Fleet Services has burnt down.

[Sir C]

Good. I hate Fleet Services. In or about 1983 I stopped there fr breakfast and, aghast to find no trucker's area available, had to slum it with the public and pay outrageous prices for the eggs and b. Shaking from the shock of the bill I took my fry up, tore open the little paper packet of salt, poured it all over the bone-crushingly expensive repast and tucked in.

Sweet n Low tastes nothing like salt. Even when you try really, really hard to convince yourself that it isn't too bad, it is.

[Burney]

Good. I hate Fleet Services. In or about 1983 I stopped there fr breakfast and, aghast to find no trucker's area available, had to slum it with the public and pay outrageous prices for the eggs and b. Shaking from the shock of the bill I took my fry up, tore open the little paper packet of salt, poured it all over the bone-crushingly expensive repast and tucked in.

Sweet n Low tastes nothing like salt. Even when you try really, really hard to convince yourself that it isn't too bad, it is.

Its sole virtue was that for a long time it was one of the few service stations that had a McDonald's, which meant a chap with a 10 O'Clock appointment in Winchester, say, could make an early start and get a life-giving Double S&E McM prior to completing his journey.

That is literally the sole good thing I have to say about the place. Although they did make one cross that stupid sky tunnel thing across the motorway to get to the McDonald's.

[Sir C]

Its sole virtue was that for a long time it was one of the few service stations that had a McDonald's, which meant a chap with a 10 O'Clock appointment in Winchester, say, could make an early start and get a life-giving Double S&E McM prior to completing his journey.

That is literally the sole good thing I have to say about the place. Although they did make one cross that stupid sky tunnel thing across the motorway to get to the McDonald's.

It had a mild 'gateway to the west' vibe about it; passing Fleet meant that the traffic would lighten and the road open out invitingly. A chap felt that now was the time to give her the gun and head off into the adventure that is 'Way From London'.

Of course I used to get exactly this feeling on those flyovers on the A12 when I was en route to Harwich, so my judgement isn't to be trusted.

Yes, back in the day, to get from here to Harwich or Felixstowe you had to go through the Blackwall Tunnel to the A12. Madness.

[Burney]

It had a mild 'gateway to the west' vibe about it; passing Fleet meant that the traffic would lighten and the road open out invitingly. A chap felt that now was the time to give her the gun and head off into the adventure that is 'Way From London'.

Of course I used to get exactly this feeling on those flyovers on the A12 when I was en route to Harwich, so my judgement isn't to be trusted.

Yes, back in the day, to get from here to Harwich or Felixstowe you had to go through the Blackwall Tunnel to the A12. Madness.

It felt like that at first, but then the road narrows to two lanes for long stretches, which rather spoils the effect.

Listen to us discussing roads and service stations like a couple of sales reps. :-(

[Sir C]

It felt like that at first, but then the road narrows to two lanes for long stretches, which rather spoils the effect.

Listen to us discussing roads and service stations like a couple of sales reps. :-(

The three years I spent driving full time were easily the best of my career. One was given a task - take this car to this place - after the completion of which one was freed from any further concerns or considerations. The job was done; there was no baggage, no aftermath, no worries. Most importantly, there was the open road and the radio for company. Joyful times.

The only tricky bits were the regular brushes with death at the hands of exhaustion or Warsaw Pact security forces, of course.

[Viva Prat Vegas]

Did you hitch hike to get back after the delivery ?

[Burney]

The three years I spent driving full time were easily the best of my career. One was given a task - take this car to this place - after the completion of which one was freed from any further concerns or considerations. The job was done; there was no baggage, no aftermath, no worries. Most importantly, there was the open road and the radio for company. Joyful times.

The only tricky bits were the regular brushes with death at the hands of exhaustion or Warsaw Pact security forces, of course.

I quite liked having to do long drives. It was the tedious business of actually having to talk to people at the end of them I could have done without.

[Ash]

The three years I spent driving full time were easily the best of my career. One was given a task - take this car to this place - after the completion of which one was freed from any further concerns or considerations.

Apart from getting home. Did you have those red number-plates that would be shown when hitching to prove you weren't an axe-wielding homicidal maniac? I used to be quite jealous of those in my hitching days, I must admit, as I was about to give up any hope of extraction from a roundabout on the M6 near Rugby and settle down to a night under the stars.

