The first part of this trilogy is HERE
FRIDAY
After nine hours off near Basingstoke, I set off towards Kent. All the way up the M3 I am on the phone, trying to find out what is happening with the Calais blockade. I am desperately trying to get onto the European mainland.
Eventually I find out that the French fishermen have called off their blockade and the port is running freely, so I set a course for Dover.
I pull into Clacket Lane services behind a petrol tanker.
Every time I see one of these particular trailers, I am seized with an
almost irresistable and very juvenile urge to clamber up the back with a
permanent marker and write the word HITLER beneath the manufacturer’s plate.
I had to make a pretty horrible phone call yesterday.
I originally intended to do this leg of the journey double-manned, picking
up the second driver on my way through Kent. When it all went ■■■■-up, I had
to phone him and tell him he wouldn’t be able to come. Instantly he burst
into tears and when I phoned back an hour-and-a-half later he was too upset
to talk to me- I could hear him sobbing pitifully in the background.
I felt absolutely dreadful. But now I have to chance to atone. I call him
again.
Thinking I’m in France, he comes to the phone and in a small and sad voice
he says “hello”.
I say “Look, it’s all changed again. It’s up to you, and you don’t have to
if you don’t want to, and you’ve got a little while to think about it but if
you want I can meet you at Brenley Corner in an hour and you can come to
Switzerland with me”.
“IwannagoIwannagoIwannagoIwannagoIwannagoIwannago!”
An hour later, I pull into a lay-by on the A2. Within seconds, a Renault
Laguna pulls alongside.
It’s Little Harry!
We are travelling on an ATA Carnet, which I have to start at Dover Western
Dock. I also have to wait for the other two drivers who are coming on the
same job. Eventually…
Then it’s time to ship out.
In the Ardennes, a truck overtakes me and as I flash him in, it occurs to me
that this is a very apt name for a transport company…
Into Luxembourg to fuel up, then it’s back into France.We have been in three
different countries- Belgium, Luxembourg and France- in less than an hour.
We arrive at the Swiss border at mid-day Saturday. The first thing we have
to do is to get the carnet stamped by French Customs.
I would have loved to have shown you a photograph of a cheese-eating surrender monkey processing an ATA carnet. Unfortunately it would be illegal to take a photo like that.
Little Harry sorts out the Transit Tax.
And then we’re in!
We park at Gotthard Services, right among the mountains.
We have tomorrow- Sunday- off.
SUNDAY
In the morning, do a bit of research to find out where the nearest cable car
is. There’s one about a 30 minute walk away so off we go.
Question. What is the difference between the ■■■■■■■■ and the pub?
Answer. Blokes can always find the pub.
I’ve no idea who the weirdo in the yellow T shirt is.
I really must get Little Harry to change his T shirt at some stage…
MONDAY
Through the St Gotthard tunnel. It’s 17km long, and is the longest road
tunnel in Europe.
At around 9 a.m. we arrive in Lugano, and tip right beside the lake.
See, I wasn’t fibbing when I said it had doors at both ends!
Job jobbed! I phone my boss Richard, to get my re-load details. We have two
collections in Italy, one at Cantu and one at Brescia, with a third at Dijon
in France on the way back.
To be continued.
EDIT EDIT The next part of this story is HERE
:D:D:D
