Leaving Fort William to head back to the depot, a run that would normally take about 3 hours. Got to the roundabout at the Coal turn off to see a bendy (from the curtain it was from somewhere called ‘Birmingham’) waiting to pull out of the garage into the flow of traffic. Flashes the driver out and, without even as much as a wave of thanks away he goes, just in front of me, up the A82 to Inverness.
Within half a mile I -knew- that flashing this [Zb] out was a mistake: he drove with his wheels about 2 feet over the white line unless, obviously, there was a car coming, in which case he would slow down and tippy toe to ‘his’ side of the road… then, as soon as the car was past, he would speed back up to his top speed of 15mph (yes, you did read that right FIFTEEN MILES AN HOUR FFS) and resume his position over the white lines.
You could tell a lorry or coach was approaching because, at times like that, he’d pull onto ‘his’ side of the road …… and STOP!
We hadn’t reached Spean Bridge before I could see in my mirrors the mother of all tail-backs; increasingly irate drivers as far as the eye can see. (…. and I know it’s not like twenty miles, but it’s all relative and you know what I mean!)
Stuck behind this [Zb] as he slowly plods up the hill towards the Gairlochy turn off, I’m thinking to myself, 'couple of nice straights coming up. As long as there’s no on-coming traffic… Alternately, there’s the ‘new’ stretch just beyond the Letterfinlay… ’
Dream on sunshine 
Obviously I should have guessed from the tail-back that this cretin obviously doesn’t use his mirrors at all (“Ooh, look, aren’t those things on the side of the cab pretty!), so the chances of over-taking him are positively snowballs due to his insistence on driving over the white lines. ■■■■.
Still, Letterfinlay isn’t far…
Wrong. As soon as we hit the ‘new’ bit the [Zb] [Zb] [Zb] [Zb] is off like a scalded cat… engine obviously on the limiter.
I will leave the rest of the journey up to your imagination… 
The whole episode does, however, raise several questions…
First and, perhaps, the most obvious: Professional? Really?
The [Zb] obviously can’t drive for buttons yet he’s in charge of 44 tonnes as he tramps around the country (He must be a tramper – you don’t get to FW from Brum in a day!). Surely he must have learded something by now – or why is he driving?
Alternately, if he’s a newbie, why the [Zb] is his transport manager sending him up here?
Second: Regardless of service/experience, surely to heaven seeing solid traffic as far as the eye can see – while doing 15 mph on a 50mph road - tells you to pull in and let the traffic clear?
That’s common courtesy, if nothing else!
Three: Why, when you DO reach a ‘good bit’, would you suddenly speed up? Why not either maintain the speed and allow traffic to clear – or pull into the big lay-by for same?
Four: Is it possible that that’s actually the standard of driving ‘doon sooth’? (In which case…)
Five: Have we, as an industry really got so bad that people like that are the best we can get? And is it any wonder that, as an industry, we’re getting/have got such a bad name? (Steps away from the keyboard while Juddian takes deep breath 
)
Oh, and a journey that normally takes about 3 hours took me better part of 6!
, if the recent non Brit agency bods who my lot have seen fit to stick in our vehicles are anything to go by then whole new depths are yet to be plumbed, and we await the next catastrophe that will surely result with trepidation. 
