Any old promotor drivers around

[erf-ngc-european]

sandway:
I loved driving in Turkey in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Sure there was some agro but I found it a lot easier and more enjoyable than say Romania or Bulgy. Not a lot of traffic, roads by then weren’t bad and the TIR secure parking gave you peace of mind. I was thinking of the TIR Kontrol posts where we had to report to whilst on route outbound. I can only remember one of them and that was the one before Adana. Where you came down off the road from Ankara to a T junction. You turned left towards Adana and it was then on your right. I heard a few stories of drivers missing a Kontrol and being sent back from the next one as he didn’t have the previous stamp on his paperwork.

I’ve also been racking my poor excuse for a brain trying to remember the TIR Kontrol posts between Ankara and Bazargan going into Iran. Oh, this is getting worrying. Think I’ll go back to bed.

I remember the one before Adana - it was south of the big climb up to Pozanti. I can also remember clocking into one near Erzincan going east from Ankara. And wasn’t there one just before the Bosphorous bridge in Istanbul? Robert

[gs_overland]

Cor, ! now you’ve got the old grey matter cranking !!
Police Kontrols from Kapik to Habur:
Silivri, Tuzla, Duzce, Kazan, Aksaray, Tarsus, Urfa,
Have I missed one ? Don’t make me go back !!
GS

[erf-ngc-european]

GS OVERLAND:
Cor, ! now you’ve got the old grey matter cranking !!
Police Kontrols from Kapik to Habur:
Silivri, Tuzla, Duzce, Kazan, Aksaray, Tarsus, Urfa,
Have I missed one ? Don’t make me go back !!
GS

Did you mean the Tuzla about 100 clicks down the old national road south of Istanbul? When they built the motorways you could miss most of them out, but you still had to clock in at the salient ones. By the turn of this century even most of the TIR-Kontrols on the nationals had become redundant (Aksaray for eg). Robert

[gs_overland]

ERF-NGC-European:

GS OVERLAND:
Cor, ! now you’ve got the old grey matter cranking !!
Police Kontrols from Kapik to Habur:
Silivri, Tuzla, Duzce, Kazan, Aksaray, Tarsus, Urfa,
Have I missed one ? Don’t make me go back !!
GS

Did you mean the Tuzla about 100 clicks down the old national road south of Istanbul? When they built the motorways you could miss most of them out, but you still had to clock in at the salient ones. By the turn of this century even most of the TIR-Kontrols on the nationals had become redundant (Aksaray for eg). Robert

Hi Robert.
Yes that’s the one.
GS

[erf-ngc-european]

GS OVERLAND:

ERF-NGC-European:

GS OVERLAND:
Cor, ! now you’ve got the old grey matter cranking !!
Police Kontrols from Kapik to Habur:
Silivri, Tuzla, Duzce, Kazan, Aksaray, Tarsus, Urfa,
Have I missed one ? Don’t make me go back !!
GS

Did you mean the Tuzla about 100 clicks down the old national road south of Istanbul? When they built the motorways you could miss most of them out, but you still had to clock in at the salient ones. By the turn of this century even most of the TIR-Kontrols on the nationals had become redundant (Aksaray for eg). Robert

Hi Robert.
Yes that’s the one.
GS

Had to tip there once! Robert

[sandway]

I’ve looked at those places on Google Earth GS and Robert but apart from the TIR Kontrol at Tarsus I just cannot visualise any of the other locations. Something at the back of my mind is saying yes, of course, you do remember, but no picture is emerging. Sad aint it.

However, Aksaray is the one thats giving me most grief. The drive from The Telex at Ankara down to Adana was a days work for me and was one of my favourite drives. As you approached Aksaray, Lake Tuz and the salt flats spread away to the horizon on your right, you came to an ekmet shop laying about 50m back from the road. I always stopped there, bought a loaf straight out of the oven then drove another km to the two TIR parks on the northern edge of town and parked up in the one on the left where I had either a late breakfast or elevenses.

See!! I remember that but I can’t for the life of me remember a TIR Control post there.

[erf-ngc-european]

Here’s a pic I took at the Shell truck-stop in Aksaray. The bloke sitting down is ‘Alluminium’ Andy, who drove that Volvo. Robert

[gs_overland]

If you go on Google maps satellite view, from Ankara, just as you enter Aksaray there is a Toyota dealership and then a BP service station. Right before the Toyota dealers you will see an empty lot, that used to be the Aksaray TIR Polis Kontrol. There were always Hungarocamion, F Troop and Wombels parked up there and us Brits if we couldn’t get past with some Marlboro Kirmize Dozvola !!

