Houghton Parkhouse Celebrates Production Milestone

Thirty years on from the launch of the first – and award winning – 4 deck Professional livestock transporter that was showcased at The Royal Highland Show, Houghton Parkhouse have delivered the 1000th and 1001st production series to MacTaggart Bros Limited, Castle Douglas, Kirkcudbrightshire.

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Model numbers 1000 and 1001 at Parkhouse Coachworks, Milnthorpe Cumbria. Collected by two of MacTaggart Bros simply stunning Scania R620’s.

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Never a Company to rest on it’s laurels, Houghtons Parkhouse have recently developed a totally new model The Platinum. A sister stable mate to the ever popular Professional – a mainstay on the livestock transport scene – the Platinum has been designed to revolutionise the carriage of multi-species for the livestock transport specialist and offer even greater driver efficiency, safety and ease. The Platinum has control of ventilation for all tiers from ground level, individual lifting trays per bay to allow different species to be carried with variable settings for parting division heights and openings. The lifting trays have no internal side barriers to optimise volume and the entire design is arranged to facilitate fast and easy washing.

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Recently a special height model was designed for client Ewen Bowman, Fort William. The Platinum model was built at 13ft height to allow access locally without having to detour around a low bridge. The Platinum trailer offers many lifting deck height options to allow a variety of species and ages of livestock to be carried. Previously the upper deck of Mr Bowman’s transporter had to be broken down before negotiating the bridge restriction.

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The same features and benefits of truck based quality have been designed in to the 4wd towed T35 Platinum trailer. Capable of being towed by a farm 4wd, the trailer has a load ride height for ease of loading, stability and fuel efficiency. Tri-axle and tandem axle versions, painted and liveried for individual client’s identity (and security) have been sold in 12 / 13 and 14ft lengths across the UK. Two deck models have a lifting deck; making fast loading with ease. Uniquely, the tray lifts high enough to facilitate walk-in washing of the ground floor after use. The smooth sides of the T35 are especially appreciated by the show cattle community and and this has led to the first sale in Eire. At the same time a T35 lifting deck Platinum trailer is being constructed for a sheep farming customer in Belgium

For more information on Houghtons, please contact @JP1 Jeremy Perkins.
Written by Jeremy Perkins from The Farming Forum
Twitter: @livestocktrucks

http://www.twomillsconsultancy.weebly.com

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Northern Lights by Nick Ireland – Part 2

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We took the direction Gothenburg, and then split off towards Stockholm. The roads were excellent, dual carriageway all the way. The extra bit of pedal left under the right foot really helped when having to push the little DAF past the massive 25m long Swedish outfits, I was in awe of them. Near Linkoping we went past some SAAB planes stuck on plinths by the side of the motorway, presumably to advertise the factory at Trollhatten although it was some miles away. Near Sodertalje we took on fuel, I could see the vast Scania factory on the opposite side of the motorway. It started getting dark about 10pm, but by 1am I was amazed to see light coming from the east, the nights are very short here. We stopped at 02:30 for a coffee in the middle of a forest area, and the light was the kind you would get around 5am in England in summer. I took some pictures of the truck and the flash still went off as it was a bit dull, but nonetheless it was light, this was messing with my head!

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The scenery was spectacular, vast areas of forest with lots of lakes. In many places the roads were dead straight for miles, mostly single track now though, and every now and then we’d drive through a deserted town or village, although it was daylight you had to remind yourself how early it was. We reached Ostersund and parked next to some huge 8-wheeled tour buses that were carrying crew for the festival. Steve checked in with the Blondie production crew, and when we found we couldn’t position the truck for an hour or so, he got me a pass and we went off to the catering building for breakfast. When we sat down it quickly became apparent that we were sitting next to Clem, the Blondie drummer! He was giving somebody a brief history of the band and how they broke up and reformed. After breakfast Steve was able to position his truck next to our production crew’s Beat The Street bus and pull my card out. I said my thank you’s to him, and said goodbye, I was due to fly home the next morning. I got to my gorgeous, plush hotel, had a shower and went to bed, the plan being to grab a few hours before exploring Ostersund, then back to bed again in the evening.

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I got up in the afternoon, and took a wander down to the concert area where I bumped into Steve. He was glad to see me, as he wanted to ask if it was a problem to stay on an extra day. He need to take a 24hr break, and wondered if I would drive the truck over to Oslo, where he would stay for a break and I could fly home from there. I had no problem with it, after all and extra days work, and an extra country to tick off my list! He also said as I had a pass I could go and watch the concert that evening, an extra bonus! I left him to make the arrangements while I took a wander around the town, and the fantastic lake that it sits next to. The town itself was nothing special, except for the fact that with no exception every single woman I saw was drop dead gorgeous, it was surreal! Near the edge of the lake I found a visiting fairground, and their trucks that were parked up were all classic Volvo F12’s and Scania 1 series, my camera was glowing red hot by the time I had finished there!

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I also took a wander out of the town and found a parking area with some 25m combinations in it, a spotter’s paradise.

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In the evening I went down and watched the concert, and was blown away, the band was fantastic. Steve spotted me down the front and called me to come round the back of the stage, and proceeded to take me onto the stage so I could watch it from the side, what a thrill.

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After they had finished, we loaded the truck, and set off for Oslo. Heading for Trondheim it was around 5am as I crossed the Norwegian border. Being the first time I had been here I sailed through, and plodded on regardless. About half an hour later Steve poked his head out from the bunk and asked how we were doing, and how far away from the border were we? I replied ‘very well, crossed the border half an hour ago’. He asked what I had done about getting the carnet stamped? Whoops, didn’t realise we had to! So I had to backtrack, and got back to the deserted border at 6am. The customs office didn’t open until 7am so I snoozed in the seat, still feeling rather silly about my mistake. It didn’t take long to process the papers once they opened, there were only a couple of other trucks waiting with us. Then it was on past Trondheim, Lillehammer and to Oslo, the scenery was breath taking and I wish I could have taken more pictures. We reached the outskirts of the airport and found a place for Steve to park. Once again I said my goodbyes and set off for a stroll to the airport. It was a shame to leave, I would have loved to have seen a bit more of Norway, but I wasn’t needed now, Steve’s schedule was a lot more relaxed from here on in, but it was a trip I will never forget, and although I have been back to Scandinavia lots of times since I will always remember this one as the best, so far….!

