On my last trip for Simons (late '76) my Transcon broke down. It was my fault really and I paid the price! I knew it was to be my last trip as I had arranged to join Annie, my girlfriend in Sweden to live there. I didn’t have my heart in the trip which was one to Baghdad. I raced down there, tipped and was hoping to run back empty to Austria and get a load there for the UK but it wasn’t to be as I received instructions to re-load hazel nuts from Giresun in northern Turkey…so I wasn’t too pleased having to go out of my way to get my backload. Still, I gave it big licks, got the load on and set off for home.
I got to the Bulgy border and I realised that as it was approaching winter time I should really get some anti-freeze into the system. I’d been meaning to do so but hadn’t. I tried to buy some vouchers for anti-freeze (bloomin’ vouchers for everything!) but they didn’t have any for antifreeze so I thought, sod it, I’ll just have to carry on and the weather’s not too bad anyway. I continued on and eventually, absolutely knackered, pulled over into a layby in the hills before Sofia and got my head down.
Sod’s law was that there was a big change in the weather overnight with winter setting right in and when I got up the following morning it was cold and icy and I noticed that the accelerator pedal didn’t work. A common fault in cold weather on right hand drive Transcons which had a cable connection. I eventually got it partially working and pulled out of the layby when there was a blooming big bang. Turned out that the cast iron end plate of the oil cooler had blown a hole in it due to some ice that was there and the pressure just blew it away…oil and water ■■■■■■■ out!
I was stuck in Bulgaria for over two weeks in all. The nearest State transport yard didn’t seem very interested in helping me. Maybe because of the fact that I had an American engine. Their wagons on international work seemed to be all Volvos & Mercs at the time. Having to leave the lorry on the side of the road, I got a train into Sofia where I was able to phone the office to get them to send me a new end plate. When I got back to the vehicle the cab had been broken into, side window smashed and my toolbox was amongst the things that had been stolen. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse. Now I didn’t have any tools to fix the problem! I did manage to get some help from one mechanic from the transport yard who it seemed had taken pity on me and with his blowtorch we thawed the radiator and drained all the water out. He said that it was dangerous for me to remain where I was and said that I should try to get the the vehicle down to the next village which was just a kilometer away. I managed to drive down to the village and park in the square but in doing so the rest of the engine oil was pumped out of the cooler by the time I got there.
When I returned to Sofia to collect the end plate from the airport I was shocked to find that they had sent a new oil cooler MINUS an end plate! On informing the office of their error I was told that there was a lorry already on it’s way out and that the driver was a good mechanic and had been instructed to make sure that I was up and running before he continued on his way. I was also informed that there was another lorry homeward bound that had a trailer stripped down and was piggy-backing another stripped down trailer and he was to swap over with my loaded trailer. (Jeffrey getting worried about his load of nuts!) A good example of why not to have unit and trailer under “T.I.R.” as one… which I never did, so no problem there. He arrived after about a week. We did the swap and he was on his way.
Luckily, I still had the broken piece of end plate and it fitted the hole in the remaining plate like a glove so when I was joined by the driver/mechanic (which raised my spirits tremendously as I was getting very low by this point. Most of my clothes had been stolen. I was cold, not much food left and the locals completely ignored me…most probably they had been instructed to avoid any contact with me. Though there was one local who I caught syphoning diesel out of my tank who’s arse I kicked. Nicking diesel from a Simon’s lorry must have been a first. It was us that had a bad reputation for the ’ plastic pipe agency card’) we went to the state transport yard and got the broken off piece welded back into place. Not that easy welding cast iron but they did a good job and to cut this long story a little shorter, I eventually got going again and it held out all the way home.
During all this my transit visa had run out so I had the added problem of having to get an extension on my visa to sort out. I did manage to speak with the British Embassy in Sofia. They said that they were aware of my situation as they had been notified by the Bulgarian authorities. “And?” I asked. “And what? There’s nothing we can do”. Just the sort of response one needs when one is in trouble in a foreign country, eh? I have since realised that helping fellow citizens from their own country is way down the list of priorities for an Embassy.
As I said, it was fundamentally a problem I caused myself and I’m not proud of it. It certainly taught me the importance of anti-freeze! Not that it’s needed where I live now but what was I thinking of at the time? I must have taken my finger off the pulse, so to speak, all because of that powerful thing called “love”. 
Copper says to me “tell porkies, do we?” and they bundled me into a corner of the office saying that they would get round to dealing with me later.
.but when all said and done it was easier to 'fix things’in those days with a bit of juggling around.no one got hurt and everyone gained.the only thing health and safety were concerned with was whether you got the runs from eating too many hazelnuts.mike sargent.