A Spike, a Shell, Smells and Bells

It's been a good week for many reasons, not least that summer has got its act together at last.  And despite my usual craving for 'jobs up north' because they're the ones with greater distances, with more likelihood of being able to combine jobs, and hence with greater profits ... only once did I get beyond Watford Gap.

Monday started the week in good style, with two interesting jobs into East Anglia that I would have absolutely hated in bad weather.  The first was to a site just by the roadside near Thetford, where some electrical engineers were in need of an earth spike.  I had been told 'three miles out'; consequently I'd been expecting to find them three miles away from the by-pass.  Instead, what was meant was clearly three miles out of the town, and I was lucky to notice their characteristic orange generator as I sped past.  Fortunately there was a convenient gateway in which to turn round, and the delivery was made without further ado.

On then to Wisbech, with a wide variety of consumables for a Shell filling station.  It was one of those balmy afternoons when you can drive along the country roads paying little attention to where you're going until you get there.  With half my mind on SatNav and half on the mp3-player, I was only mildly curious why I was being led through all kinds of pretty fenland villages instead of straight up the A10 to the big roundabout on the edge of King's Lynn.  My reverie came to an abrupt halt when I stopped at a dead end, with the traffic of the A47 clearly visible on the other side of the field in front of me.

After finding my way 'round the block', I located my target, and drove around to the rear entrance.  Here the girls on duty had no knowledge of the consignment being on the way, but suggested that I start unloading the goods onto  the concrete footway outside the back door.  Soon the manager appeared, and insisted on checking every item of about five pages of detail ... and, of course, there was one thing missing!  We happily agreed that it must have been omitted from a sealed box from the outset, exchanged signatures to this effect, and I was on my way.

Tuesday's excitement came after three other jobs that were 'local', but only relatively so, and had taken me until early afternoon.  The pick-up was at a grand estate near Marlow, Bucks., but instead of delivery near home, it was for a residential address in Faversham, Kent.  Here the roads were named after English kings of the ninth to eleventh centuries although, judging from the age of the properties, this clearly wasn't a 21st-century quirk of someone in the planning department.  I supressed an urge to smile when the householder, amidst his expressions of gratitude, hoped that on this hot afternoon "the journey hasn't been too arduous for you!"

The weather has really been a delight, and with a decent fan in this new van, I've not been too unbearably hot.  That's not to say that the breeze outside hasn't provided welcome relief on occasions.  On Thursday, I enjoyed a fairly frequent job to West Bromwich, where we have to wait for our customer's goods to be processed and then bring them back.  There is a nearby Asda where it's pleasant to spend a couple of hours behind a mug of coffee or, if the time is right, enjoy a cooked midday meal instead of sandwiches.  When I emerged this week, a whiff of barbecue caught my nose as I strolled across the car park and, with the breeze gently diluting the sunshine on my bare arms and legs, I could almost imagine myself on holiday in France again.

For the most part, the rest of the week's toings and froings have been to places I've visited before, although in some cases I've not realised this until turning the final corner.  This afternoon I joined seven friends to ring the bells for a wedding - something I don't often do these days because of the vagaries of work demands.  For a while yesterday morning I was wondering how I could best tender my apologies for this one, after a gentle enquiry from the office whether or not I would be prepared to make a delivery last night in Aberdeen.  A second call about an hour later restored my equilibrium, as it was revealed that the job, delivery of a passport from an office in central London, wouldn't be happening.  It seemed that the passenger was flying at 6.0 last evening - well before anyone could drive there from London!  We presumed that arrangements were made for the passport to be flown there for collection on his departure.

Now, with a freshly-cleaned van at the ready, I'm wondering what next week will offer.