork? Blank looks again, I have seriously lost it now. Look, I have reported in with order numbers that are correct, I have asked for a load and either you are being deliberately awkward or you are thick. Can I speak to your supervisor? Or the plant manager, I cannot leave the dairy until I have the correct paperwork, an EC stamp and a signed declaration.
The next thing, he passed me the phone, Hello, I am the driver from XYZ collecting for Germany, and I need the certificate signing and a stamp on my paperwork. No one seems to have a clue what I need. Please pass me to the guard he asked. All I could here was No, Yes, No, ok yes, No
The guard said that someone was coming over to see me. Lo and behold, the shunter appeared and took me on a guided tour of the factory; he was looking in boxes, buckets, on shelves and under desks. He asked everybody he met, getting more confused by the minute. Have you ever seen a stamp with a dairy logo on, No its an EU number I interject, a stamp with an EU logo on it he asked, an oval stamp with a unique identifier I explain,
A stamp with a dairy logo, No. Eventually he took me up some stairs and he found an office, I thought he was going to doff his cap as he had obviously never been into the inner sanctums before, please sir, don’t beat me again! Not exactly, but he started stuttering and trying to explain what I wanted. I said excuse me, Do you have an EU dairy stamp? I need the certificate of conformity stamping as well as my CMR.
I don’t think we have one, have you asked at reception? I have asked everyone including that bloke with a sweeping brush in the yard. I am now getting rather ■■■■■■ off.
He picked a phone up and talked to someone, apologising for ringing him at home. He then asked about a dairy stamp, and then he began doodling and drew an outline of a dairy stamp, then wrote some numbers in it. That’s it I shrieked, that’s what I’m after, forget the stamp, I will just write those numbers down, that’s what I need, and can you sign this certificate as well. I’m getting excited now and the shunter driver is still muttering about a dairy stamp and never having seen one.
This bloke who turned out to be the production manager then signed my certificate of conformity and CMR. I tried to get the waiting times signed for but that was beyond him. The weigh ticket has your times on he explained. Yes, but I arrived at 1600 and it is now 2100. We can only go by the weight ticket, that is the only record of you been on site. I left the office, muttering slowly to myself. Wondering if there was a hidden camera somewhere and Jeremy Beadle was going to emerge. I dared not even ask him to sign or stamp my Sonntag Genemigung which allows me to drive with dairy products in Germany on a public holiday or a Sunday. It is important to check the small details are correct, because if you get a control or even a problem with the delivery, it is you as a driver, who then has to sort it out and explain to an irate BAG man. Likewise for a dangerous goods declaration, it must be signed and printed legibly, so that if you do cause a small explosion on a ship or in a tunnel, they have someone to blame afterwards.
I’m still seething as I sit in an Autohof in Germany. When I arrived I decided to type this tale, and then walked over to the restaurant, it was closed, the toilets are locked up and I am thinking of ending it all. Instead I had to go against all I have said in the past and eat at a Burger King, like McDonalds I reckon they should be banned. One thing I have noticed is the same sort of people frequent these places. German Chavs are similar to English Chavs, they all drive Novas and Corsas with blacked out windows and wheels with low profile tyres. However in Germany they seem to obey the law better, the cars are fitted with standard exhausts and the rap music is played quietly. Before they drive off with tyres screaming, they get out and clean the lights. About the only rebellious thing they do is steal 2 plastic straws for their Coke and Seven Up.
I woke up and left the Autohof in Sittensen at around 0830 after 12 hours in bed. I had been driving about 20 minutes when I spied a BAG van lurking in the bushes, our eyes met and I saw him pull out after me. He cruised past slowly till he got to my unit, he then slowly crept past & I could see the passenger typing on a laptop, within seconds, he waved and shot off after some other trucks, they can check whether you have the valid maut while on the move, that is clever technology. Phew!
I arrived at the milk factory about 60 kilometres east of Lubeck just before 11am as my booking was between 1200 and 1600 because of the bank holiday in Germany.
