Interesting stuff Jeff, hopefully you’ll have some success with your book, sounds as if you’ll have a tale or two to tell 
It’s been a while since I was last in Italy, but yours and Archie’s clues have made things clearer 
Yes J…& J… but we also had stuff on from S K B, there seemed to be weekly buy outs at that time. I believe G…x. were involved as well. As far as I know it was all set up at government level, I was just lucky enough to be at the right time/ right place.
I didn’t sit at the side of the road for months at a time watching who was about, so I can’t tell you much about who was first, or who went, and who didn’t, only what happened to me and who I saw when I was doing it.
But I will say that I even if I didn’t see Dave Mackie and the guys doing the gold mine run, I do know they were doing it, as one of the guys at the control points told me there was a few Brit trucks that went through with the steering wheels on the wrong side. I would consider it probably one of the greatest trucking adventures of its time. From my point of view certainly a lot more of an adventure than the Oman stuff I did in between, not that I didn’t consider self privileged to of done that either.
Jeff
I used to run down to G…o at Verona regularly, sometimes with only a couple of boxes on a pallet, always had to cross and clear Ventimiglia with that, got an in bond doc and then did full clearance on site under lock and key, the old boy that looked after the paperwork in Verona had wooden legs, bit of a PITA when he took you to the canteen as progress was rather slow, although a 3 course meal and a carafe of the local brew for under 2000lira was adequate compensation for the extra time 
At another firm we did a fair bit for the company that would partner G…o, this was all live cultures and other top secret stuff, some of the places (laboratories) we went to were in the most unlikely places, from city center office blocks to what looked like stately homes, amazing what goes on under the noses of Joe Public, especially what’s in the back of innocent looking lorries 
How did you end up working out of Udine, it’s a bit off the beaten track for the Brits up there 
Udine, long story short, Was working for a sub company doing Italy for well known Swiss firm ( green trucks H )
It has always been my opinion that what ever happens to the truck or load when it’s on the road is my responsibility, so I have the right to know how it’s been loaded and what’s in it. When other drivers were kipping in their cabs at the ware houses I was usually in the trailer giving a hand, seemingly this didn’t go unnoticed as I could turn up at half 4 in the afternoon and get loaded instead of being told Di mani martina
( spelling )
I had been doing UK Italy Ukraine Italy UK for a while, when the boss at the Verona depot had a chat with me while I was in the back of the trailer, I though it was just a nosy about permits and such like. He gave me 3 addresses for collections, 2 of them had weights and cubic volume the other didn’t, go there last, all in the Udine area. The last address was a new warehouse with nothing inside and I was asked to go up to the office, which turned out to be an interview for the job. They had a list of drivers from Europe and Scandinavia who they were hopping to recruit I was one of them.
I’ve had a proper read through the rest of the thread and would like to comment about the none permit and just bribing you way through thing.
As far as I know we had all the right paperwork, sometimes things looked a bit iffy and “giving a gift to a friend” was the only way to get moving. For the most part most of the guys with the big hats were fairly above board. Even though Russia at that time had a “New Freedom” no one was taking a chance, so turning up a check point with a stack of cash instead of permits would be look on very suspiciously, and I don’t think many officials would of gone for it.
I think that anyone that sent a novice in a truck into Russia without the correct paperwork and only a stack of cash for brides would be a fool. At the time I was doing it there were many check points, and even if you could get through a few of them I’m sure there would of been a good chance of not getting any farther. If you’re in Russia your a long way from home, and any help there is would be a long time coming.
However that just my opinion, and if someone posts up here and says different then so be it, as I said I wasn’t every where at the same time.
Jeff
Hi Jeff, best send me the update, how you been.
hope all is well.
Dave.
Well at least someone actually did the run. Respect to you, my friend.
But there is a universe of difference between the late 90’s and the way this thread started in the late 70’s.
David
As Jeff stated, to go that distance without proper research as to what documents were required would have been very silly, & could turn out to be very expensive.
The only problem that I experienced was with my visa, this was supposed to cover all of The CIS States but the control point at Chimkent always tried to give me grieve about this, claiming that I needed a Kaz visa, some of the arguments did get a bit heated at times but I stood my ground & always won.
