Carl Williams:
In the early seventies we were getting an increasing number of removals to Europe, and it is difficult to know how to deal with Customs unless you, yourself had some experience.
We had an enquiry from NATO to give an estimate to remove a British member of their staff who was based in Naples to move to NE England and we estimated the load to be about 600 cu ft and our price was accepted. It was the ideal opportunity of learning by going to Italy and carrying out the removal.
Phil Riley, who was then a porter was to accompany me and our route was set ferry Dover-Ostend into France, Switzerland into Italy and down to Naples.
We had three Leyland (BMC) 350 FG’s with 3.8 litre diesel engines and 750 cu ft fibreglass bodies by Marsden of Warrington. I chose to take the newest, CPT404L which was just about three months old at that time. For those of you who remember the FG’s had the threepenny bit cabs which in their larger form were mostly used as bread vans. The advantage these had for us was that under 3.5 ton gross was free from operator’s licence. At the time we also had two 3.5 GVW Transits with 650 Cu Ft Marsden Bodies and a Bedford CF equivalent making up our smaller vans we operated and the FG’s were certainly better than these, having a proper chassis and conventional springs, and strange for Leyland at that time were fairly reliable.We also had had larger fuel tanks fitted. On the downside the unladen weight was about 2.5 ton giving a load limit of just 1 ton, the cab was particularly uncomfortable (In fairness they were designed for urban deliveries not high mileage work), and finally they had a crash gearbox, when fitted with the larger engine.
We set off on a Monday morning, making it to Ostend (Via Dover) in good time and proceeded into France where we found somewhere to stay about a mile off the main road. Although I took French at school I was not very good and the inn where we stayed had no one speaking English. With my broken French we managed to get something to eat and a few drinks before going to bed. Next morning we made an early start. At one point Phil was able to tell me ‘See that house there, the third one down, we moved them in there’… At one customs post I managed, trying to get as close as possible the customs officer’s office, to bump his flag with the front corner of the luton.
I believe we were going to cross the St Gothard’s pass in Switzerland, I believe now it’s now been tunnelled but as we headed towards the summit the FG heated up and we were empty. We stopped for something to eat and let the engine cool down and fill up the radiator. THE PHOTO BELOW IS AT THIS POINT (If you enlarge you can just make out the van)
We headed on and our next stop was to stay overnight on the outskirts of Florence.
Next morning we carried on without stopping and approaching Naples we were starving. I saw a restaurant at the side of the road and we pulled in. They could only speak Italian and we managed to make signs to show we were hungry and wanted something to eat. We hadn’t a clue what was on the menu but were brought a plate of spaghetti which we ate thinking this was it, but to our delight it was followed by two massive steaks.
By some miracle and Phil’s wonderful map reading we arrived at the house. Kindly they welcomed us and gave us bunk beds to sleep in that night. We were up next morning to start to load.
One thing neither of us had anticipated was the heat. Also the chap we were moving was a collector of stones. By about 11am we were loaded, and what a load it was. With Phil’s skilful packing we managed to get everything on but the weight. It must have weighed about three ton. We were grossly over-loaded and we had the Alps to cross, and in a vehicle designed for urban deliveries. We decided to start out and not stop just buying drinks as we refuelled, and at seven o’clock at night we reached the bottom of our climb of four hours in second gear. The 3.8 litre diesel engine drove you sick with its continual drum drum noise, never the less we managed back again at 11 o’clock at night without overheating to where this photo was taken where we stayed overnight. Phil said ‘Thank heaven we are up here’ However I had to explain what goes up must come down and I had no brakes. They were not designed for this heavy a load.
Next morning we got up early and after breakfast we started our long journey. I held the van in second gear and slowly down we went. It took almost 4 hours but at least we were safe.
Approaching the French Customs’ we could see them pointing at us and laughing. ‘No ping this time’ the customs officer had said as he waved us through, obviously remembering me bumping his flag on the last time.
Our paperwork was made out in Italian, French and English and as well we had a letter addressed from NATO asking them to assist our journey.
Passing through France, once again we did not stop just getting sandwiches and soft drinks as we refuelled.
We travelled along their A1 Which led us to cross customs and travel into Ostend where Phil, from his previous journeys, assured me we would have a good night out? Especially as it was a Saturday night.
The customs post at that time between the France and Belgium had high towers at each side where they could see each other with a strip of no man’s land in between. The French customs let us through and when we went to the Belgium customs I was met with dismay. I could not understand what the customs officer was saying. He obviously didn’t speak English and with my broken French I could not understand him. After talks for a long time where he had made it obvious we could not cross.
Eventually in perfect English he told me that as our paperwork was not made out in Flemish and we could not speak Flemish we could not enter. In my ignorance I never knew there was such a language. I asked when I could see someone to discuss it and was told 9-00AM Monday morning
We were in no man’s land neither in France or Belgium, starving hungry and tired from the journey. There was nothing there not even water to drink, so I went back to the French side. I told him what was wrong and he phoned up his Belgium counter part. We could see him answer the phone and they argued like mad with one another. The French customs officer then decided he would let us back into France and suggested we could go to Dunkirk and catch the hovercraft. ‘Not with that ‘ I pointed to the van, which was far too high to drive onto a hovercraft. He immediately got back on the phone to the Belgium Customs Officer again and was shouting to him down the phone. All to no avail and our only option was go back into France and travel to Calais where we arrived at four in the morning. We waited for the ferry and I don’t know how Phil managed but I fell asleep with my head on the steering wheel.I had to reverse onto the ferry, with the sun bright and dazzling my eyes into what seemed ‘The black hole of Calcutta’ but the ferry staff guided me into place.
We had a good crossing and got something to eat only to find when I pulled off the ferry at Dover and started to drive on the left, the van was very unstable. We had packed to compensate for the camber of the road being right in Italy and it was leaning well over with the left camber.
Things got worse. The customs demanded the van was unloaded so they could inspect the contents.
I reached agreement that Phil would stay with the van at Dover and I rang back to Spennymoor and arranged for one of our large vans which was loaded for Dover to take a driver with him and they could tranship from one van onto the other whilst the customs watched and I returned to Spennymoor by train
In the end I suppose it had a fortunate ending as had I been daft enough to try to drive back in England I would no doubt have been stopped by the police and been prosecuted for overloading.
Perhaps if Phil or any of his family read this and ask him about it they’ll have one of the biggest laughs of their life, as I have done many times, as I look back but at the time it was not so funny.
Hello Carl
Great stories, as a youngster I always admired your innumerable bedford furniture vans going up and down the A1. At the time I thought it amazing how many people must be moving house!
Your trip to Italy reminds me of my first trip to Italy in the early seventies, being very green I parked up for the night in a layby just short of the Pass of Mt Cenis. Imagine my dismay when I started out the next morning, went around the first bend to be faced with a sign saying “Col Fermee”. It had closed for the winter 2 days earlier, so that meant a detour via The Mont Blanc Tunnel, which I haad been trying to avoid to save the toll. Still you learn from experience. At least I was not driving a BMC FG, I had the comfort and luxury of a 330 engined TK.
Peter