Within a few minutes I had weighed in, and was directed by a road sign to Tor 4 to unload, as I drove up the roller shutter door opened and a man met me with a handshake and a sample bottle, He also gave me a syringe, but I turned it down as I thought it was a bit early to start injecting myself…10 minutes later my sample had passed, I had connected up and he shouted to open, “Machen auf bitte” This load was fresh cream and as I had tipped this product before I knew the procedure, although it was the first time in this dairy factory. The operator asked if I could steam the tank when I was half empty. This helps the cream run down the side of the tank; although the cream is loaded cold around 3° Celsius the weight of the moisture from the steam helps the froth to dissipate ensuring the tanker is well drained. As soon as the operator can see steam in the pipeline he will close the storage tank valve and then I can disconnect my hoses. After unloading the dairy will normally allow you to wash out the tank either by using CIP spray balls fitted inside my tanker or using a hose pipe.
Back to the weighbridge and collect my paperwork, incidentally, the weighbridge man and the operator both checked the paperwork for the EC dairy stamp. All this within the hour. In Europe the minimum wage must be a lot higher than the UK, because of companies employing dingbats in menial tasks like security and weighbridges, they seem to use people with a few more brain cells for the Fabrik Polizei or Werkschutz
There is no need to clean out my tanker today as the cream has only been loaded since Saturday plus I have cleaned the thickest residue in the creamery, so Tuesday is no problem. If I had to call the cleaning station out on bank holiday it would have cost a lot of extra money, as it is the cleaning bill will be about £100. I had already planned my entertainment for the day and I took a few snaps for Trucknet from the fish market in Hamburg. I’m now off down the Reeperbahn! I’ve taken a couple of pics for you, from the Reeperbahn police station and one from the alleyway where pretty ladies try to sell you things. There is a notice at each end saying no women and under 18’s allowed although there seemed to be a few 18 year old women sat in those windows. The temptation was overcome and I walked back down to the fish market area where there are lots of good restaurants and bars, some are very expensive though, so you need to check the menu before you walk in and order. I took a short cut through the Turkish quarter and found a small bar near the docks that has been set up for the World Cup; it is the beach club of Hamburg. I drank a couple of beers there and went in search of a restaurant. While returning from the streets of ill repute, I saw a lot of army and police in readiness for the scumbag hooligans, there were even some British police cars and officers involved. Don’t mess with these lads as they still haven’t forgiven us for bombing Hamburg
I have to load Tuesday morning from an oil factory just outside Hamburg for a delivery to Merksem in Belgium. When I arrived at the cleaning station, the man recognised me even though it is more than 10 years since I was last there. I already bought my maut yesterday so once I am loaded I can head straight off. I actually made it to Antwerp and will try to tip early in the morning. This diary is turning into a trilogy of ■■■ in the City. Hamburg Rotterdam and Antwerp in the same weeK!
I’m booked in for tipping at 10am but the booking slots in Merksem are weird, you get times like 1022 and 1518. It never seems to work like that but if 8 trucks turn up at 8am we are all empty by 9.30 as there are 4 points to tip on and the pumps are very quick. While I was there, this Van den Bosch rigid turned up. Manned by the Black Hand gang, they use it in case of large spillages or accidents. The little FL6 carries all the safety equipment, pumps, generators and detergents as well as the water tank to make it a self contained emergency response vehicle. Sometimes it is called out by the police to clear up after an accident, or it can be used around the depot as a jetting unit for the drains. Although in this case they are just cleaning the floor before a new tank installation is built. This is a large customer of ours who take up to 30 loads per day from all points of Europe. After the area is cleaned, our engineers will arrive and fit the pipe work to the new tank farm.
I then have to go to Eiklenboom Transporten in Bergen op Zoom to clean out as they are the specified cleaners for another customer of ours. Normally the driver makes the decision where to clean, but in this case the customer decides. I am loading Orange Juice for Monchen Gladbach in Germany.