Another problem I have just remembered, Kazakhstan transit permit, this cost $300 US & was valid for seven days, it was impossible to go to Zarafshan & return across Kazakhstan in seven days so at the Uzbek-Kaz border I had to pay for another permit, The guards would claim that because you are empty, no permit needed, one guy believed this, got pulled at Chimkent, cost him $800, had a few arguments about this, but in the end always got my permit, on later trips, the permit was valid for one month.
Bribes, at no time was I ever asked to do this, not In Russia,Kazakhstan or Uzbekistan.
Dave.
Hi Dave, not much has changes since the We Transfer thing I sent, only a few words and phrases here and there.
If I remember right our Kaz permits were only valid for one direction, with no time limit on them, but I think if you took any more than a reasonable time to get to the other end there would be unhappy faces. We always had a new permit attached to the paperwork for the return trip.
Apologies again for Belgium Bob using Italian one handed male interest mags to speed things up, I know it caused a few problems later on. It was probably the closest thing we ever did regarding bribes. As I mentioned before even if the Communists had gone there was a definite feeling that big brother was still watching.
There is a section on Top Run about 3 Turkish trucks that went overland to Almaty last year. Hauling for Tuna Logistics they went via Moscow along the A 5 Samara and Ufa, then ran down to Almaty. At no time were they on unsealed roads, it looked good all the way there, Changed times!!!
Jeff
Had another look through the Dave Mackie site last night, brilliant stuff Dave, anyone who hasn’t yet, should click on his little link and have a butcher’s
I was cruising round the inter wed a few years back and came across a guy that was doing a bit of Kaz and Russia in what looked like and F series Volvo. ( very small photo ) I cant remember how I found the thread and only gave it a quick look but according to the bit I can remember said he was some kind of philosopher and was in the process of writing a book, something about Karl marks driving a truck. Has any one heard anything about him, and what it was about.
On the subject of books, I got an email today from a publishing house containing the words unfortunately, and however. Even if my truck used to by 50 shade of gray, I guess my story wasn’t. Now I’m only being ignored by 3 publishing houses, which must be some kind of improvement.
I’ve had a few looks at Dave’s site and would recommend it as well.
Jeff
Don’t give up on the book Jeff. We’re all eagerly waiting to read it now you’ve wetted our appetite.
Gentlemen, I have Jeff’s book, this is a real autobiography, this is the story of what this man has done (been, seen, done, got the t-shirt) this lad is the real thing
If & when Jeff gives me permission to publish parts of his book then & only when I will do so.
Dave. .
Dave as you have probably already read I used to make the t shirts my self, that’s unless you’ve lost the whole thing again. Put up a chapter either from the 1st or 2nd book if you like, wife’s still editing number 3. It might be better on a new thread though as I wouldn’t to muscle in on someone else’s thread. ( up to you )
I’d get my wife to do it for me but she’ at her mum’s for a couple of weeks and I don’t have a clue how to fly this thing.
Be interested to see what other folk think.
Jeff
I am going to post from the start of this book, this is so the reader can follow this mans life from the beginning. enjoy.
As I was going through my younger life, I thought what I did was the same as everybody else was doing. It wasn’t until later on, and eventually meeting and talking to people from different backgrounds, that I found out that what they did was classed as normal, and what I did wasn’t. My life revolved round trucks, road transport and travelling a vast amount of miles to deliver things that normal people took for granted. Most of the people I knew were at the same game as me, therefore living the same kind of life. Most of the rest of the population of the planet lived a completely different kind of life, and knew very little of the things we did to make their lives normal.
Like the tall ships, the building of transcontinental railroads, zeppelin flights and grand ocean liners, what I did was at a unique time in history, which due to the political and mechanical boundaries set by the period, cannot ever be repeated. I am proud to have been a part of it and if I could do it all again I would, but this time I probably would take more photos.
For a few years I had an idea about writing down some of the interesting bits, but didn‟t really know what to do with them, and when I got started they were getting in a bit of mess - so I thought that if I started at the beginning, wrote it down as it happened, and did it as a timeline, then to me at least it would make some sense. At the start I had no idea what size it was going to be, and thought if I managed 8000 words that would be a massive achievement.
