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The Rag TradeGuy A. Massey rides shot-gun to AthensIt was dusk on Wednesday evening when I arrived at the Dartford International Ferry Terminal (in the shadow of the Queen Elizabeth II Dartford bridge) to meet Steve Whittle, one of George Hector's top men. I was to accompany Steve on one of his regular 3-times-a-month runs down to Greece, which in itself was to be a new experience for me for, although I have tramped most of the roads in Europe, I had never been as far south as Greece. Steve was fully loaded and ready to roll with clothes, cosmetics and crisps for Marks and Spencer's Athens store, but while waiting for me, he was lying on his bunk checking his eye-lids for holes (i.e. sleeping). We introduced ourselves to each other, I threw my bed-roll and camera bag into the cab, (incidentally, the camera and bag were never to return to Britain having been 'purloined' while in the Piraeus bus terminal) and at 21:30 hrs, with the odometer reading 143310, we headed out; clockwise round the M25, joining the M20 at junction three and onwards towards the Channel Tunnel. Steve's current vehicle is a 420 hp, 4 x 2, N registered Renault Magnum in the red and white livery of G. M. Hector, although on this trip Steve was running with a hired TIP garment trailer rather than one of Hector's own. Within the industry, the Magnum is considered to be by far and away the finest truck Renault has ever made and there is a school of thought that suggests that, at the moment, it is the best long-distance truck available. When introduced it was a radical design with its huge distinctive front windscreen and a high cab roof-line almost level with the top of a standard trailer. It was the first truck to offer a completely flat floor thus allowing the driver easy access from one side of the cab to the other; a real benefit when collecting péage tickets with a right hand drive vehicle in Europe. Air-conditioning and a built-in fridge come as standard equipment. All this for the driver, plus still being able to stand upright in the cab. The cab, being totally air-sprung, employs an ingenious self-levelling system whereby, even if the vehicle is parked on uneven ground, the cab levels itself. Behind the front seats are the two standard full length bunk beds; the lower one just over 6' in length, the upper one, having the facility to be folded away, is slightly smaller. Mountains of storage space is available underneath the bottom bunk. Since its introduction the Magnum has proved to be very popular for long distance work, particularly in Europe where the French, unsurprisingly, are exceptionally loyal to them. Steve's Magnum was fitted with the French-built Renault engine rather than the larger 520 hp American Mack-built engine. "I have no problem with the 420; I find it quite satisfactory" maintains Steve. While wending our way down the M20 to the Channel Tunnel, Steve gave a brief outline of our route to Athens. "Once through the tunnel, we head along the E40 (A16) towards Bruges and Brussels before stopping for the night somewhere near the German border. On Thursday we cross in Germany and head towards Cologne before turning south on the E31 (A61). We by-pass Coblenz and Karlsruhe and continue on into Switzerland and through the St. Gotthard Pass tunnel into Italy. I'd like to get into Italy on Thursday evening, but we'll see how it goes. Then on Friday we have a leisurely run down Italy, passing Milan, Bologna and then down the coast road to Ancona for the 3 o'clock ferry to Patras in Greece on Saturday. Once in Patras its only about four hours to Athens." There was however one flaw in the whole master plan and that was the fact that Italy was going to have one of its numerous public holidays at the weekend. This meant an HGV driving ban after six o'clock on Friday evening. So it was absolutely imperative that we were in the Ancona ferry terminal before then, otherwise we wouldn't make the Saturday ferry and therefore wouldn't be able to make the Monday morning drop. The T Forms for Switzerland had been faxed down to the Ashford Euro-terminal, so it was just a matter of picking them up, but while we were there we did stop for a cup of tea. "Two drivers duck" said Steve on arrival at the Channel Tunnel ticket booth. Obviously, as regularly users of Le Shuttle, Hector's drivers use a Channel Tunnel credit card thus avoiding fussing about paying for a ticket. Having stopped for Steve's 'duty-free B & H plus free bottle of red plonk', we passed through French passport control. It still grates me that as fully-fledged members of the European Union, which purports to supports the free movement of goods and personnel, we still have to show our passports to French Customs, not before we are allowed into France, but before we are allowed