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Another excellent account of life of a Rock N Roll truck driver from Nick. I have used a lot of his photo in both parts of this blog, but to see all of his photos from this trip, CLICK HERE.

Truckers Wife

I am intrigued to know how many of you have taken your partners out on the open road for a few days or weeks?
When I first met Ben he wasn’t shy at all about telling me his passion and career which was just all about trucks and haulage. Did this put me off? No far from it, in the last few months of him being on the road I threw some sickies off work and spent a period of 2 weeks with him. Didn’t really cross my mind that we would be spending all this time together in a small space, or not being able to have a shower everyday and possibly peeing in a bucket. But I went with it, have camped at V Fest a few times, that never bothered me but being out of your face all weekend at a music festival you kind of don’t give a shit (ed.) monkeys really. But it didn’t seem to bother me being away in the lorry with Ben. I loved being out on the open road, seeing parts of UK that I hadn’t seen before, or even motorways for the fact, learning about his job and love for lorries, the different models, of what looked good and what didn’t, the different companies and owner drivers and the sound of a V8, ( we listen for those sometimes in the summer when the bedroom window is open, fun in the bedroom :).
Sleeping in what I considered dubious lorry parks or outside docks, and Ben telling me that the trailer doors needed to be left open overnight, that spooked me a bit for fear of someone getting into the cab (but probably couldn’t do that from inside a trailer doh!). Bit of adult fun inside the cab with the curtains closed and having other lorries parked up next to you 🙂 kinky!, being the first woman to use the showers at the Birmingham Toll road Services, (that was the best shower I have ever had), or even being snuck into Avonmouth docks showers at the Timber terminal, now that was an experience. They were bloody disgusting and it horrified me that there were toilets in the shower cubicle, it made me heave when Ben said someone could be taking a dump next to us. Quickest shower in history, plenty of men saying “was that a woman”, yes it certainly was who couldn’t wait to get out of there. That I wouldn’t want to experience again.
I got stuck in to helping Ben strap aluminium logs onto the curtain sider at Holyhead, with my steel toe caps, shorts t-shirt high Vis and hard hat, up on top following instructions from the expert!! Good fun!.
During my short travels with Ben I also visited Kirkby Copper Factory, revolting loos, but great cooked breakfast, tried black pudding for the first time.
Loved being able to people watch from up inside the cab, and other drivers staring in whilst I sat with my legs up on the dash enjoying the drive by a man I knew I was falling for fast, good music, and the sunrays coming in through the windscreen, bliss.
I never thought I would enjoy my time away in the lorry, but I did, I loved it (couldn’t do it all the time), but could understand more why Ben loved it so much, travelling all over the UK and Europe, seeing beautiful scenery, iconic landmarks and enjoying the sound and feel of Claudia (that’s what I named Ben’s Mercedes Actros, sorry forgot to mention that at the start).
Funny he kept her absolutely immaculate, always sweeping her out, curtains had to be tied back properly and symmetrical, beds always made no mess anyway, no outdoor shoes inside the cab, but she was his home 5-6 days a week, so cant criticise I am the same about our family home.
I know that he misses being out on the open road and having a lorry to love and care for, which is why he puts as much time as he can, love and passion into his blog, his model collection and getting involved and visiting truck shows here in the UK and Europe.
Sometimes I would meet him at Purfleet (with a dinner cooked by my mum for him to reheat easily in the microwave) and stay overnight with him until he needed to leave around 3-4am, enjoyed meeting drivers from all over (Lord Rylance from Buxton) and hearing tall tales of truckers lives.
I don’t know whether you have enjoyed this read or not, but for ages I have wanted to write something on the blog so took the opportunity whilst Ben is doing bins and recycling, great job for blokes!!:)
I would love to know if your spouses share your passion, have experienced similar trips to me, better or worse. I think it takes a certain type of woman to accept the life of a trucker and what goes with it, but you may not agree.
Oh and I have been told to upload this photo, Ben junior is what I will call him to protect our 4 year olds identity, he has suddenly found an interest in Eddie Stobart, hence the photo. He loves lorry spotting, he knows a Scania lorry, supermarket ones, Mammoet, HC Wilsons, Kersey Freight, and Stobarts. He isn’t quite as bad as his daddy but I don’t think it will be long. but I could be wrong he may become more interested in four legged equines and our daughter will be mad on trucks!!:)

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I hope this blog post finds you and your families well.

Northern Lights by Nick Ireland – Part 1

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Back in 2008 I had only done two jobs for Edwin Shirley Trucking, albeit both to Russia, so was pleased to get a call asking if I could do another double manning trip, this time to Sweden. Never having been to Sweden at the time (I have since made up for that many times over!) I jumped at the chance, and was told to be at Excel in London to meet the truck one evening. I duly made my way there on the train, and after a bit of searching found where the truck was parked, and awaited the drivers return. The concert was still on, Blondie no less, and as I waited back stage I enjoyed a couple of the last songs in the set. Loud cheering and applause told me it was all over, and suddenly I was surrounded by the band and accompanying crew members/hangers on! Feeling like a groupie I went and stood at the back of the truck, and after a short time the driver appeared to load his truck. I introduced myself to Steve, stuck my digi card in then watched the loading take place, not really enough room in the little 7.5 tonner for any more helpers! When loaded we didn’t waste much time in hitting the A2 with Steve at the wheel and headed for Dover. The passenger seat in the DAF wasn’t the most comfortable I have experienced, so I was quite looking forward to getting behind the wheel! After a quick stop for supplies in Ashford we reached Dover, and were loaded pretty quickly onto a boat to Calais. I quizzed Steve over dinner/breakfast about the tour he was on, and it seemed a nice little number. One 7.5 tonner to load only, one tour bus, nice quick loading and unloading, and he had got to know the band and crew very well. When we landed in France it was my turn to take the wheel. The truck was so easy to drive, almost too easy, and I had to keep reminding myself I was in a truck, not a car. Steve warned me to watch my speed as for some reason the limiter wasn’t working, he mumbled something about it being a new truck and they had not had time to get it set properly, which I gladly accepted as an excuse, vowed to keep it around the 60mph mark but was grateful of a little extra in case I needed it to get me out of trouble. The run up into Belgium was as usual uneventful, and Steve plumped for heading through Breda and into Germany through northern Holland. We had a good run, and made good time, stopping briefly for fuel in Holland. In Germany we hit a bit of ‘rush hour’ traffic, but were soon around Hamburg and heading for the ferry at Puttgarden.