What I have written is to the best of my memory of what went on; it may not be exactly as it happened at the time, but most of it was twenty to thirty years ago. I have changed some names and places to protect the identity of people that may not like to be included. As well, as I am no longer in contact with them, I was unable to get their permission.
I wouldn’t call myself a writer, nor a fictional storyteller, so every part of this story is mine, was lived by me, and was not robbed from anyone else — however, there were many other people doing a similar thing to me, at the same time, and no doubt had similar experiences.
This is not a story that was written by a travel writer that once hitched a lift in a truck, and then put together a story about it while trying to cash in on the next big thing. This is the story of my life in trucks, lived second by second, mile by mile, on the road over a long period of time.
Chapter 1
As a boy most of my toys were trucks and I played with them all day in the garden. My only distraction from them was rides on the combine harvesters in the summer time. My Dad was an agricultural contractor based in the Scottish Borders; he had tractors, balers, ploughs, muck spreaders, and combines. He also had a Bedford convertible. It was a tipper that could drop the sides and be made into a flat, although it didn’t hold much interest for me at the time; I never was a fan of Bedfords for some reason. My first memory of it other than my sister riding her bike off the back of it was a trip to Aberfeldy in the Trossachs with some kind of wood chipper and tractor. Dad loaded it the evening before and we left at five o‟clock on Saturday morning, taking a flask of tea and a load of sandwiches. It was very foggy and somewhere along the way, the top spout came of the chipper; every so often Dad would stop to check the ropes. When we arrived at our destination there was no one about and no loading bank either. I don’t know much about how or where it was unloaded because I fell asleep. My mum said I talked about that trip for months, and from then a lot of my toy trucks were loaded with toy tractors.
Spring of the next year I went on a school cruise. France, Spain, and Portugal were the destinations. My mum got a small camera for me, a one ten instamatic if I remember right. “Take photos!” I was told, and I did. At Glasgow docks I took photos of the trucks that were loading supplies onto the boat. At La Rochelle we went to the castle, and I took photos of trucks from there. The edge of the medieval market was good for truck photos as well, and Santander and Lisbon were pretty much the same story. Unic Fiat, Berliet, Saviem, MAN, Mercedes, Volvo, Scania, and Pegaso in Spain, it was all very exotic, and they were all left hand drive.
Dad expanded his business towards hay and straw sales. He would buy whole fields of cut straw or hay, move his work gangs in, bale it and haul it. This meant it had to be moved, so more trucks were needed. His answer was Ford D series with thirty three foot, single axle, flat trailers. There were two the first year which quickly became six the year after that. The drivers came from the tractors. They
were put through their tests, and they drove the trucks in summer and autumn, and tractors in winter and spring.
When I was around ten Dad asked if I wanted a job other than mowing the lawn. I had already written letters to Astran, Trans UK, Chapman and Ball, Whittle International, Carmans, Simon International and many more, asking for driving jobs (especially to Pakistan), but none of them seemed willing to hire a ten year old boy, however enthusiastic he seemed. In some of the later letters I even wrote that I would be willing to do it in a day cab to try to keep the cost down.
Dad suggested that driving an old Fordson Major tractor with a hay ■■■■ in the straw fields would be a good career path. It was five a.m. start with the gangs to get to the fields by six thirty and start loading the trucks, breakfast, and then as it warmed up, driving the tractor, lunch, and more driving the tractor. So I bounced round the hay fields on the old Fordson tractor dreaming of negotiating some far off mountain pass, or hot desert in a Volvo or Scania bound for the orient. This went on for most days as long as wasn’t raining.
It wasn‟t unknown for a loaded trailer to be left at a farm for the farmer to unload it in his own time - however, on one such occasion there was a bit of an incident. The farmer wasn’t around when the driver dropped the trailer, and it turned out to be in the wrong spot for the farmer, so he decided to move the trailer which was loaded nine bales high, best part of fifteen feet. The trailer was the usual thirty three foot single axle flat, with small steel wheels on the bottom of the landing legs. The farmer put a chain round the landing legs, but he hadn’t pulled it more than ten feet when it all fell over. A new set of legs were needed and the farmer didn’t want to pay for the load, as it was damaged.