[sandway]

I think it was 1981 or possibly. 82 Promotor had a lot of work on for the Baghdad International Trade Fair and JCB were amongst our most prominent customers. Dave Stagg, our transport manager, decided three of us would travel down together all loaded with the big yellow machines and spares via the Koper/Tartous ferry. Now I don’t know why but it seems I was the only driver on the company that was routed this way during the short couple of years this ferry was in operation. However, I was sometimes accompanied by others. I remember running with John Preece, when we went up to Kurdistan and Bobby Keen when we got split up on the way to Baghdad and I didn’t see him again until back in Tartous and Clive Turner who was known as the ‘Arab’ cos of his appearance and on one occasion George Fardell and Jeff Gardner. I am sure there were others but I can’t remember them.

On the one occasion Jeff, a thoroughly nice guy and George ran down with me the trip almost ended in disaster though. Our trip through Belgium, Germany and Austria to Yugo was fairly uneventful, although I was already finding it hard to keep George concentrated on the job, we then boarded the ferry in the port of Koper bound for Tartous in northern Syria. Perhaps this is a good time to explain that this trip for Jeff represented his first to the middle east and whilst George had a fair bit of experience, from his time doing Iran in the mid 70’s, I am sure he’d never been to Syria or that neck of the woods before. I should also point out that George and I had never exactly seen eye to eye or to be more honest we thoroughly disliked each other. On my part it was perhaps of his supercillious manner and the fact that he thought he was a supertrucker when in fact, once behind the wheel, to put it tactfully, many of us thought he would be better off sitting at home counting his money. It didn’t help matters when Dave Stagg told him I was to be leader of our small convoy, not that it needed a leader. I think Dave did this on purpose just to get George wound up. If Dave had been in a position to he would have put Paul Linscott’s name down as convoy leader for this trip. Paul was coloured and George was more right wing than the National Front but luckily enough Paul wasn’t available. I had a feeling Jeff by this time was just trying to keep his head down and not cause any upsets. That wouldn’t last though.

After boarding, George and I found ourselves sharing a cabin but once at sea I kept out of his way by spending as much time as possible on the sun deck. As we all knew we would be at sea for at least three days each way we had brought plenty of reading matter. George had saved up his mail to read and I had some books. Things went smoothly until the second day when he accused me of reading his mail which I hadn’t but I had seen, printed on one of his envelopes which he left lying around the cabin the wording ‘MENSA’, which of course is to do with a high ‘IQ’. I made some funny comment about the fact that his ancestors included Archbishops and Headmasters of Eton College and he was a lorry driver. Not the most tactful of things to say perhaps. Anyway he went ballistic and I went back to the sun deck.

We docked in Tartous about six in the morning. It took a few hours to get all the lorries off the ferry and later, after doing the customs formalities, we were ready to go. We were still in the port so headed off to the exit gate where a last few checks took place including a search of the cab. I was first through then Jeff and bringing up the rear was George who was still his lethargic self. I exited the port and pulled over about sixty metres up the road to wait for the other two. Jeff pulled up to the gate and I saw the Syrian guy who was doing the cab search go round to the passenger door and climb up in. The next thing I saw was Jeff flashing his lights and leaning out of the window gesticulating in my direction. Oh blimey now what I thought. Have they found a stash of ■■■■ in the cab or worse. I immediately ran back, after locking my cab door. Jeff was still sitting in the drivers seat, “whats up” I asked tentatively but I had a feeling there was a big problem. “As I leaned over to unlock the passenger door the lorry rolled back, I forgot to put on the handbrake” Jeff said. “I think I may have run into George”. “You stay here and make sure the Syrian guy doesn’t help himself to anything” I said. “I’ll go and have a look at George”.

With that I ran to the back of Jeffs trailer that was loaded with two JCB’s, the rear one whose arms projected out the back of the trailer by almost a metre. The sight that met me stopped me in my tracks. The two projecting arms had gone straight through Georges windscreen and he was still in the cab. Blo-dy hell, I thought!!!

To be cont.

[peggydeckboy]

SANDAWAY,do not skim on any of this story,its ages since i have read any ,[yes it happened believe me]i am visualizing georges face in his cab…brilliant,thanks yes i have read all the posts,i sort of know your intrepid boss MR STAGG…DBP.

[kmills]

ERF-NGC-European:

sandway:

mushroomman:
Hi Brian, the guy sat next to my wife was John Bruce who was driving for Astran at the time. The two guys on the other side were both Hick’s drivers, Peter (the Plater) Wall and Dennis McCarthy with myself sat at the back. That photo was taken in a fish restaurant on the old wooden Galata Bridge, I heard that the bridge caught fire and burnt down many years later.
Which has just reminded me Brian, can you remember when you used to have a meal in some places and they would pour some sweet smelling oil over your hands, I suppose that it was some kind of modern day hand sanitizer.