[Sir C]

Apart from getting home. Did you have those red number-plates that would be shown when hitching to prove you weren't an axe-wielding homicidal maniac? I used to be quite jealous of those in my hitching days, I must admit, as I was about to give up any hope of extraction from a roundabout on the M6 near Rugby and settle down to a night under the stars.

Yes. Trade plates pretty much gauranteed a lift from a lorry within moments of holding them out. I once got a lift from Newport docks directly to my front door. Mind you, long distance lorry drivers can be a very, very odd bunch. A Dutch driver once had me absolutely convinced that he was kidnapping me to give me a good búggering, as he absolutely refused to stop to let me out, until, for no reason at all, he pulled up on the A120 and demanded I leave. Middle of fúcking nowhere, it was.

[Sir C]

Did you hitch hike to get back after the delivery ?

Sure did. Combined with an Interrail pass I went all over the UK and Europe :cloud9:

[Ash]

Yes. Trade plates pretty much gauranteed a lift from a lorry within moments of holding them out. I once got a lift from Newport docks directly to my front door. Mind you, long distance lorry drivers can be a very, very odd bunch. A Dutch driver once had me absolutely convinced that he was kidnapping me to give me a good búggering, as he absolutely refused to stop to let me out, until, for no reason at all, he pulled up on the A120 and demanded I leave. Middle of fúcking nowhere, it was.

I was in the cab of a scouse lorry driver once who, as we neared my drop-off point outside Coventry, tried to persuade me to come to Liverpool with him for a 'game of pool'. I was happy to escape that one.

[Burney]

Yes. Trade plates pretty much gauranteed a lift from a lorry within moments of holding them out. I once got a lift from Newport docks directly to my front door. Mind you, long distance lorry drivers can be a very, very odd bunch. A Dutch driver once had me absolutely convinced that he was kidnapping me to give me a good búggering, as he absolutely refused to stop to let me out, until, for no reason at all, he pulled up on the A120 and demanded I leave. Middle of fúcking nowhere, it was.

Lorry drivers odd? Surely not? What could it be about this solitary, mind-numbing profession, whose tedium is only alleviated by bad food, speed, porn and ropey lorry park prostitutes, that would attract odd people?

[Burney]

I was in the cab of a scouse lorry driver once who, as we neared my drop-off point outside Coventry, tried to persuade me to come to Liverpool with him for a 'game of pool'. I was happy to escape that one.

Could you not have changed that to snooker so I could have made jokes about 'sinking the pink' and 'downing the brown', a? :-(

[Sir C]

I was in the cab of a scouse lorry driver once who, as we neared my drop-off point outside Coventry, tried to persuade me to come to Liverpool with him for a 'game of pool'. I was happy to escape that one.

:hehe: Sometimes they'd just talk. For hours. So starved of human company for days and days away from home, they'd just prattle on and on and on. This was not good for me, for trade plate drivers, unencumbered by tachographs and such silliness, will happily drive 20 hours a day, and the cab of a lorry is a great opportunity to grab the healing snooze. A dour Yorkshireman shouting about his sexual adventures on a recent nightstop outside Barnsley isn't that relaxing.

[Sir C]

Lorry drivers odd? Surely not? What could it be about this solitary, mind-numbing profession, whose tedium is only alleviated by bad food, speed, porn and ropey lorry park prostitutes, that would attract odd people?

You see, when you put it like that, I'd seriously consider taking that up.

Solitary? What could be finer?
Mind-numbing? Yes, please.
Bad food? You mean 'fried food', don't you?
Speed? No call for it now with compulsory rest periods.
Porn and skanky hookers? We all enjoy the occasional baser moment.

[Burney]

You see, when you put it like that, I'd seriously consider taking that up.

Solitary? What could be finer?
Mind-numbing? Yes, please.
Bad food? You mean 'fried food', don't you?
Speed? No call for it now with compulsory rest periods.
Porn and skanky hookers? We all enjoy the occasional baser moment.

You'd be murdering prostitutes in no time imo. Just to break the day up if nothing else.

[Viva Prat Vegas]

You'd be murdering prostitutes in no time imo. Just to break the day up if nothing else.

:music: If I had a hammer :music: