Day 1, Monday 22nd March
On the rota the start time for today is 07:00 so when I roll in at 09:15 I am not exactly on time. I have a lot to do today. I have to collect an empty trailer from the yard, get down to the train, cross the channel, get to Paris and…, well actually that’s all I have to do today which explains why I didn’t bother starting at 07:00.
After collecting the keys I throw my bag into the unit and give it a check over. It was serviced on Saturday and all is okay, which is an improvement over the last time it came back from service with no oil in it, or at least well below the minimum mark. Into the yard and I find a clean, empty trailer and with that securely on the fifth wheel and checked over I am pulling out of the yard by 10 o’clock.
A straightforward run down the A1, round the M25, across the bridge at Dartford and down the M20 to the Channel Tunnel train terminal at Folkestone and I am at the machine booking on by midday. No need to get a vignette today as I will only be in France so I just call into the office to change some money and then I pull through to join the queue for the next train. I don’t get pulled for a security check, which is unusual as they always seem to pull me in when I do this run and the trailer is empty. They never seem to get it when they ask what I am loaded with and I tell them glider engines, balloon fillings or radio waves.
I wait for about 20 minutes then we move forward to board the train, I am last on the rear rake. After boarding, the bus takes all the drivers to the carriage at the front of the train where we spend the crossing. I pass the journey watching the bloke sitting opposite me trying to chisel his beans from the plate containing the breakfast he ordered; they seem to have welded themselves to the china and he seems determined to get every last one of them in an attempt to get his money’s worth.
Boarding the train in Folkestone
Out of the tunnel into France and the weather looks promising. We are collected by bus to be transported back to our vehicles and when we get to the truck two in front of mine no one gets off, one genius has managed to get on the wrong bus. This means a bit of a wait until the bus doing the front rake returns all those drivers to their trucks and brings the missing driver all the way to the back of the train.
I make a stop for fuel and then head for the A26 and the A1 to Paris, pausing only to take a ticket for the toll motorway from the machine at Saint-Omer and to pay the €59.50 toll just before Paris. I wonder about taking a break, you can get to where I am going in less than 4.5 hours but not with much time left. I decide to press on, if I run out of time I’ll just take a break on the hard shoulder as once I get on the A86 stopping places are non-existent. I’ve used the hard shoulder for a 45 several times before without a problem on this run and you see trucks doing it all the time. You wouldn’t get away with it in the UK but this is France. As it turns out traffic is light this afternoon and I make it with 10 minutes to spare.
The first collection in the morning is in a place called Champlan, just to the south of Paris, and my route takes me round the east side of the city via the A3, A86 and A6 before a short stretch of the A10 where I take the first exit from it. Ten minutes later I am turning into the street where I must load in the morning.
The road on the left takes me to the delivery.
The customer lets us park overnight in their yard but I want to have a walk down into the town this evening and when I took advantage of their kindness on one of my first visits here I discovered on my return they had locked the gates. I had brought a pizza back with me and I had to slot itt through the bars in the gate, which with having to turn the box vertical to achieve this doesn’t do much for the topping, and then indulge in a very undignified scramble over the top of the gate. I was halfway across the yard toward my truck when the thought struck me that they may have a guard dog, and if they did I guess the smell from the box in my hand would bring it running. I decided if I heard running paws I would use the pizza as a sort of Meat Feast Frisbee in an attempt to distract it. Thankfully there was no dog so the pizza served the purpose for which it was intended.
I drive past the customers gates and although the road is a dead end there is a T-junction I can use to turn round and park for the night and by 18:00 the tacho is on rest, the end country has been entered as F, and I am heading down into the town of Longjumeau.
It’s only a 15 minute walk and I spend the next couple of hours in a bar getting acquainted with a couple of glasses of red wine. I had brought a book with me to read in an attempt it would make me look Bohemian and interesting and enable me to attract the attention of a ■■■■, sophisticated French woman, it didn’t. It’s a real locals bar and it is quiet in the bar with only half a dozen customers in addition to me. They give me some strange looks when I order my drinks in my best French, for best read totally rubbish, but they all wish me Bon Soir when I leave. As a non smoker I do appreciate pubs are now no longer filled with smoke but something does not feel right about sitting in that type of bar in France and not having your nostrils filled with the distinctive smell of Gauloise. I cross the road and get a pizza before walking back to the truck where I watch some stuff on the laptop before I turn in a bit after midnight.
Totals for the day.