Here is another photo that was taken going over Bolu. Sorry if you have seen it before but some of my photos seem to have disappeared because I put them on here using Photobucket.

2

Hello Steve. I hadn’t seen that photo taken on Bolu before. Hope you have more that haven’t been lost. I have attached a couple of photos of a group of us waiting in the queue at Habur. Is the guy in the middle John Bruce? Looks a bit like him. The guy behind him with no shirt is Promotor driver Tommy Birch. I have posted one of these photos before. Does anyone out there recognise any of the drivers.

Sandway, I saw Truckerash over the weekend and asked him who had the Astran subbie flat-top F12 with the spread-axle tilt as shown in your pic. George Hall is the answer! So he may be among the faces you are trying to name . Cheers, Robert

Gday Robert - I don’t know if that was George’s F12, but he certainly isn’t in the pic - I knew George well, and I doubt he’d be taking the picture either. He certainly subbed for Astran for many years tho - from about 1971 to the late 80’s.
Cheers Keith

[erf-ngc-european]

kmills:
Sandway, I saw Truckerash over the weekend and asked him who had the Astran subbie flat-top F12 with the spread-axle tilt as shown in your pic. George Hall is the answer! So he may be among the faces you are trying to name . Cheers, Robert

Gday Robert - I don’t know if that was George’s F12, but he certainly isn’t in the pic - I knew George well, and I doubt he’d be taking the picture either. He certainly subbed for Astran for many years tho - from about 1971 to the late 80’s.
Cheers Keith
[/quote]
It might even be hotter here than where you are today Keith ! Robert

[sandway]

Jeff Gardener, George Fardell and myself were on our way to The Baghdad Fair loaded with JCB’s tractors and spare parts. It was 81 or 82 and we had been routed the easy route via the Koper/Tartous ferry. There had been some friction on the way down between George and myself whilst Jeff just tried to keep his head below the parapet. He wasn’t able to do that any more after the incident at the exit gate to Tartous harbour. He had done the inexplicable and not applied his handbrake and his lorry had rolled back into George’s. He knew what he had done but as he was dealing with the Syrian security, who were searching his cab, I was the one who had to go back to George to check on the state of play. As I got to the rear of Jeffs trailer my worst fears were confirmed. The overhanging arms of one of the JCB’s had gone through George’s windscreen and he was still in his cab. The cab door was open and I ran to it fully expecting to see George squashed back into his bunk. But no, obviously somebody up there was looking after him. He was still sitting there in the drivers seat. A wave of relief came over me. I called up to him but he didn’t say anything. By now Jeff and a couple of Syrians were alongside me. The windscreen was a right mess and the arms of the JCB were about three inches from Georges ample belly. I called out to him again, “are you ok”.

It was at this point he uttered the immortal words that will stay with me until my dying days. He turned to me and said in his well educated voice that had been honed at Eton or somewhere similar, “you know what old boy, if it had got any closer I was going to get out”.

At a time like that you don’t know wether to laugh or cry. It could only happen to George. The man who allegedly drove down a flight of steps because he couldn’t reverse his lorry. The man I met on the autoput in Jugo 40km past the turning he needed desperately trying to find somewhere to turn around. A man whose very name, Fardell, means ‘my burden’. How were we going to explain this one to Staggie.

After things had calmed down I got the other two to the parking area outside the gate and opposite the shipping office. By now George was in full depression mode, all I could get out of him was, “the jobs fu-ked, the jobs fu-ked” and Jeff was in full apologetic mode. I left the two of them cleaning away the remnants of the windscreen and went in search of a solution to the problem. The shipping office seemed a good place to start and sure enough I was told there was a chap who repaired and replaced windscreens about half an hour south of Tartous who was on our route. I went back to the other two to give them the news but instead of being pleased George was even more depressed. He asked if it was a Volvo agent? “We’re in Syria” I said, “not blo-dy Dover”. “The jobs ■■■-ed, I’m going to drop the trailer and go back on the ferry” was his reply. All Jeff did was apologies to George again. Blo-dy hell, give me strength I thought. It was now that I started to curse Staggie for saying I was in charge.

I knew that there was no way George was going back on that ferry even if I had to take his keys off him. If he had to drive to Baghdad and back without a windscreen then thats what he was going to do. I did wonder about putting him back on the ferry and sending him home. I could tip my trailer in Baghdad then come back to Tartous for his and return to Baghdad but I soon discounted that idea as I only had a single trip Iraqi visa. We were all loaded with JCB’s and they were one of Promotors most important customers. No way was I going to risk losing their work just because George had a broken windscreen.