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We topped up with fuel before crossing the Baltic Sea on an impressive bridge and soon arrived in Puttgarden. Booking on the ferry we parked in the ranks and awaited the ferry which arrived rather promptly. As we pulled onto the ferry we were joined alongside by a passenger train, quite a shock! As Steve did a bit of shopping on the boat I watched the quayside disappear then joined him in the shop. We spent so much time choosing our wine we were soon nearing Rodby, the 45 minute crossing flew by, and we hadn’t even had any dinner! Steve piloted us off the boat and into Denmark, giving me a chance to take some photos of my first visit there. I found it a pleasant and green place, and was able to quickly indulge in a spot of Scandinavian truck spotting as plenty of Danish trucks were making their way down to the ferry in the fading evening sunshine.

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A pleasant drive in light traffic soon saw us approaching Copenhagen where we were to stop for the night. I had a budget hotel booked while Steve was sleeping in the spacious high roof cab. The hotel was near the airport, which is right next to the Malmo bridge leading to Sweden, but in the morning we were to head off around the other side of Copenhagen and take the ferry instead. I didn’t sleep particularly well, the hotel was basic and the room tiny. Steve used my room’s shower while I stood at the busy junction nearby and did my sad truck spotting bit! (not sad – TB).

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Then after a cuppa we headed off in the direction of Helsingor. Standing on the quay soaking up the sunshine while Steve booked us in I was surprised to see Sweden across the bay so close. Steve said it was only a 15 minute crossing but after a tiny breakfast in the hotel we were determined to get something to eat on the boat. After a short wait while the boat disgorged it’s cargo of mostly cars we boarded, and rapidly found our way to the tiny driver’s restaurant. I think the chef was surprised to get two orders for hot food, but he had them in front of us after around 10 minutes, which just left us enough time to bolt the meal down and get downstairs in time for disembarking. No sooner had we turned the ignition key we were waved forward, hounded off by an impatient Actros driver behind, and we rolled off into bright sunlight and the town of Helsinborg. So here I was, in Sweden for the first time.

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A New/Different Russia? – Part 3 (The Final Part) by Nick Ireland

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Our escort driver we have always referred to as the’ Silver Fox’ was waiting as promised, handgun on show, at 04:15. It was a very cold foggy morning and the trip to the trucks took about 5 minutes. Bryan was up and ready, with a coffee waiting for me. It was a cool -5c and minutes after we started off the snow started coming down. As we cleared the reasonably quiet Moscow roads it came down heavier and soon the roads were covered in a thick layer, which smoothed out many of the potholes! The progress was slow going purely because we were being escorted. At one point Richard overtook the escort car as he was going too slow for our liking, quite often he stayed behind slower moving  trucks with clear opportunity to overtake, after we overtook him he got the message! The snow was really heavy now, and the Russians do not use salt on the roads, just sand, which quickly covers the truck in a thick film, making the windscreen difficult to see out of. The temperature had now plummeted to double figures. It was pitch black until 09:30, and when the sun finally rose it was just a dull, grey light. Gradually the snow eased off and the temperature rose slightly, but the progress was no quicker with so many slow-moving trucks and buses on the road. The road surface was awful now with huge potholes and sections of tarmac missing.

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A big long section of new road was really smooth and gave us a respite for a while but soon we came across a stretch that had been newly laid on a recent trip I did, and that had been all broken up again. The road repairers in Russia must have a job for life, similar to the painters on the Forth Road Bridge! Due to previous experience we knew where we had to turn north at a turning, which was good as the signs were very small and really didn’t reflect the importance of the junction. Just after we turned we flashed the escort to indicate we needed to stop, which he didn’t see and carried on. By the time we had changed digi cards over he had doubled back to us. The gauge on the dashboard now told us it was a dizzy -0.5c, time to take our jumpers off!  Bryan was to do the last 160km to the border, time for me to relax, if you can call being bounced around the cab relaxing, I even spilt my coffee at one point! A few brave hookers still braved the weather, standing at the side of the road in overcoats and hats, and mini skirts!  At a Statoil garage is the next major intersection to head towards Latvia, again unsigned. The road towards the border is laughably a toll road, but you don’t get a decent surface for your money, the first section terrible. You have to pay the toll at the end when you cross the border, halfway across it you have to slow to walking pace to bounce across a raised railway track, with no barriers to warn of approaching trains. I would call it a level crossing, but it is certainly not level! Yet more hookers line this road waiting in laybys.  Shacks and smallholdings that look like they were picked from a shanty town line the road. Halfway down we were flashed by oncoming vehicles about an ANC check, and shortly after we spot a policeman hiding in the bushes. Just before the border crossing they have built a hotel and truck park and we pulled into there. We said goodbye to the ‘Silver Fox’ and Kevin and I went and checked into the hotel. Rich joined us for a beer or two and a meal, which was very nice, and very cheap. I then headed for some sleep, which was easier said than done due to the paper-thin walls and the noisy blokes in the room next to me. At least we had a lie in the next day, we weren’t going to meet the fixer until 09:30 and tackle the border.