to leave England! The merits of the Channel Tunnel have been discussed almost to the point of boredom and there is nothing more that I can add other than the fact that it is well established now and it continues to attract new users while at the same time creating a loyal and devoted client-base. It is also contributing in no small way to the cross-channel price-war currently being waged between the Channel Tunnel and the ferry operators. How long this will continue is an open question, but I suggest not for much longer. For a new and first-time user the Channel-Tunnel is an interesting experience and one has to marvel (as I always do) at the feat of engineering that made it possible, but after that, it is no more exciting than reading tacho cards. Access to the trains is easy and should present no problems to a competent driver. Once parked on the train, drivers step through the side door of the carriage to a waiting bus to be taken to the front of the train where, in order to compete with the ferries, they are offered a complimentary airline-style meal. We left England at 00:23 hrs, arrived in France at 01:00 hrs, joined the E40 (A16 to Brussels), crossed the border into Belgium at 01:55 hrs and continued driving until around 03:30 hrs. We knew Thursday was going to be a long drag of a day, as we had to cover the miles down through Germany and Switzerland so, at quarter to eight after Steve had made a cup of tea on his Primus stove, we kicked off. The weather was already playing around with the idea of raining, but it wasn't long before it finally made up its mind and started to rain in earnest. It then just didn't know when to stop. Just before 10:00 hrs and a few miles west of Cologne, with the weather still chucking it down with rain and the spray going everywhere reducing visibility to almost nothing, we turned off the E40 and joined the E31 (A61) south. Steve tuned into BFBS (British Forces Broadcasting Services) on 96.5 FM and begun to get a little philosophical. The trouble is that in Germany, a country that has never really like the HGV anyway, there is an HGV overtaking ban on the Autobahns between 09:00 hrs and 19:00 hrs. "I don't know why we pay road tax" Steve moaned "Its just like driving on a single carriageway road". We continued down through Germany, mile after mile of pouring rain and spray, stopping only for a very quick lunch south of Coblenz where the E31 crosses the Mosel valley and to change drivers every so often to keep the hours right. I have always been a fan of the Renault Magnum, loving its roomy cab and high driving position. Although I have driven Magnums with the semi-automatic 9 speed TBV (a very clever box of tricks that once 'drive' has been selected, changes gear up or down, according to the engine revs, at the dip of the clutch) this was the first time I had driven one with the standard stick-shift box, but I can report that it was very easy to drive and the 420 hp engine seemed to have all the powered needed for this type of work. As with all exhaust brakes, the Magnum's was not as effective as I would have liked it to be but this is no reflection on Renault. We tramped on down the E31, joining the E35 and by-passing Karlsruhe and Freiburg. Finally, having driven so far south, the rain gave up and by four o'clock the sun was out it was slightly warmer. We swapped drivers yet again at the Swiss border. Steve showed the passports and T Forms and, with me driving and the tacho reading 144319, we crossed into Switzerland at Basel at exactly 18:00 hrs on Thursday. If Germany doesn't like the HGV, then Switzerland doesn't like the internal combustion engine. It is this fact that is one of the biggest stumbling blocks to Switzerland joining the E.U. It doesn't want a lot of E.U. freight traffic crossing its country and polluting its precious atmosphere. Every time I go through Switzerland I think the country is more like a model than a real living country. There's never any litter lying around; all the grass along the verges is cut to within a millimetre of its life; there's never any scrap farm machinery lying around, (it's all put away in its place) and the landscape is more like something you would see on a very expensive model railway set. But don't mis-understand me, its a lovely country. I like its clean, clear, fresh air as much as its good wide auto-routes. I'm not condemning Switzerland, only marvelling at it. Steve knew that the border out of Switzerland and into Italy closed at 20:00 hrs local time so, in order to be through there before then, we really had to crack on; no stopping for breaks other than to change drivers. The Swiss alpine scenery is a real picture ranging from the high mountains, heavily wooded up to the tree line, to the deep ravines with crystal clear rushing waters. We stayed on the E35 (N2) all