This storage depot in Rotterdam have a manufacturing and bottling facility but they also buy in concentrated orange juice from other companies. At the time of my visit, there was this big hulk of a ship delivering juice from Brazil; in fact the tankers were loading straight from the ship through those massive hoses. 0 - 25 tonne in 7 minutes. On my way to this factory, I used my autoroute to guide me in, I had an address but no haven number, and it took me all through the houses and central Rotterdam. Each dock and building in Rotterdam and Antwerp in fact all the Benelux countries use this idea of quay or haven numbers in the larger ports. If you have this number, even a slightly blind man could find the factories. The havens are marked from the motorways such as Haven 1000 to 2500, so if your delivery is at haven 2127 it is quite simple to get there from any direction without the use of maps as the havens are all marked. While I was tipping in Monchen Gladbach, I was talking with a Czech driver who works for an Austrian company; he was our go between for the language, as it was a league of nations. We had an Italian, Frenchman, 2 Dutch and myself with the Czech guy swapping from Italian to Dutch into English and then to German. I wish I had learnt to speak like that; even the Dutch guy from our office was impressed.
I have had my time off in our Depot in Erp and my truck was serviced and brought back to me full of fuel, shiny and sparkling again the plan was to go straight back to Rotterdam and load without cleaning but the factory where I delivered let you scrape the tank out with a paddle and then rinse it with water to get all the residue out. Even though I am loading the same product from the same factory, I have to clean out again in case the rinse water is not sterile. Our customer pays for this extra cleaning and again specifies which station must be used.
While I was in Erp, I had the choice of getting fit in the gym or drinking beer in the restaurant. I took the easy option, so with a bad head I set off to clean in Den Hartogh in Dordrecht before loading Rotterdam again. I specify a coke clean which is a special programme using phosphoric acid, as that is the main ingredient of Coca Cola. This turned into a bad day for my hours. Not getting away from the depot till about 1200 I drove to Dordrecht and was stuck behind 3 more of our tankers, the cleaning takes around one and half hours each and the loading point has a deadline of 1500 although they load up to about 2200. So at about 1800 I’m back paddling the streets of Rotterdam looking for a bar for a nightcap.
This tanker is used for chocolate although it is a General Purpose tank too. Notice the tipping gear on the front and all the electric heaters. The problem is that they are very heavy
I loaded first thing and drove back to Derbyshire. Oh Christ no, my delivery is to another Dairy Crest depot, and they must have a pool of thick gatemen to draw on. I reported on Friday evening but they told me to come back on Saturday at 9am, At least I got home for a pint and kicked the wife and kissed the dog. I reported back and learnt that the labs do not work Saturday mornings and would not start till the afternoon. The lab woman actually turned up at 1700 and as a greeting basically called me a liar. She wanted to know why I wasn’t tipped last night and that she was at work, when I arrived there was no-one there in the lab, She is either trying to use me to cover up for her absence, I wouldn’t mind but she then told me that another tank that arrived after me must tip first. I questioned this and she threw her teddy out. Rang my boss and said I was being obstructive and wouldn’t move my truck. My boss knows me and he called me to get my side of the story; he also has been here so he knows what a shower of crap they are.
This woman argued that I wasn’t there last night, and that I had driven straight home, because she went on holiday and knows it is impossible to drive from Rotterdam to Derby in a day because the ferry takes 14 hours. Some people are dangerous with brains. It actually took me just under 10 hours driving from the Rotterdam factory to my parking place in Hilton.
So the fun starts again and I have to drive down to Dagenham to clean my orange juice out, before I can load dark chocolate, frozen orange juice is classed as hazardous for some strange reason although it isn’t listed in the ADR List and I don’t need any placards, but it is difficult to get a booking on a ferry with it.
I am loading Slough for a delivery to Veghel in Holland next and then clean out in our depot. While I am there I have a tyre changed on the trailer as I had noticed a nail and a small bleb appearing. I also got my bord computer upgraded and a new system fitted using GPRS so it is very quick to send details now. Although with the old system you had time to stop for a coffee and grab a paper before it asked why you had stopped. Now it immediately shows you are stopped, although that works both ways because as soon as I move about 5 feet it shows me as driving again, so it shouldn’t affect the wages.