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The next morning it was only just getting light when we returned to the trucks, and there was fresh snow on the ground, which had also cleaned a bit of the dirt off the trucks. We cleaned our front number plates (the customs officials get a little angry if they can’t read them!) and set off the few yards to the border with Latvia at 09:30. We paid our road toll at the first barrier, and then waited, and waited. It became daylight and we watched the Latvian cars coming into the adjacent petrol station to fill with cheap Russian fuel.

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It takes hours to transit the border in both directions so it has to be very cheap in order to go through that hassle. We also watch a man fill a Calor Gas bottle from a pump next to the fuel islands, and the amount of gas that was escaping as he was filling it was unreal, health and safety is not really considered here. It took 2 hours to reach the passport control booth, where we had them stamped and our little visa tickets taken off of us. It was a relief to get rid of the slips as you have to keep them with you in your passport all the time you are in the country, and if you lose them you cannot get out without a lot of grief. We then sat at the passport booth until 12:30 when we were pulled forward to the weighbridge where we were weighed and had our height checked, and at 13:00 then pulled into the parking area so the fixer could take our ATA carnets off to be processed. I wandered into the dirty, smelly customs building and changed all the Russian money I had left into Euro for the next hotels, the cashier had a face like thunder, obviously full of job satisfaction! On the way back I passed a Latvian in a DAF XF trying to park in a space that you could get two trucks into. He gave up, and pulled out at such an acute angle he smashed the mirrors of the truck next to him. He stopped to see what he had done, and drove round to the back of the parking area quickly thinking no one had seen him. We then settled in for a long wait, we passed the time drinking coffee and Bryan knocked up a great bowl of pasta. We were entertained by a Coal Tit that kept landing on the windscreen wipers looking for dead insects, and then by a Lithuanian Magnum drawbar that pulled in with a set of wheels missing off the trailer. The trailer leaned at a crazy angle and we figured he was trying to get out of Russia to get it repaired.

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At 17:15 we were handed our carnet back and told to go, so we drove round to the exit barrier. When Bryan double checked he realised our stamped gate pass hadn’t been handed back to us, so he had to go off in search of the fixer, frustrating after such a long wait. Finally we got out, and drove to the Latvian border. At the first booth our carnet was checked, and our passports, they were handed back and we were told to go to the parking area, and walk back. We did this and the guard then told us we had to go to the X-Ray machine, which we had now driven past to park! So, back to the truck, and queue for the X-Ray, a very smart Norwegian Scania was ahead of us, the driver told us he was empty except for some empty pallets to return with. It took a long time to get X-Rayed, and we then parked up again and walked back to the booth, where we were told to go into the customs building, where they stamped the carnet, checked our passports and said we can go. It was frustrating to be held so long at the EU border, it should have been so much quicker, we finally cleared the border at 19:35, and once in Latvia put our clocks back by 2 hours.  We drive past the incoming queue which is about 3km long, and the rain starts again, but thankfully stays as rain not snow, a sign it is warming up? Latvia passes without incident quite quickly, and we stop just inside the Lithuanian border to get road tax. We then head for a garage to swap trailers so Richard has the Sheffield goods on, we didn’t swap previously as the carnets wouldn’t have matched up. After swapping we say goodbye to Rich and Kevin, as we are on different schedules and routes now so don’t expect to meet up again. We roll into Poland late in the evening, and after unsuccessfully trying one T.I.R park with a hotel for room we find a Hessoil T.I.R park with availability.

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I pay for my room and walk back to the truck to get my bags, and when I return to the restaurant I am pleasantly surprised to see Kevin sitting there. They too had tried the first place and had ended up here, so we manage to have another beer together. However we only have one, they are only having a 9hr break and are leaving in the morning but we have to have a 24hr break here. I retire to my room which is tiny and right under the garage shop at basement level. My window looks out at feet level at the customers entering the shop, and I don’t sleep too well.

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The following morning after Kevin leaves I pass the time photographing some Russian trucks in the parking, and watching films on my laptop. It is relieving to be leaving when our break is over, and we roll out into the fog at 02:30. Yet again we bounce our way through Poland over rough tramlined roads. When we approach Wroclaw I’m driving and getting close to my driving limit, but can’t find anywhere to park. Eventually after we get off the ring road I find a layby, and have done 4:45hrs, and do a printout to write an explanation on. As we near Germany we notice trucks coming the other way with snow on the front, a sign of things to come. The temperature drops as we cross the border near Gorlitz and it’s not long before it’s pouring with snow and the autobahn is covered in a thick layer.

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Coming down a steep hill we notice the other side of the road is closed due to an accident, and stuck trucks trying to get up the hill. After the Nuremburg area the snow clears, and at Bad Rappenau we pull into an autohof that has a hotel. There is a secure parking area, a really nice hotel, and a truck stop with a very good restaurant, why can’t we have these in Britain? A bonus being it was free to park. It was a shame we were only stopping for 9hrs, I could have spent a very comfortable 24hr break there!

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The next morning bright and early we set off, and turn south towards Basel on the A5. We run into yet more road works where they are extending the 2 lane sections into 3. The no overtaking in the road works rule was being observed today by all except for a French car. He squeezed past us but then got stuck behind a German artic that was not willing to pull over, straddling the two lanes as he had the right to do, the French driver was not happy! We eventually reached the Swiss border, and went into the customs building. The German office processed and stamped our carnet quickly but when we went to the Swiss window we found a man checking estate agents web sites, and he was most annoyed we wanted our paperwork doing! We were still done in half an hour, and after doing our road tax we slipped through the barrier and drove down the road to Audio Rent at Aesch.

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They tipped our load, and reloaded us with 10 flight cases for Luton within 20 minutes. Back at the border yet again the parking area was under construction and it was chaos. We found a space and Bryan headed off to get the carnet stamped. I spent the time watching an argument between two drivers. A truck with a 20ft tank container had backed into an Italian rigid that had been driving behind it, the corner of the trailer had punched a great big hole into the rigids body.