through the country; by-passing Lucerne, and then going through the Seelisberg Tunnel, followed by the 17 km long St Gotthard tunnel before dropping down to Lugano and the border at Como. We arrived at the border-park, with the tacho reading 144615 (across Switzerland is therefore 296 kms, 183.52 miles) at 21:50 hrs and literally ran down to the office with the paper-work; thrust it at the official there who promptly thrust it back saying there was a problem. Steve sorted it out, handed it back and was awarded the all-important stamp. Back to the Magnum we ran, started it, in gear, down to the barrier and ..... through! It was like being let out of prison, we were out of Switzerland. The trouble was that we weren't actually in Italy yet. Slowly but surely we crept our way forward at the end of the queue of vehicles desperately trying to get into Italy. Then we weren't moving any more and the sad realisation began to dawn on us. Although we were out of Switzerland, we certainly weren't in Italy. We were stuck in no-man's land. We could move neither backwards or forwards. So near but yet so far. We had given it our best shot and failed. We then said that if we hadn't stopped for lunch or our pit stops (driver change-overs) had been a bit slicker we could have saved five or ten minutes and made it. But it wasn't to be; we were stuck in no-man's land and there was nothing we could do about it except make the best of a bad job. It's well known that 'an Army marches on its stomach' so, just because we were stuck in no-man's land, it was no reason for us to go without our evening meal. Steve set up his trusty Primus stove and set about making 'camion stew', a delicacy, known only to long distance international freight drivers and comprising of tined meat, tined potatoes and tined carrots all washed down by the free bottle of red plonk. From Dartford to the Swiss - Italian border Steve had driven for 8 hours 45 minutes and I had driven for 7 hours 10 minutes and we had covered 1305 kms (809 miles). As the Italian border opens at 05:00 hrs, Steve set the first alarm for 04:30 hrs with the second due to go off ten minutes later. Dawn was just beginning to break, and there was still a mist about as we finally passed into Italy a little after five o'clock. "Its going to be a real scorcher today, matey!" Steve pronounced in his best weather-forecaster's voice. We continued down the E35 (A9) hitting the Milan ring-road at about six o'clock and by 06:15 hrs the outside temperature had risen to 20ºC. Staying on the E35 (A1) we passed Piacenza, Parma and Modena and Steve said "I usually listen to 103.3 FM, the autoroute news. Although it's all in Italian, they play English records and after a while you can understand the traffic reports or at least get the general drift of what they are saying". By 08:45 hrs we had got caught up with the heavy, rush-hour commuter traffic around Bologna and the outside temperature was now up to 23ºC. "Its worth noting" Steve said "that Italy is a country where a flash means 'I'm coming through' not 'go ahead'". Having spent last night in close proximity with each other and having only eaten 'camion stew', Steve decided we would stop at the Esso Bevano Services for a shower and breakfast. And very welcome and good they were too! At Bologna the E35 (A1) turns south and heads for Florence so we joined the E45 (A14) to Rimini before turning south on the SS (Super Strada)16, the coast road to Ancona before arriving at the port at 14:30 hrs with a odometer now reading 145130. Because the dreaded driving ban was due to come in force in an hour and a half, every driver on the road was descending on the port from all directions. Add to this all the freight traffic still pouring into Ancona from Greece, (and being reluctant to set out, only to have to stop again for the week-end), and one begins to see that the Port of Ancona was absolutely chock-a-block with international hauliers. Chaos doesn't really adequately describe it. Mayhem might be better, but Steve did manage to find a place to park. By now he had met up with Roy Chatten-Berry, another of Hector's drivers and after a bit of careful manoeuvring and shunting around Roy and Steve managed to get their trailers back to back for added security. Although the ferry to Patras wasn't due to leave until 3 o'clock, Steve and I were up early on Saturday morning. It was already hot and, having more time to spare than on previous mornings, Steve volunteered to cook us and Roy a full English breakfast; bacon, eggs and beans plus tea of course. A little after one o'clock the ferry personnel, in their sparkling white dress uniforms and matching white shoes, started to load our ferry, the F/B Aretousa. The Greek ferries aren't ro-ro in quite the same way that the Channel ferries are, whereby you drive on