By this time I was seriously pis-ed off. Why couldn’t I be running on my own as usual. It was all Staggies fault. I was a loner. The definition of a loner is ‘one who prefers his own company’. Yes, bring it on! Thats me. But no. I had a job to do. I had Jeff brew up and we sat down to talk it through. Finally, even though he was still deep in depression mode George saw sense, well so he thought. It was now midday. We’d all drive down to the repairer and sus out if he had a Volvo windscreen. If he hadn’t it was back to the ferry for George. Well thats what he reckoned.

We found the windscreen repairer easily enough. It was a small premises on the main road exactly where the guys in the shipping office had said. But even I was a bit taken aback. It was a tip. A few odd screens lying around and plenty of glass, all broken. And it was deserted. We had a look around and someone nearby said the boss was having lunch and would be back later. With this news and from what we saw of the premises George depression grew worse. “Thats it” he said. “I’ve had it”. The jobs ■■■-ed. You two go on without me. “We can’t do that” said Jeff but by then I was thinking that maybe a bit of reverse phycology was needed here. Maybe George needed a bit of pressure, I know he liked to follow others but maybe if he was in a position where he had to sort something out for himself then he would. With that Jeff apologised to George again and said goodbye, I then told him how to get to the Syrian border post east of Damascus and that we would be looking out for him late evening.

And with that we were off.
To be cont.

[sandway]

The three of us were in Syria on our way to Baghdad. Jeff, George and myself had been routed out via the Koper/Tartous ferry. The easy route, should’ve been a doddle, didn’t quite work out like that though. Georges windscreen had been broken by the overhanging arms of a JCB as Jeffs lorry had rolled back into him at the exit gate to Tartous docks. George had gone into depression mode and wanted to get back on the ferry to go back to Yugo to get a new windscreen which was out of the question. We had found a repairer and Jeff and I left him there whilst we pushed on the short distance to the Syrian border post on the Baghdad Road.

Because the true border was in the middle of the Syrian desert both Syria and Iraq built their posts on either side. It was a full days drive between the two. The Syrian one was only a couple of hours drive east of Damascus and three or four hours drive from where we had left George. Normally the last thing I would do was to leave a colleague who was in trouble but with George it was different. I also new that I could easily run back to where I’d left him if need be. I knew he needed to be shaken out of his lethargy and by putting a bit of pressure on him I hoped that he would work his way through it. Dave Stagg, our transport manager, had made it clear on many occasions that he wanted George out but I thought it would be very unfair if Staggie sacked him after this little escapade. After all he hadn’t run into Jeff it was the other way round.

That evening after a slow journey to the border post Jeff and I parked up early evening. We didn’t attempt to do any paperwork. Best leave that to the morning I thought when all three of us could go together. After a meal and a clean up we settled down to await Georges arrival. I was hoping he would arrive before dark. I had parked our trucks by the road so George couldn’t miss us, although knowing George, I knew he could still do that. At last, about nine o’clock, he arrived. I think it was still light but the area may have been illuminated but I could see that George had a new windscreen but not quite what I was expecting. He explained that the chap didn’t have a Volvo screen but he could and would cut down a sheet of perspex to fit the opening. The only way it could be held in place though was by applying loads of brown tape around the edges. This had been done and he then set off to catch us up, however, he soon found out that the thin perspex bowed in and out alarmingly every time a lorry went past him in the opposite direction. It was at this time that the true mettle, or desperation, of the man became apparent.

I’d better explain that George drank nothing but Coka Cola. Not Pepsi, tea, coffee, even water. No, nothing but Coka Cola and it had to be cold. To that affect he had a compressor fridge in the cab full of Coke. He also carried a supply of Coke in cases and it was to this diminishing supply that he turned to for help. He wedged one of these cases between the screen and the dashboard to help stop the perspex bowing and vibrating. It worked to a certain extent but if the screen had come out and Georges precious case of Coke had been destroyed I’m sure he would have just abandoned the lorry and made his was to the nearest airport and home. Luckily it didn’t come to that. Although it was good news that he was back with us I soon found out that Georges mood hadn’t changed much. I doubted he had checked his load recently so I had a walk around the trailer. Sure enough he had a flat. I told him it needed to be changed. All I got out of him was “I’ll do it tomorrow, I’m off to bed”. Seeing that we needed to be away early next morning there was only one thing to do. Jeff and I changed it for him.