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When Bryan returned 30 minutes later we went to pull out of the space but the attendants who were trying to park trucks stuck some artics right in front of us, forcing us to blind side reverse out.  A few minutes into Germany we peeled off and headed over towards Colmar, and as we drove into France the sun came out and the temperature rose to 5 degrees C, but as we had been used to below freezing it felt like a summers day. Our route took us past a busy Strassbourg, Metz and Reims and we finished in Ashford after an uneventful P&O crossing where I booked into the hotel near the truck stop.

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The next day we head off to Luton, early to miss the madness that is the M25. It took us a while to get into Luton due to heavy traffic, but once there we were tipped quickly, and were treated to a coffee by the warehouse staff. From there we cut across into Suffolk and to the yard, where I bid Bryan goodbye. We had covered 10,000kms in the ………………….days, and after initially being apprehensive about the trip I had thoroughly enjoyed it and had seen how easy it was to do the trip without escort cars, and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. For now though it was back home for a rest, before going back to the mundane general haulage world until Transam called me again.

By Nick Ireland (That’s him below! – TB)

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See all of Nicks Photos for this trip by clicking HERE.

A New/Different Russia? – Part 2 by Nick Ireland

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In the morning we were pleasantly surprised that the trucks had been perfectly safe, and the lads had had a good night’s sleep. We left at 07:45, and after some terrible roads past countless mines arrived at the Russian border at border at 9am and got our best news so far no queue! There were two trucks waiting to go in, and only half a dozen on the exit side, very quiet. Our fixer was there and guided us through the formalities. We were ushered into the customs compound and sat looking into no mans land for 3hrs. In between the borders we could see around 40 trucks, on both sides, and hoped we wouldn’t have to sit in there too. We settled down to read, chat, and make coffee and Pot Noodles.

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On a couple of occasions we were entertained by the soldiers rush into the adjacent fields, guns brandished. Both times the overweight guards came panting back empty-handed, either the quarry had escaped or they were false alarms. A solitary soldier guarded the exit barrier, and had a semi automatic rifle, and a Stinger to go with his flimsy barrier. At one point he received a radio call, and rushed off to his hut to change his blue woolly hat for his official uniform furry hat, which was obviously not as comfortable. Maybe an officer was coming, but after an hour he sneakily donned his woolly one again, and seemed happier. I asked if there was a toilet available, and when I indicated it was only for a pee he pointed at the fence by the truck, he wouldn’t let me use his Portaloo. A soldier was busy ‘sweeping’ dirt around with an old-fashioned ‘witches broom’ in a futile attempt to keep the crossing clear of dust! Once through we drove directly to the Russian border, our fixer tagging along, and we had to go through the same rigmarole again. Entertainment was provided by two Serbian trucks with tilt trailers, who had been refused entry as their loads had shifted on the terribly paved roads and were bulging out of the tilts. One backed up at a 90 degree angle to the others trailer, and proceeded to reverse into the other, trying to ram the load back into place! Amazing to watch, imagine this happening at Dover? After 5 hours we were cleared to exit.

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We had been told we would have an escort car in Russia, but nobody was waiting for us, so Bryan and Rich decided to go on our own, again I was apprehensive. After 2km we were stopped at a police checkpoint, here we go I thought, I knew we should be escorted. The policeman asked if we were English.  After Bryan replied ‘Yes’ he spouted off English words, smiling. ‘Churchill, Bentley, you have Bentley?’ He clearly didn’t understand ATA carnets so he waved us off with a smile. Once we were clear of the first few villages and onto the motorway the roads very good, mostly dual carriageway and in good condition, amazing really. We made good progress, keeping pace with the more modern European trucks while avoiding coughing, struggling Kamaz and Maz belching out black smoke.  Every now and then we would pull into lane one and let a flying Kenworth or Freightliner whizz past, and we commented it would have been a whole lot slower had we been escorted.

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After some time we skirted Rostov-on-Don which looked very modern with brightly lit streets and buildings, and very Western brand names such as McDonalds and Ikea. Once past Rostov our progress was slowed a little due to new motorways under construction but a reasonable pace was maintained. When we were around half an hour from Krasnodar we were pulled over at a police checkpoint. As we were driving Kevin and I were asked to take our documents over to the police hut, we suspected we were about to be relieved of some money for a fictitious traffic offence. The policeman noted down in a large log our vehicle and personal details and our destination. We had driven over a weighbridge as we entered the checkpoint and this was noted in the book too. He then tried to enter the information into an archaic looking computer, but when it refused to work he gave up. He tried to understand the ATA Carnet, scratched his head and gave up. Then in very broken English he asked if we had any souvenirs, T-shirt, hats? When we said no he wondered if we had any English or American money we could give him, but as we had none on us and couldn’t be bothered to go and find some in the trucks, said no, to which he seemed very disappointed. He then proceeded to fetch some plain paper, and drew us directions to the venue in Krasnodar which was a real help. He then shook hands with us and bade us farewell. We were most surprised at how friendly he was, as was Brian when I related the tale once back in the cab. We followed his directions which were very accurate and were shortly parked up at the impressive looking new arena in the very north of the town. After a celebratory beer we ordered a taxi to our hotel and left Brian and Rich to carry on celebrating!

