So, because of the bead jangling left footers’ All Saints Day kerfuffle with driving bans in Westfalen and France on Monday, it’s a 22.00 start on Monday evening.
Can’t remember the last time I had a 22.00 start - the digi tacho has put a stop to all that. Used to regularly leave on a Sunday night, drive a couple of hours until bedtime, then have 5 or 6 hours kip before putting a new card in and setting off again fully refreshed. Now its daft o’clock starts in order to keep the digi tacho happy. That’s progress for you.
There’s 4 of us leaving for all points of l’Hexagone tonight. One with 4 tips starting in Marseille, then running up towards St. Tropez. He’s taken his truck home with him for the weekend (none of this “must park in operating centre” bollox over here) so don’t see him tonight.
Peter has his first tip in Lyon before heading for Perpignan, Girona and finally Toulouse. “Junior Boy” has his first trip outside Germany after 6 months in the firm. He has 3 tips: Argentat, Montpon-Ménestérol and Olonne-sur-Mer.
I’ve got 2 tips in Bordeaux, thence to Lorient and finally 3 around Rennes.
Peter sets off with junior boy in tow and they leave me on the flat but I finally show them my back doors in the bumpy bits around Wuppertal (take that Actros boys 
) and we run together to Köln where I head off for Aachen and they head for Lux.
Hit the services at Spy just shy of 4.5 hours and have a 9 off.
Set off again at 11.30 and run into Mons to fill up with cheap foreign diesel before crossing into France.
Plan A is to get to welshboy’s favorite routier at Vivonne on the N10 tonight.
I arrive at Charles de Gaulle just before 15.00 and debate whether to go right around the outside on the N104 (La Francilienne) or go through town. The radio is not reporting any hold ups and the matrix signs are all clear and as I haven’t been down this way for a while, I decide to go for a jolly around the Périphérique. However, as soon as I get past the point of no return the bloody matrix signs light up:
A1 > BP BOUCHON
A3 > BP BOUCHON
Bugger. So I plod on down the A3 and onto the Périphérique which runs OK for a while but then everything grinds to a halt.
I realise that I am not going to get to yon side of this heaving metropolis before I need a break so drastic action is called for.
Off at Porte de Bercy then out on the A4 to the N104 to the services at Berchères.
Have an hour long break (nous sommes en France 
) before setting off again just in time to hit the rush hour. The N104 is a pathetic little 2 lane dual carriageway that serves as a sort of outer ring road and snakes around the outskirts of Paris. It makes the M25 look like a free flowing super highway. 
It takes me 1.5 hours to crawl around to the N20 so any ideas of Vivonne or Poitiers (Plan B) have gone right out the window
The N20 down towards Étampes is no place for the timid car driver as hurtling juggernauts from France, the Iberian peninsula and the odd island monkey, all keen to make up lost time, barrel along on the limiter.
Plan C involves getting as far as possible tonight in order to be able to reach my first tip in one hit in the morning.
I park up at the services south of Tours after exactly 4½ hours. Make a spot of snap, then hit the sack.
After another 9 off I continue south on the A10 before leaving at Poitiers south picking up the N10. Arrive at my first tip in Bordeaux at about 10.30 and after a slight blip where the fork lift runs out of juice and has to be recharged, I am tipped, reloaded with empties and away just before 11.30
I have just enough driving time to make it to the routier where I arrive just before 12.
Have a spot of snap and an hour’s kip.
I’ve never been to my second tip before and as it is on the unit, I leave the drag at the routier to be on the safe side. Good call. Was as tight as a virgin’s undercarriage. 2 stillages off, 1 empty back on. 15 minutes. Job’s a good 'un.
After picking the drag up, I head for Lorient. These days trucks have to stick to the autoroute and go via Niort. Trucks are now banned on the back road from Saintes to Rochefort and north of La Rochelle on the N137.
Shame, as the boat jockeys use it a lot and meeting an oversized load coming the other way around a blind bend in the middle of a village was always interesting.