Next day we cleared Syrian customs, never a problem here, and headed east towards Rutba, where the Iraqi customs post was situated. Luckily you didn’t meet to much traffic on this road and the screen stayed safe. We did have to apply more brown sticky tape, which George had been given by the chap who fitted the screen, every now and again. We passed through Rutba quite quickly and made our way to Fallujah where we had to do customs. Next day, after registering, we made our way to Baghdad and the Fairground. As we drove down the dual carriageway we came upon an unbelievable spectacle. An Iraqi army convoy of Faun Tank Transporters, minus tanks I must add. Hundreds of them. Filling the road as far as we could see.

We finally got to the Fairground and spent a couple of days there unloading and relaxing. Our journey back to Tartous via the lakes at Ramadi was taken at a sedate pace so as to look after Georges windscreen which was by now hanging in there by a thread. Even when we finally got back to the docks in Tartous George was still miserable but no longer in depression mode. However, I remember him having a go at the kids there who were staring at his screen. Perhaps he was worried they were after his remaining cans of Coke.

[sandway]

A couple of pics of Promotor lorries. By 93 we had picked up a big Ford contract looking after their promotional vehicles. We only had two artics left as most of the car movements were for single cars or two at the most so small rigids were the order of the day.

[sandway]

Looks like Dave ‘Little Dave’ Lloyd driving. Leaving Dover docks mid 80’s.

[sandway]

I am lucky that I have a lot of photos from my Promotor days. I have been pleased to have shared many of them with you and know, from comments received, that you appreciate them also. Copyright does not concern me. If anyone wants to share my photos or use them please feel free to do so. TNUK has laid down guidelines concerning copyright which are very clear. I have broken those guidelines on a few odd occasions mainly to enhance the story I am telling at the time or because its an interesting photo of a Promotor lorry. Yes, I know, thats no excuse. Although I don’t contribute to other sites, only TNUK, there are a number of other forums/blogs around concentrating on our favourite topic. i.e. The good old days. Most are welcoming and happy for you to join in and contribute.

This morning, whilst looking at Facebook, a number of those other sites popped up. One showed a picture of a Promotor lorry from the late 70’s or early 80’s. I am not going to give free advertising to this site so am not naming it. However, I put my cursor over the picture and to my astonishment the the following rather childish, sickening, worrying and chilling message appeared. ‘Think twice before sharing the photos in other sites. Or bye bye forever!!!’. This from one of our own fraternity, no doubt someone we shared road space with back in the good old days. Thats definitely not a friendly site.

I have attached a photo of the same lorry taken at roughly the same time. This was posted on TNUK back in 2008 when Promotor driver Ronnie Hart’s wife ‘littleowl33’ had tried to get a Promotor thread going.

[erf-ngc-european]

sandway:
I am lucky that I have a lot of photos from my Promotor days. I have been pleased to have shared many of them with you and know, from comments received, that you appreciate them also. Copyright does not concern me. If anyone wants to share my photos or use them please feel free to do so. TNUK has laid down guidelines concerning copyright which are very clear. I have broken those guidelines on a few odd occasions mainly to enhance the story I am telling at the time or because its an interesting photo of a Promotor lorry. Yes, I know, thats no excuse. Although I don’t subscribe to other sites, only TNUK, there are a number of other forums/blogs around concentrating on our favourite topic. i.e. The good old days. Most are welcoming and happy for you to join in and contribute.

This morning, whilst looking at Facebook, a number of those other sites popped up. One showed a picture of a Promotor lorry from the late 70’s or early 80’s. I am not going to give free advertising to this site so am not naming it. However, I put my cursor over the picture and to my astonishment the the following rather childish, sickening, worrying and chilling message appeared. ‘Think twice before sharing the photos in other sites. Or bye bye forever!!!’. This from one of our own fraternity, no doubt someone we shared road space with back in the good old days. Thats definitely not a friendly site.

I have attached a photo of the same lorry taken at roughly the same time. This was posted on TNUK back in 2008 when Promotor driver Ronnie Hart’s wife ‘littleowl33’ had tried to get a Promotor thread going.

Threatening behaviour should always be reported to the moderators immediately . Robert

[sandway]

Don’t think it would do a lot of good Robert. The site was started 7 years ago by one guy, ‘The Administrator’, and it was he who posted the message.

[erf-ngc-european]

sandway:
Don’t think it would do a lot of good Robert. The site was started 7 years ago by one guy, ‘The Administrator’, and it was he who posted the message.

Ah! I see where you’re coming from, Sandway. Nonetheless, web-site holders can still be held accountable - flagging up unacceptable conduct might alert them to the changing world. Alternatively, if the the site is on FB, surely FB is moderated… If not, no wonder it’s running into difficulties! Robert