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We had 3 days in Krasnodar meaning we all got a 45 hour break. The time was spent exploring the city, which to be honest didn’t take very long. It’s not at all pretty, and not a lot to see at all. We did get a taxi to the reputedly largest shopping centre in Russia that was on the outskirts of the city and spent a day there. I managed to buy a proper Russian fur hat that was well needed, as although it was sunny it was still very cold. When we got to the trucks on the night of the show we found we had to travel to Rostov-on-Dom on the crew coach, as the local promoter wanted to travel with the trucks to guide them into the venue. On the way out of the city we overtook the trucks which had been pulled into the same police check that had collared us on the way down! The journey to Rostov took 4 hours, and we were dropped at the crew hotel in the very early hours. We had to get a taxi to our hotel, and spent a good couple of hours trying to persuade the receptionist we were booked in. However, due to an oversight we were too early, i.e. before midday and she was reluctant to let us into our rooms as we had to pay for an extra day, and although we assured her when people woke later in the day in England we could arrange it she still did not want to do it. The situation wasn’t helped by her drunk brother who arrived driving a car and immediately wanted to be our best friend and ply us with drink. In the end we had to leave a deposit of our own money just so we could get to bed as we had to drive that night.

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We returned to the trucks at 10pm, and by 11pm we were ready to leave. Most of the load had to go to Moscow airport to be flown elsewhere, and the remainder had to go back to Switzerland and a few pieces to Sheffield.  Brian loaded all the stuff for the airport, and after we were unloaded we were to take the Switzerland gear from Rich, leaving him with just Sheffield to tip. We decided we would transfer the remaining gear after Moscow so that we would have some goods on each truck going through the border into Latvia so as not to confuse the customs men, and it would also give us a little weight at the front of the trucks for traction should the snow come down.  It was still freezing cold and it was now raining. We weaved our way out of the city to the motorway, 2 lane of course, and passed countless prostitutes with umbrellas and wellington boots.

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An hour from the city we found a DKV garage and filled our tanks, which was a slow process as they only had one pump. While we were filling we swapped the digi cards over. Shortly after leaving we came across a horrendous crash involving two trucks, one of them had the cab ripped off the chassis mounts. We had seen the police on the opposite side of the motorway rushing to it so we went around it and continued, this was the first of many crashes we would see throughout the night, the Russians don’t do night driving very well. The roads were reasonable enough, still all dual carriageway except for several very long stretches of single track through road works where they were updating the motorway.  In places there was snow on the ground but we had been lucky so far. I jumped in the bunk for a snooze and when I woke Bryan tells me I missed a large section of new motorway, no wonder I slept so well, and it’s now -7 degrees C. I take over for a drive and there are the aftermath of several accidents on the road, one car rolled over and lots more in collisions, driving at night is risky here. On the outskirts of Moscow we came across a new paege, we’ve never seen a paege before in Russia, and quite clearly neither had many of the locals judging by the queues and confusion that was being caused. We had to place 120RR in a tray which was slid back in and out again with our receipt on it. We arrived at a garage near Moscow airport in the early afternoon and phoned our contact Andre to tell him we had arrived at the arranged meeting point. Although we were due to unload the following morning we were told today would be ok. Andre turned up about an hour later in his car and we followed him to the cargo terminal at the airport. Now I have done air freight work in England, and it’s a big pain due to security, and id badges etc. However, we drove up to the barrier, Andre said something to the guards and we were waved through! We found the shed that served as the cargo terminal and backed up to a door. Within a few minutes the airport handlers arrived and helped us roll the flight cases out of the trailer via our own ramp. We were tipped and ready to go within an hour, no fuss, no security checks on us, no bother, and a bonus was it had warmed up to +4 degrees C for the unload.

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On the way into the airport area we had spotted a garage the trucks could park at for the night, so we headed for that, and when we met Rich we backed up to his back doors. Unfortunately the padlock on Rich’s truck was frozen solid, so Rich sprayed some WD40 onto the lock and set light to it, and after a few seconds had to beat the flames out with a rag! Not to be tried at home folks, but it worked! We had been told that if we wanted a fixers help at the border going home, we would have to be escorted between Moscow and the border as so far we hadn’t used the escort services the company provides, so they had lost a lot of money. Reluctantly we agreed, and our escort car arrived that evening, even though we weren’t going for 9 hours yet, he was going to sleep in his jeep! He was one of the regular escort drivers we have and is very good, and he said he would give Kevin and I a lift to the airport hotel and collect us again at 4am to return us to the trucks. As we left in his jeep, using one of the ramps Brian and Rich transferred the Swiss cargo onto Brian’s truck before getting some sleep.

A New/Different Russia? – Part 1 by Nick Ireland

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In my job as a double driver, tour trucking speak for double manning, I am not a full-time tour driver, I prefer to be a double driver as I get to stay in hotels rather than the cab (those who read my previous blog know I also do this for Formula 1) my least favourite destination in Russia. Next is any former Eastern Bloc country, particularly Bulgaria and Romania, so I surprised myself by  getting talked into taking on a job to Russia that would travel overland from England, and back again. A good friend of mine persuaded me to take on a job that involved double driving two trucks from Transam Trucking’s yard (Suffolk, GB) to Kazan and Somara. I agreed to the job, and in the space of two weeks the job changed to Krasnodar and Rostov-on-Don, and my friend dropped out! However, I had committed, it was around three weeks work just before Christmas, and another good friend of mine took his place double driving the other truck, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad!

On Weds, 14th November I arrived at the yard around midday and we loaded up the trucks with our personal gear, collected permits, topped up with AdBlue, checked the wheel nuts and left around 1pm. We were shipping out empty to Switzerland where we would load for the gigs, then return the gear afterwards-maybe?! There was talk some of the gear would be dropped off on the way back at Moscow to be flown to further gigs, even though Moscow really wasn’t on the way back! The journey down to Dover was uneventful save a queue to get over the Dartford bridge at 3pm-why? Dover was very busy, we arrived around 17:00 weighed in at just over 17000kg and were booked on the 18:35 P&O boat to Calais. We presumed it was so busy due to industrial action in certain European countries, and possibly the tunnel was affected because of this.  After a nice meal on the Spirit of Britain I changed some spending money into Euros (I had already changed up a float into Roubles and Ukrainian ‘dingbats’-most currency other than Sterling and Euro is known as ‘dingbats’- for our hotels on route) and spent the rest of the crossing swapping tales and planning the route we were to take. Once off the boat it was my turn to do a stint, my driver Bryan having driven from the yard. Bryan hit the bunk and I soon found myself driving in thick fog which cleared just after Bethune. I tired after 2.5hrs of driving and was on the verge of waking Bryan when we came across a peage near Reims which woke me up! I then managed to complete 4hrs 20mins before pulling into a rest area to change over, and immediately jumped into the bed. After a quick read I managed a good  3.5 hrs plus sleep and was rudely awoken by Bryan! Looking out of the window I realised we were in Germany, Bryan routing via Strasbourg and cutting across into Germany near Mullhouse, and it was a very unsociable 3 degrees outside. I only had 35kms to go to Aesch, near Basel and we took Weil-am-Rhein route as it’s normally quieter than the St.Louis border into Basel, so we were surprised to find big queue about a mile from the border. We queued in the second lane for transit and empty trucks, and waited, and waited!