When my truck was in the communications workshop, I asked the office about cleaning and they arranged for the cleaning station to clean my tank, they clean every single piece of equipment and use numbered seals on all the outlets and pump boxes. This is a full time job for them using 3 or 4 shunt tugs, normally old F12 Globetrotters with hydraulic 5th wheels. You can rely totally on them that the tank will be cleaned to the exact specification for the next customer
I run over to Amsterdam to load cocoa liquor for Italy and because of the tunnel & road closures in Switzerland, we had decided to use an alternative route as we had trucks stuck in queues. I couldn’t get on the train from Freibourg as it was booked solid till Saturday and the customer required an early morning delivery so his staff could process the fresh cocoa as soon as I arrived. So I had to take the long way round through the Blanc. My planner had worked out various scenarios (train, Swiss transit or Austria) to get me there the best route but by the time I had paid the German Maut and Austrian road tax it was cheaper to go France. (For them not me) I had a meeting with a couple of Gendarmes who decided I should have shares in their pension fund. I was fined for passing an overweight camper van in a no overtaking zone, this led to them checking my cards, and I also got a fine for speeding, 98kmh at one point, [135 euros lighter, that will teach me] This was on the stretch between Langres and Dijon which is notorious for over zealous policing, the bobbies training school is supposed to be in that area. The driver of the police van spoke very good English and took me to the local bakery, he got a sandwich and I got him his money from the hole in the wall, which is conveniently located inside the patisserie. He seems to be a regular there as he was having some jolly banter with the girl who served him.
So I got to Ravenna and drove round looking for a Cocoa factory, I drove round again and had to ask the post woman to help. She pointed at a house across the road. It is there she told me. ■■?
This place was indeed a house with a shed built in the back yard next to the orchard. I found the bloke who looked like one of the Mitchell brothers and showed him my CMR. A door slid open and there were half a dozen people at work inside this small factory unit. 2 lads were opening bars of cooking chocolate and melting them in a bucket on a stove. I wondered where he was going to put 28 tonne of cocoa but around the back of his shed he had an old ISO tank sat on railway sleepers.
It was fairly well organised and I started tipping within 10 minutes using my compressed air to blow the load off. When I was nearly empty the Mitchell bruvver came running out and told me to stop. His tank was nearly full and they would have to use some of the product before I could carry on blowing. As it was nearly lunch time he took me around the corner and bought me a drink in a bar. I ordered a sandwich and he paid for that too. When we went back there was room for me to tip the rest of my load although Mr’s Mitchell wasn’t happy with hubby for leaving her to do the work while he was swanning off to the pub. Well, I think that’s what she said anyway.
Before I left Amsterdam I had already been given a reload but that was cancelled so I had to wait in Ravenna for some more instructions, so I can type this update to my last 2 weeks work.
Whilst trying to decide on the best routes for this Italy trip, I called my mate who does a lot of Swiss and he said that it was very busy on the border so we decided that I had made the best choice. But he also mentioned he was buying another truck and did I want to drive it for him. But I politely refused because I enjoy this job and working for friends or family can cause too many problems. I also will never recommend any driver for a job either as that can also backfire with friends. Many years ago I bought a second truck because my mate was out of work, so we were trying to make a living and he was making a better living than me, selling fuel, & making huge expense claims. I got my own back and another mate of mine helped me repossess the truck, leaving this prat with a duvet and all his belongings alongside the A24 at Boxhill.
When I check my messages I have been allocated a new load, so must head back to Milan to clean. I had a choice between Arluno or Viale Certosa ONT so chose to go to Lavaggio Certosa as I have used that station before, although I did get slightly wrong and had to spin round in an Esso garage. This was not taken kindly to by the owner as he didn’t like trucks chewing up his forecourt. Not sure how he gets a delivery of fuel but I ignored him and left him waving his arms with upturned palms like a dead crab. The lads at the cleaning are quite good and they cleaned all my pump boxes and fittings with acid as well as the tank manlids and custom covers, so I gave them a box of slightly warm chocolates that I got out of a skip in Masterfoods.