According to my sat nav, there is a routier just shy of Nantes but I won’t make it in my 9 hours driving time and am keen to save my 10 hour stints for Thursday and Friday.
I call it a day at the last services before Nantes. Have a shower, then return to the cab to heat up a tin of stuff, have a couple of premium German beers and listen to the footy on Five Live before bed.
After 11 off, I skirt around Nantes in the dark and boot up the N165 to Lorient.
I arrive at the spot at 08.10 and this Spaniard was already opened up and unloading.
I open up the side and go to put the coffee on as I imagine I am in for a bit of a wait.
The Spanish guy comes over and asks how much I have on. I tell him 4 stillages. He then rambles on in Spanish and I understand “dos horas”. Seems he has to completely tip, then reload with empties which he reckons will take about 2 hours. I give him my best Gallic shrug and tell him “no problem” and that I will wait.
He then wanders off to the forky and has a word. Upshot of this: me tipped and reloaded with empties inside 20 minutes. Handshakes and smiles all round and I’m off on my merry way again 
I will need a break before my next tip in Le Rheu just west of Rennes and reckon I will just be able to fit it in and get tipped before the statutory 1 hour French dinner break. Just a load of boxes to handball off here so in and out in 5 minutes. I love it when a plan comes together
A 20 minute drive sees me parked up outside the next customer at 12.10. Nothing doing until 13.00 of course, so I pull the curtains and have an hour’s kip
Another quick 4 stillage drop and swap and off to the last tip another 20 minutes down the road.
All done and dusted and fully loaded with empties at 14.45 Thursday afternoon. Time to go home
I use one of my 10 hour stints in order to reach the routier at Rouen where I arrive at about 19.45. The parking area is rammed but I find a spot and head off for a feast.
Starter (from the self service buffet), main course (steak and chips), sweet, followed by CHEESE and bread all washed down with copious amounts of red, bottles of which are dotted around the communal tables.
12.60€ the lot
I give junior boy a bell to see how he’s getting on. He’s on his way back and has been advised by Peter to go via Rouen and not via Paris. He is out of driving time so cannot make the routier but we agree to meet up in the morning at the services north of Rouen on the A28. He is having 9 off and me 11 so it all dovetails together nicely. After a wash and brush up and the obligatory morning coffee and croissant at the routier, I trundle off to meet him.
Over coffee he regales me with tales of 3.6m bridges, 3.5 tonne bridges and running out of driving time in an area full of dodgy geezers with rottweilers. Oh, and he hasn’t eaten properly for 2 days. Now where have I heard that before?
He follows me like a loyal puppy through northern France.
We stop to fill up fill up with cheap foreign diesel in Belgium and head back into the Fatherland where we hit the back of a queue near Neuss. I leave a gap to let him in front as we have to filter onto the A57 from the A46 and nobody behind me appears to want to let him in. He then promptly proceeds to head off onto the A52 into the north end of Düsseldorf while I continue up the A57 towards Krefeld. Ring, ring. “Have I gone the wrong way? I was following my sat nav”
I tell him to follow the signs for the airport to get him back onto the right road.
As it’s a Friday afternoon, all routes are stuffed.
The 57 grinds to a halt, so I cut across on the 44 to pick up the 52 which is also stuffed with burgers queuing to join the 3 which is solid all the way from Breitscheid to Oberhausen.
I decide to stay on the 52 up to Essen but the 40 from Essen through to Dortmund is also at a standstill for a vast amount of kms so I SURRENDER and pull onto a parking area. I munch my way through the remains of my provisions, read for a while, then hit the sack. No point in going anywhere until the traffic subsides.
I head off again 3 hours later. I still hit a couple of queues and arrive back at the yard with 10 hours 10 minutes driving time on the card.
So, 3000 klicks in 4 and a bit days. All legal apart from the Friday afternoon fiasco which has been duly noted on a printout.
I love my job