Nearer the border we had to slalom around trucks whose drivers had gone to sleep, amazingly in the other lane two trucks had their curtains pulled, the long queue behind them oblivious they had given up and were parked! 500m away from the border our other truck went sailing down the outside to try to cut in at the front, and he managed it so we later found out. Bryan warned me that he has often seen a policeman standing at the front of the queue directing anyone who has done this down a slip road that leads off to the airport and the St.Louis border with no way of rejoining the queue, so we didn’t risk it. It took 3hrs to reach the border customs area, and the reason for the chaos became clear, they were rebuilding all the parking area and access and parking was restricted. It took us five minutes to buy our Swiss road tax and we were through! In 20 minutes we reached our load point at Aesch, I walked the 10 minutes to my hotel, in a barmy 4 degrees! I was dog tired, but not too tired to make a few notes for the blog! (Top Blogger – BS)

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On Friday morning we walked from our hotel to meet the trucks at 11am, giving us a 24hrs break. It was a beautiful sunny day and was eight degrees centigrade. However we find Bryan and Richard ready to leave but still waiting for the ATA carnets to arrive. We finally get them and leave at 12:30, and are back at the Swiss border in 20 minutes. The building work was taking place on this side too, and we had to wait a while to park. The carnets took 1 hour to open at customs, and we were in Germany again heading north towards Berlin and Dresden. The temperature dropped to freezing once the sun went down but traffic was reasonably light and we made good progress, stopping near Cheminitz to change drivers. I was straight into the bunk and slept solidly until I was woken somewhere north of Wroclaw, Poland. It was freezing, and when I first looked out I thought it had snowed as it was completely white.  Polish roads are damn awful, tramlined and single carriageway mostly. They are busy bypassing towns with new stretches of dual carriageway, so we were forever diverted on and off the A8. I missed the turning onto a new section of by pass and ended up running down the old national road, which wouldn’t have been a problem until I took another wrong turn and ended up on a country lane. It took a while to find a road to reverse into and turn round, and when I rejoined the correct road I realised we were now behind Richard and Kevin’s truck which we had been well ahead of. Running behind the truck, Kevin then took a wrong turning thanks to the Sat Nav and we did a long diversion that cost us about an hour. However it worked in our favour in a way as just before our time was due to run out we came across a good hotel with truck parking so dived in there for an 11 hour break.  It was 07:30 by then and was really cold, the hat and gloves came out! Once checked in we had breakfast and a beer (it was our evening, remember!) and as I was shattered jumped into bed.

Sat evening, and we left at 18:30, and not half hour into journey just after Bryan mentioned there may be drunks around as its Saturday night, we round a right hand bend and an oncoming car crosses the centre line and heads for us. Bryan quickly flicked the steering wheel and the car missed the rear of the trailer by millimetres.  We came across a matrix sign for the Polish/Ukrainian border that said 25 trucks- 3hrs. We were hoping this was accurate as that’s a very good crossing time for that border. However, not long after we came across the back of the queue, which was around 6-8km long, more like 300 trucks!

Around 2km from the border at midnight we pulled into a garage to meet our fixer. He would help process our paperwork, theoretically speeding our crossing. We filled our AdBlue tanks from containers we were carrying in the trailers, as we needed to seal the trailers for transiting Ukraine. We then followed his car jumping the queue, but had to keep stopping to let oncoming trucks through, 20 minutes later we arrived at the frontier at 00:20. By 07:00 we were cleared and entered Ukraine. We had been told we were not receiving an escort car for Ukraine, which was unusual, and I must admit worried me as every time previously we have had one, and tales were abound about corrupt police and bandits. However, Rich and Bryan are very experienced at these countries and were quite happy we didn’t have one as we could do our own thing. Within 10kms of border we were stopped for speeding on a dual carriageway section. As Kevin was driving Richard’s truck in front I drove on and stopped around 1km up the road on the hard shoulder, after all I hadn’t been waved in! I could see lots of arm waving going on in my mirrors, and 15 minutes later when Kevin got moving again, he told me that they wanted to fine him for me speeding as well. He refused and told them to walk up and fetch me back, which they were not willing to do. He was fined 60Euro, turns out we missed a speed limit sign on the dual carriageway that slows you for the checkpoint area.

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The roads were not bad to Kiev, a little potholed in places and rutted, but bearable. We headed for Kiev and drove right through the centre, not sure if we should have, but we didn’t get stopped! Not far from the airport, right in the middle of a 7.5t limit, we found a hotel with lay by parking nearby. Kevin and I checked in, and Bryan and Rich settled down in the cabs.

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At 09:00 we departed Kiev. Amazingly the roads south of Kiev were very good, and mostly dual carriageway, similar to France. We deduced as they were new looking that they had been completed for the recent Euro football championships. The weather was dull but temperatures were above freezing.  Later when it got dark it became hard to see the local Kamaz doing 25mph, with no lights on! This delayed us in the single carriageway sections.  As we got closer to the Russian border the roads became awful, and our speed decreased dramatically.

