Day 1 - Edinburgh to Hull
So it was Sunday. The truck was loaded, I had all my paperwork, a stash of Euros and my passport. I rolled out the yard at 11.30am and started off down the A1 heading for Hull. Sadly didn’t make it…
At Purdy Lodge, on the A1 south of Berwick, I decided to pull in for a 15min break, toilet rest and coffee. As I pulled into the HGV parking area I saw two Millar International wagons. Having met Simon at Truckfest, I knew he worked for Millars and was pleased to find him in the shop purchasing coffee. He was kind enough to show me the best route around Paris on my map and I was on my way (thanks Si, that route round Paris worked a treat . 
).
A few days previously my boss had asked me to not fill up the diesel tank, but to wait till I got into Holland as the fuel is much cheaper over there. So leaving Edinburgh with a quater tank I though I might have enough. Around Newcastle I wasn’t so sure. I decided to keep an eye on the needle, and see how I went. An hour later things were getting serious, so I decided to pull in at Barton Park and put in 100 litres or so to keep me going till I got over the water. Unfotunatately (and I am very embarrassed about this) on a steep climb near Newton Aycliffe I ran out of diesel, 5 miles short of Barton 
It took 3.5 hours for recovery to arrive, bleed the system and get me rolling. Needless to say, I missed my boat. My boss booked me on the 5am boat out of Calais. So it was boot down, and drive down to the South coast. I arrived at 2.30am, just as my 15 hours were up. So it was tacho on break, head down and get a few hours kip before boarding. In Calais I drove out the port and stopped at the first services I came to and slept out the rest of my daily rest… absolutely shattered.
Day2 - Calais to Limoges
I got up around 11am and peeked out the curtains at a dull Monday morning in Northern France. Back on the road I was heading for Piscop, North of Paris, just off the A16, a couple of miles inside the N104 outer ring-road. There I was collecting the swimming pool we were installing. I arrived at around 4pm. By then I had got to grips with driving on the wrong side of the road and the previous days nightmare was forgotten and I had a new found confidence about me. Especially when I discovered I could actually communicate with the French fork-lift driver at the swimming pool company. I took a 45min break there before attempting Paris, which I had been dreading. My new confidence slipped considerably as I sat drinking a coffee, smoking a cig and studying the map tracing the route Simon had shown me.
Although it was 5.30pm the N104 round Paris was an unexpected easy run. A few sections were busy with traffic leaving Paris, but nothing like the M25 at rush hour. So as I got round to the South of Paris, my confidence was back.
Around 7pm I was onto the A10. I was hungry, and the wagon was thirsty, so I pulled into a service area for diesel and a decidedly mediocre dinner. Yep, you warned me about the food in these places, but I didn’t have time for messing about, so it was eat and run…
South of Orleans I jumped onto the A20 for Chateauroux and Limoges. When I was near Chateauroux I decided it was nearly time to call it a day. However as it was after 1am every service area I pulled into was full. This is where I discovered how inconsiderate the French are when it comes to parking. There was trucks abandoned everywhere. After the third attempt I managed to find myself a spot on the verge in one of the service areas, just as my alarm went off to alert me to the fact my 10hrs were up. There was just enough room to squeeze a truck through the gap I had left, but I thought to myself, “Why should I care, nobody else seems to give a toss whether they cause an obstruction.” So I pulled my mirrors in, drew the curtains and went to bed.
Day 3 - Limoges to Beziers
After a good nights sleep I awoke to a lovely sunny day. As I had done most of my driving after dark so far, I was looking forward to seeing a bit of scenery as I got further South. I was due to pick up my boss Richard, and Mark, one of the guys who works in the nursery, up at Carcassonne Airport at around 4 in the afternoon. I was at Limoges, which I reckoned was around 5.5hrs away. So it was boot down once more to try and get there in time. I pulled out of the service area at 11am and set off for Toulouse, where I would join the A61.
I wasn’t let down by the scenery. The Dordogne valley was lovely. No time to stop and admire the views or take photos, so I pressed on. I passed by Toulouse without a hitch and was soon approaching Carcassonne. I reached the nearest service area just as my 4.5hrs were up so I pulled in. My boss had called an hour earlier to say they had landed and I was to let him know when I was near. I was only 5 or so miles away so he asked where I was and they would get a taxi to me. No problem… or so I thought. The taxi driver only went and dropped them at the wrong one. After a few confused phone calls we managed to figure out I was at the services before the one I was at, and after 10mins of driving along the Autoroute I found them. Phew. Onwards to Bezier.
We fought our way through rush-hour traffic around Beziers and headed off into the vineyards to La Liquiere, a beautiful village set on a hill, nestled amongst the vineyards between Beziers and Bedarieaux. Sadly it was dark when we arrived, so I didn’t see much till the next day. Still, I made it.
Days 4, 5, 6, 7 & 8
These days were spent labouring in the garden of Richard’s family’s holiday home. Our mission: to install the swimming pool and landscape the rest of the garden with slabs and decking etc. Or at least to get as much done as we could. Richard was to return at a later date and finish the job off.