One day at afternoon tea one of the drivers asked me to go and get his truck which was parked away over the other side of the field; there was no way I was going to miss an opportunity like this. As I was leaving, one of the other guys in the gang said I wouldn’t be tall enough to reach the pedals. I’d seen how they had driven their trucks when I got a ride to the fields, so I knew about twisting the hand brake, clutch, gears, steering and all that stuff. I had an old Austin Mini van that I used to drive round the yard at home, so driving wasn’t a problem; the only problem being (and it had been mentioned before), was I big enough to press the clutch. I tried to walk with dignity across the field, but very soon broke into a run. Climbing into the D series, which for me was massive, I sat on the driver’s seat,
it was miles away from the steering wheel, but I knew about seat adjustment so I wrestled with the lever under the seat til it eventually moved forward. I tried pressing the clutch, but it must have been seized. I could only move it a small way and my legs weren’t long enough. If I pushed the seat back and got myself wedged between the seat and the wheel I might be able to get something going. I got my hands under the steering wheel and pushed hard with my legs, managing to get the clutch nearly to the floor. That would work. I started it up, got back on the clutch, shoved it into gear, and had a wrestle with the hand brake; as I did, I was catapulted off the clutch. Didn’t matter cause I was moving now. Managing to get on to the seat, I could just touch the accelerator to give it a bit of gas. The steering was a bit heavier than the old Minivan and the tractor, but I could manage. There I was driving a truck round a field, ten years old, what could be better than that? I drove back across the field and one of the guys directed me to where I was to be loaded. As I got there I realised there was no way I could get back on the clutch to stop it, so the best thing I could do was pull the strangle cord and choke it. I got the hand brake out as far as I could and got out with a massive grin on my face. There was a lot of cheering and joking from the rest of the gang, and it was suggested that may be I wasn’t quite big enough to drive just yet. Ready and willing I certainly was, but my capability and size just were not quite there yet, so it was back to the tractor and hay ■■■■.
Through late autumn when there was a day off school, I would try to get a ride with one of the trucks. Jimmy Mc Dermot always seemed willing to take me out for the day, and most of his work brought him back to the yard around four p.m. Dad was starting to diversify with the trucks and different things were being hauled, even though agriculture was the mainstay of his dealings. A short tipping trailer was one of the acquisitions and Jimmy used to haul that on bulk sawdust from sawmills in the area to farms. Jimmy had been an HGV training instructor before he came to work for Dad and as we drove along he would give running commentary.
“Checking the road ahead for eejits. Mirror, signal, mirror, manoeuvre, where’s this eejit going”, and he would often shout, “If you can’t see my mirrors, I can’t see you!” Everything else on the road was classified as a moving hazard. “And the road goes to the left, and the road goes to the right. And there’s a junction up ahead. Did you see that car disappear into that dip? What colour was it? Two points if you can tell me before it comes out”. The thing that I did to annoy him most: “Every time I
go to look in that near side mirror all I ever see is the back of your heed”. And it was all said with the broadest Glasgow accent.
The best bits of advice he ever gave me were: “Treat everyone else on the road with respect, but remember that most of them are a bunch of idiots that can and will do the stupidest things at any time, so you have to pay attention for them as well. And. The only part of the road that is yours is from that hedge on the left to the white line, so never cross the white line, because you haven’t paid for it, so it‟s not yours.”
A good ‘taster’, interesting and well written. I take it from a previous post that none of these
books have been published?
No, none have been published, the books go on to tell of Jeff’s life, from his early days in Scotland to his life & work on five continents, these books have reached almost seven hundred pages so far.
Dave.
Sound like the makings of a very good book. I hope someone picks up on it and publishes it.
davemackie:
No, none have been published, the books go on to tell of Jeff’s life, from his early days in Scotland to his life & work on five continents, these books have reached almost seven hundred pages so far.Dave.
Hello Dave, if Jeff can’t find a publisher is there no way that he could serialise it in one of the Trucking magazines like Truck and Driver as long as they make it financially rewarding.
Regards Steve.
I have suggested to Jeff, that he should publish the book as an E-Book, that way it can be downloaded by anyone who has an interest.
Dave.
Hi Dave,
Looks like a cracking read and I hope you get it published. Can I suggest one thing. Please have it properly edited. It will make so much difference to the end product. No one gets it right on their own. You need an independent eye to sort out the grammar and the possibilities of misinterpretations.