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We stopped for the night 66km from the border at a motel/brothel. Well we reasoned it was a brothel, there were a group of young ladies naked in the jacuzzi, and men would turn up and escort these ladies elsewhere in the complex, and return them a little later! Added to that, it was in the middle of nowhere with nothing else around for miles.

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Kevin and I left all our valuables in the trucks, locked away, and braved the motel. The rooms were bizarre, huge with velour curtains and leopard skin bed covers. There was no food available but we managed to get some biscuits from a vending machine and some very cheap bottles of beer from the fridge by the Jacuzzi. With broken English/German/French we had a ‘chat’ with the friendly receptionist, broken only each time a couple wanted access to the Jacuzzi. She would switch it on for them, take a bottle of drink in and start the romantic music on the cd player. She was genuinely curious about where we were going, and why! We learnt that she spoke Russian as this part of Ukraine still did being so close to the border, and being occupied for so long. She was most intrigued by Kevin’s tobacco pouch, she had never seen a rolled cigarette before, and gratefully accepted one, only to have a coughing fit, Golden Virginia not agreeing with her! We retired to our boudoirs and spent the first few hours in bed awaiting a knock on the door from a young lady, which luckily (?) never came!

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From Russia With Love……..

Back with a monster blog by Matt Ireland. Yes him of Transam Trucking fame, living the rock n roll life of concert trucking. Matt and myself have been beaten by technology, so to see the photos you’ll have to hit the link at the bottom, but in the mean time you’ve got to watch Matt’s video’s of one of his mammoth trips across Russia in his trusty DAF. Over to a few words from the man himself:

So this is a video diary I have prepared and also photos, both trucks and non trucks. I’ll start with the video links as they sort of explain where and what. They are all quite long (except part 3). I’ll admit I’m no Luke Vernon, I’m not very good at them.

Once we got to the border this was the route; Kazan, Samara, Chelyabinsk, Ekaterinburg, then back via the same way…


However, from Kazan to Samara, the route we actually went on was like this. the “direct road” was pretty much un-passable apparently so we went round!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 

Part 9

All the photos of the trucks I took are at this link: HERE

I hope you enjoy!

Definatly Not All Sunshine & Sand!!

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Some of you may and some of you may not have read the book “Not All Sunshine & Sand” by Paul Rowlands, available from Old Pond Publishing for those who haven’t. Paul just wanted to share a little anecdote of the not so glamorous side of Middle East Trucking, during his days driving for Felixstowe based firm Trans Haul UK.

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“Aaargh, shit! I don’t believe it” By Paul Rowlands
‘Donkey’ Pete and I were on our way to Tehran and Tabriz respectively and had pulled off the road onto a bit of scrubland about 40kms West of Sivas in Central Turkey, to have a wash and clean up in the sparkling stream which bimbled good naturedly along the almost dried up valley floor. It was the height of summer ’78. In spring this stream would have been a raging torrent from all the snow melt and rain and would have washed you all the way to the Black Sea in double quick time. Now though it gently swirled and meandered its way back and forth across the rock and shale covered valley floor and although freezing cold, looked extremely inviting. I grabbed a bottle of the ubiquitous Fairy Liquid and a towel and locking the cab door, scrambled my way down across the scree in my shorts looking for a pool of still water in a back eddy to have a good wash and scrub up. In these dusty driving conditions, with the windows open to catch any prevailing breeze, your body attracted accumulations of dirt and grime like a magnet.
Pete had disappeared in the opposite direction, upstream. Plenty of peace and quiet and room for a private soak! Having found the perfect little pool below a substantial sized boulder, I slowly sank down into the chilly water. With the ambient temperature in the 90’s, to be sat waist deep in this little backwater with the little stream eddying around me was sheer bliss. I was going to make the most of this, no chemical waste or pollution up here in this barren and semi arid part of Anatolia. From here I could see all along the valley floor, and in the distance, the ramshackle and battle weary old concrete bridge that still spanned the river bed, that’s not going to last many more winters, I thought, hope i’m not driving across it when it goes….

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Luxuriating in the cool melt water, I started to wash my grubby torso while watching the water bubbling and gurgling round the edge of my quiet pool. Just occasionally a small branch or bit of detritus, washed down from the surrounding hills, circled my pool and threatened to invade my space before catching the current and floating off downstream.
Then, my state of contented bliss dissolved in a moment of sheer panic!
“Pete, you effing bastard”! I screamed in dismay, just as he appeared from around a large boulder adjusting his zip. “What?” he said, grinning. “Just found a great rock to have a dump Paul, should reach the sea in a couple of weeks”.
“I know”, I shouted. “We’ve just been introduced”. Pointing accusingly at the offending objects….two large floating turds circling my pool on the edge of the eddy, threatening to attack. I splashed water at them, vainly trying them back into the mainstream.
Pete was in stitches watching my futile antics, when around the rock, hove, hove into view his re-enforcements, a soggy mass of newspapers….
“Enough”. I yelled, struggling to get up off the pebbled river bed without making contact with the offensive mess. “Look at that bloody lot”. I said, scrambling out of the water and making my escape. “Sodding floaters! What’ve you been eating…..polystyrene? and i’ll bet that’s my newspaper an all”. Pete was giggling like a schoolgirl. “And there’s no way they’re reaching the Black Sea any time soon”, I called over my shoulder as I made my way upstream to find somewhere less tainted to complete my ablutions….

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The photos are courtesy of the Trans Haul drivers collection on www.toprun.ch

Uncle Dicks Diary 21st April 1969

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As I am the lucky keeper of Uncle Dicks 1969 diary, here’s today’s entry from back then – Yes Dick Snow of Astran / Middle East run fame!

“Left Lebring (Austria) and arrived at Spiefeld at 1030. Crossed border into Jugoslavia and parked up waiting for Belgian drivers. Hope they are going to arrive by Wednesday (23rd April) latest. Had shorts on today.”

You can also find Uncle Dicks diary in Ashley Coghills awesome Astran book, The Long Haul Pioneers. Click HERE to order your copy now!