I was sent out a couple of times to get supplies. We needed 10 tons (in all) of sand and gravel and numerous bags of cement to make concrete and mortar. In France they don’t have ton bags like builders mercheants here do. Everything is sold loose. And as we all know you can’t load loose gravel into a curtain-sider with a shovel. So we took some of these ton bags along and after some confusion (my French is OK, but not great) we eventually managed to convince the guy these bags would hold a ton of materials and we were sorted.
Day 9 - Beziers to Paris
Heading home, thank goodness. I was tired from all the wheelbarrowing of rubble and concrete, so I was glad to be on the road again. I was to head up through France, through Belgium and into Holland. In Holland I needed to pick up as many pallets of Plant Trays as would fit ( i was taking ou Manitou and the digger we had used back with me), from Modiform in Leusden. Once again time was against me. I figured I would get to Paris In 9-10 hours and the following day would leave just enough time to get to Leusden, pick up and head across to Ijmuiden to get my boat home.
It took an hour and 15mins to get across to the A75 to head North. The road was pretty slow going through the villages and towns along the way. The drop down to Clermon-l’Herault was amazing. A climb up to a mountain pass followed by an incredible drop down into the next valley round dozens of switch-backs and long sweeping curves. I dropped down into 4h, stood on the exhaust brake and coasted down gently admiring the view and chuckling at the tippers struggling up the hill towards me. And then once on the A75 I was amazed once again by the climb up into the mountains. If only I had come down that way. The best views were in my mirrors. The Millau Bridge was a spectacle too. Wow, that must have been a ■■■■■ to build.
As predicted, I got to the South side of Paris at around 8.30pm, and pulled into the last service area before the ring-road having driven for 9hrs 20mins. I figured if I carried on I wouldn’t make the next services before my 10hrs were up so I stayed put. As it wasn’t too late I managed to get one of the few remaining parking bays and got my book out, opened a bottle of beer and relaxed.
Day 10 - Paris to Ijmuiden
I set off at 5.30 to beat the traffic round Paris and drove through the mist and drizzle onto the A1heading for Belgium. Everything was going well, time was tight, but I was on course. I hopped onto the A2 and then the A7 heading for Brussels. At the boder I stopped at the wee cafe for a break and went inside to get a Vignette. I have only done this once before, in Holland about 4 years ago. Then the guy at the filling station had been patient, spoke excellent English and he guided me through it. This time I filled in the wee ticket wrong and got nothing but abuse from a big, burly obnoxious French guy who had no interest in speaking English and had never heard of patience. So I walked out with gritted teeth, fighting the temptation to shove his vignette and my fuel card up his sweaty French … 
Back on the road I bounced my way along the badly surfaced Belgian autoroutes, past Antwerepen heading ever North to Utrecht. Here is where it all sarted going wrong. I had two maps. One of Europe and one of Holland. The one of Europe had Utrecht on a join between two pages and the scale was not the best for picking out junctions. The map of Holland was all in red on orange and yellow backgrounds and the writing was tiny. Now I’m colour blind which didn’t help and trying to read tiny writing and road/junction numbers whilst driving was a nightmare. Anyway, enough of the excuses, I ended up on the A2 heading South towards Eindhoven when I should have been on the A28 heading West out of Utrecht. By the time I had realised, turned round and got back on track I had lost 40mins out of an already tight schedule. However, I got to Modiform, rearranged my load ( we had left the Manitou over the back axles to balance out the digger against the headboard) and got loaded. I din’t get away from Modiform till after 4. My boat was due to sail at 6. I still had to contend with rush-hour traffic around Utrecht AND Amsterdam. Things weren’t looking good. A quick phone call to my boss who called DFDS to tell them I was running late. They said as long as I was there before 6 I was fine. Needless to say the A9 round Amsterdam was solid with traffic. I arrived at Ijmuiden docks at 10 past 6, with no driving time left and the prospect of 24hrs to wait till the next boat. Gutted. It was Valentines Day and I wasn’t going home to see my gorgeous girlfriend. 
Day 11
I spent the day wandering around Ijmuiden. There wasn’t much to see, but I had a day to relax and I wanted to see a bit of native Holland. Back at the truck I got a call from the office to say they couldn’t get me on the boat as it was full. So instead I had to go to Europoort to get the boat there. No problems there. The boat didn’t sail til 9 so I had stacks of time. Even with the rush hour traffic I made it down to Rotterdam in good time. Man the bridges are low on the A4. I found myself ducking when I drove under them - as if that was gonna make a difference. 
So I made it onto the boat and was finally on my way home. I wasn’t feeling particularly good (turned out it was the beginnings of a nasty stomach bug) so hit the sack early. Little did I know Simon was also on that boat. As I didn’t feel like beer I didn’t even venture into the bar, or else I probably would have seen him. We did meet up on the deck the following morning and we chatted on the CB on the way up the A1. Some of the pallets I had picked up in Holland were for one of our customers near Wishaw so I cut off the A1 at Scotch Corner after saying good-bye to Simon.
I finally got back to the nursery at 4.30pm. So glad to be back I was grinning from ear-to-ear. I had made it - just and was quite pleased with myself. Would I do it again? Probably, but at the moment I have no aspirations to do international work on a regular basis. The UK is big enough for me…
Check out the other post with the photos in it.