one end and drive off the other. What happens here is that you either drive on and reverse off or reverse on and drive off. The other difference is that everyone and everything loads via the same rear loading ramp. The ferry personnel make a valiant attempt to try and keep order, with plenty of whistle-blowing, hand-waving and shouting, but nobody seems to pay any attention; it's every man for himself on the loading ramp and don't spare the women and children. This means that tourists and other foot passengers are wandering up the ramp, hauling their luggage with them, while the cars, motorcycles and lorries, also loading at the same time, try to avoid running them over. What you can say about the Greeks is that they know how to load a ferry. If you want to keep your mirrors, the first thing you do is pull them in and let the loading crew guide you in. Having been parked, you wouldn't want to be over-weight either, otherwise you would never be able to slide down between the lorries to get off the car deck, so tightly parked are they. Make no mistake, the 177 metre F/B Aretousa is like a five star hotel and it was a big thrill to spend 24 hours on her. Carrying 1500 passengers and with 500 berths, the whole vessel is air-conditioned and carpeted throughout with restaurants, bars and a cinema. Steve and I drew the short straw and had to share a 4-berth in-board cabin with Roy but, after having a shower in the en-suite bathroom, we all made our way up to the top deck to enjoy a well-earned beer. Needless to say the Germans had taken all the deck-chairs by the time we got there but we sat on a bench next to the swimming pool and watched the scantily-clad girls in their bikinis. While drinking a beer Steve suddenly said "Cheers George, thanks for the good life". We then toasted George Hector, much to the amusement of the Greek nymphs. About half an hour out of Patras on Sunday afternoon the outside temperature started to rise giving us a foretaste as what Greece would be like. But nothing prepares you for the sheer blast of heat that hits you as the unloading ramp begins to drop having arrived in Patras. Unloading is just like loading; its every man for himself but, as being almost the last on meant being first off, we were well on our way before the scrum really started. We took the new dock-spur road out of the port and, before joining the E65 to Corinth, stopped to fill-up with diesel costing 149.9 drachmas per litre (41.75p/litre, £189.5/gallon). "The Magnum returns between 8.5 and 9.0 to the gallon so, with both tanks full, I can run for about 3000 miles" Steve said. After going through the first toll (1000 drachmas) we were on our way with the breathtaking views of the Gulf of Corinth to our left and the olive groves to our right. It was a good thing the air-con was full on. Just before crossing the Corinth canal we stopped for a snack of 'dead dog on stick'; a form of pork kebab. Although a new dual-carriageway by-passing Corinith is being built with E.U. money, presently crossing the canal is still via the old Bailey bridge the British army installed many years ago. The other side of the canal, and through the second toll, the E94 spreads out into an excellent three lane trunk-road with the even more spectacular views of the sparkling blue waters of the Saronic Gulf in the Aegean Sea off to the right. "Just look at that view" Steve said "It's certainly miles better than delivering to Tesco on a wet Wednesday in March". Coming into the outskirts of Athens, Steve parked up for the night at the Euro-terminal truck-stop at Aspropygros. Steve's Monday morning drop was scheduled for nine o'clock so, as there is an HGV ban in Athens after 07:00 hrs, the alarms were set for 04:30 hrs and 04:40 hrs respectively. Although it was still dark when we hit the road, there was still a fair amount of traffic about, however, there was also a very pleasant cool breeze blowing. It was 05:50 hrs and already 25ºC when we passed the Acropolis and began to head south, through Glyfada before turning east and driving up into the country to Koropi for the tip. We arrived there, with the tacho reading 145397, an hour early, therefore had time for a cup of tea and to reflect on the journey down from Dartford. At 2087 kms we had covered a smidgen under 1300 miles in 106 hours, but bear in mind, 24 of those were spent on the ferry and another 22½ hours were spent in Ancona. It was no surprise that the Magnum hadn't missed a beat on the entire journey and had done all that had been asked of it; Steve and I had got on well together and enjoyed ourselves; we were on time for the drop so, all in all, a very successful trip all round and one I would be happy to repeat. © Copyright Guy Massey Download Word Document Return to Home Page |
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