This pic shows my dash display. I am running low on diesel but as I havent touched the throttle for over an hour running downhill on the gearbox retarder. It shows distance to empty 1960 km to 35 litres
My next load was from Unilever Italia but I was too late to load that day, so I had a shower there and drove a couple of km to a restaurant for a meal and some Rio Tinto wine with a couple of Dutch drivers. When I woke up the next morning I had had visitors, my arms were covered in mosquito bites as I was not so far from the dreaded rice paddy. That lies alongside the A4
At 7am I was rudely interrupted by a loud speaker and my number flashing on a screen in the truck park, I could now go in and load my Extra Virgin Olive oil for delivery to Rotterdam. The system here works like a supermarket butchers counter where you take a ticket and get served in turn, no queue jumping or arguing here!
Although the problems in Switzerland were still there, I opted to go back that way using the Sempione, Simplon Pass as I had a bit more leeway on delivery time, we normally just drop the tanks in our customer in Rotterdam for our shunter to tip, but as I normally keep the same trailer I will wait with mine. I drove up to the little border post at Sempione and had a senior moment; I missed the old customs at Domodossola although it has a massive sign saying Dogana TIR. So I had to retrace my steps about 11km of twisting narrow mountain roads. I never thought about a separate customs compound away from the border, and expected to find a few agents offices to make my T2 transit docs. Instead there is room for about 3 or 4 trucks to park for a few minutes while you get your Swiss tax document and stamp the transit papers.
Being an old ■■■■, I had tried not to buy fuel in Italy although with fuel cards the problem of claiming VAT back isn’t such an issue nowadays. I remember when you had to wait for a couple of years and only then if you were accompanied by both grandparents. Anyway I had to buy some fuel with my credit card; I put 50 litres in to get me 100km into Swiss. With my 22 km detour I had to buy another 50 litres just to get me out of Italy. I managed to find a small BP garage near the border which would accept my fuel card although I had to drop my tank to get on the forecourt.
Apart from the last peage in Italy and the Swiss road tax it was a cheap return trip as I used all route national roads into Luxembourg.
I got to the delivery point at my allotted time, but was met by a look of bewilderment by our Rotterdam shunter. “What did I have”? 25 tonnes of Olive Oil I replied, you are a bit early, he told me it’s not due in till Saturday night at 10pm. He has a computer link to the main office computer so he can tell who or what is arriving and at what time. It is the same detail as my planner sees, although he gave me the wrong details. I showed the shunt driver my bord computer and we agreed that there was a discrepancy. He was correct though as there was still a tanker on the point tipping a load from Greece. The plan is now to park my tank close to the other tanker back to back and the shunter will tip me as soon as he has room in the storage, My reload back home has been cancelled now and the plan is to run back empty to London to load on Monday as I’m on holiday next week and didn’t want to go too far from home. If I am given a trip to Athens on Wednesday, I know I would go, and spoil my racing holidays. So the long weekend in Rotterdam is fine, where I have found another bar, Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix on the jukebox lots of beer, a pungent smell of electric woodbines and the only thing to eat was cake.
I woke up refreshed, something had woken me, it was the shunter climbing on my tank to close my lids and lower the handrail. He apologised for waking me but by then it was nearly 8.30. I am now parked in Meer for the weekend, showered, truck interior clean and smelling of flash lemon and going for a beer or 3 with a couple of Swiss tanker drivers I met in Rotterdam. Over the last 17 or 18 days I have given a snapshot of what is involved in tanker work, the delays, the products and the bureaucracy.
There are times when we all could call it a day when things are going awry but when I am sat outside a little bar in Italy looking at pretty girls & watching the world go by, I’m a happy chappy. This really is the best job in the world when the sun is shining; things are going along smoothly and no-one on your back to be somewhere impossible yesterday.
I enjoyed Neil’s diaries of his work, and his book, Coffee to Go. Mine is an alcoholic version with mind bending cakes!
, I’m sure it is a