500 kilometres
Driving - 6:44
Other work - 0:46
Break - 1:11
POA - None.
Day 2, Tuesday 23rd March
I get up about 06:00 local time and make coffee before driving round and reversing onto the loading bay bang on time at 07:00. There are only 8 plastic wrapped bundles of parcels to go on the trailer and I throw them in the back while the warehouse guy completes the CMR I gave him. I know, if you have read some of my other diaries, it may be a shock to you to read about me loading stuff into my own trailer, but don’t worry I survived the experience. By ten past seven I am on route to my next collection. I am heading for the N20 and my route takes me under a 3.9 metre bridge which our 4.0 metre trailers clear easily. Well, unless you are the agency driver we used on this run a couple of months back who tried to take a 4.25 metre trailer under it… it didn’t fit! This was the same agency driver who the week before when put on the Dublin run refused to set off until he was given a map of Holyhead so he could find the port. If you can’t find the port in Holyhead you really shouldn’t be driving for a living. Needless to say he doesn’t drive for us any more.
Leaving the first collection.
Heading for the N20
The next collection is in Bretigny-sur-Orge, a little further south, and by 07:45 I have arrived and back it onto bay 11. I just wait in the truck and experience has taught me it will be about an hour and a quarter before they begin loading me so I stick the tacho on break.
Sure enough at 09:00 I feel them opening the rear shutter and the ramp going in the back. They won’t actually drive onto the trailer until I take the keys inside so I do that now. They load two pallets, complete the CMR I gave them and then I go across the road, same company, to load on bay 19, they seal the trailer for the 200 metre journey. Again I just wait in the truck until they call me and this time it is only about 5 minutes. I have to go inside here, not because of the keys but because they like you to watch it being loaded. Just nine pallets go on and after they complete the CMR I gave them I am ready to head for Calais.
From here I head back round the east side of Paris and get onto the A1 heading north. I have a good run, I make it with 12 minutes driving time left of the allowed 4.5 hours, which should be enough to board the train. After booking on and having my passport checked by UK Immigration I drive round and join the queue for a train. After waiting for about 30 minutes the queue moves and we board, I am third truck onto the front rake, and I check the driving time once on board - 4 hours 26 minutes. The driver of the Bulgarian Willi Betz truck in front of me makes a bit of a meal of boarding and has to take a couple of shunts. I board the bus and it sets of down the train collecting the drivers from each truck until about three-quarters of the way down there is a lot of shouting on the radio and the driver tells us there is a problem and this particular train is going nowhere.
Boarding the first train.
We get dropped back at our trucks and drive off the train where one of the service cars leads us up the ramp, turns right and takes us down the up ramp from the next platform. We drive the length of the platform and then go up the down ramp before heading down onto another platform so we can board a different train. It appears a truck driving onto the rear of the train has hit the carriage and caused some damage which is what necessitated the change. I’m not sure if it was to his truck, the train or both but often when a driver gets it badly wrong while boarding they either blow their tyres or puncture the fuel tank. There was some chat on the train about a red Scania but I didn’t hear exactly what happened.
The Willi Betz driver proves the old adage that practice makes perfect because this time he nails it in one. I however have a small problem, by the time I am parked on this second train my total driving time since my last 45 minutes of break is now 4 hours and 34 minutes, I’ll have to do a printout and write an explanation on the back. I feel this qualifies as unforeseen and I will explain about the driver of the red Scania. I am correct in thinking there are are two p’s in Muppet am I not?
Heading for the new train, you can see the white car leading us on the ramp on the right.
The trucks from the rear rake passing above us as we drive down the platform.
You can just make out the red Scania which caused the problem at the rear of the train on the right.
There is a wrecker parked next to the train which suggests damage to the truck.
The rest of the trip passes without incident and I arrive back at out depot in Hatfield and check in with security. They enter my details in the computer and I am allocated bay 118. I drop the trailer, take the unit to the car park and unload my gear into my car. After completing my time sheet I take it and my keys to the office and head for home.
Totals for the day.
525 kilometres
Driving - 7:52
Other work - 0:53
Break - 2:43
POA - None.
A straightforward trip with little incident so not much to write about but I did this diary as it will be my last. My LGV entitlement expires on Thursday, as I am 50 the next day, and I haven’t renewed it, or even taken the medical. I hope you enjoyed reading the recent diaries, I enjoyed writing them. That’s All Folks.
But surely it cant be the end of the road just yet mate!! 
