Shift Changeover

There comes a time in the courier life when, it seems, the Great Courier Above hears the fed-up wails of the mere 'available 24/7' erk that there have been too many early mornings.  GCA certainly heard mine this week.

It all began when I missed the second men's breakfast in three weeks, through the need to be in Royston for a 6.0am pick-up on Monday.  In the damp darkness of early morning, I tried Despatch, only to find it deserted and to be re-directed to Goods-in where, after a long cold wait, I was loaded with two heavy boxes, hastily sealed because they weren't ready before.  Off then to Coventry with these, and although I enjoyed a bacon-and-egg roll on the way off the industrial estate afterwards, my jumper didn't.  There are occasions when one ought to remember to specify 'make the egg hard, please - I want to eat it, not wear it!' ... sadly this wasn't one of the successful ones.  Once I'd returned, the best the rest of the day could offer was a delivery in Ely, described as 'local' because the day had been so slow.  This worked in my favour, though, because on the way back I was diverted to a customer's premises to load for a 10.0 am delivery the next day in Torquay. 

To bed early again, therefore, in order to be about in the wee small hours.  No cold wait on Tuesday, though.  I could set off to Torquay with no delay.  After a stop in Bristol for breakfast, I arrived at the department store promptly on the dot of 10.0, in bright sunshine.  There was then a short delay while the goods I'd brought were the subject of some deliberation.  The unit had been loaded with no packing or protection, and either by the motion of a sliding part during the journey, or as a result of being lifted out of the van, it had incurred slight damage.  Eventually, however, all was resolved and I set off on my homeward journey.  The back of the store where I had delivered is on a one-way street, and to get back onto the main road I found myself having to climb a nominal 20% incline with a tight corner at the top.  I sometimes dream about such experiences, but this has to be one of the first times I've encountered such a steep hill.  A quick look on Google Maps tells me that it must have been Braddons Hill West, but it doesn't look so steep on the screen!

The advantage - if so it be - of starting so early in the morning is that later in the day, before tiredness kicks in once more, there is time to do other things.  Having escaped the challenge issued by a phone call on the way home from Torquay, asking if I would like to go over to Kent to make a collection, I was back to the office by 4.0pm  I realised that this was too early to be allocated a job for the next day, and took advantage of a comfortable sofa in the crew room for a refreshing nap.  An hour or so later, I learned that there would not be an advance assignment for Wednesday, and went home.  I had determined at the beginning of the year that I ought to do something soon about the various small pensions that my past career has accumulated, in readiness for possible retirement, but had done nothing about it as yet.  A recent radio broadcast prompted activity on this matter, and having secured a likely source of help here, I spent my 'time for other things' on Tuesday evening entertaining an Independent Financial Adviser.

I thus awoke on Wednesday morning with my head full of finances, figures, and all the reading, research and decisions that I shall have to deal with over the holiday.  There was no time even to think of such things then for, before breakfast, came a call.  "Are you ready for work?"  'No chance,' I thought, 'it's only 7.30!'  "How soon," went on the controller, "can you pick up at [a nearby customer] for Sheffield?"  Wanting to seem helpful, I offered, "I can pick it up now, and then come back for breakfast ..."  As I had predicted, this was perfectly acceptable and, with breakfast completed, I rang the office to learn that there was nothing else going that way, and left for South Yorkshire.

This was the start of a 'changeover day'.  These are either very busy or the reverse, and effect the change from early mornings to late nights.  This is effected by either a slack day that leads into an afternoon job that takes all evening, or an early start that leads into an over-full day.  In this instance, the latter was the case for, as I returned from Sheffield, I was asked to go straight down to Stevenage and collect something for Basildon.  On the way to Basildon came another call, hinting that I would have time on the way back to call into Hertford and collect something for Chippenham.  I enquired if this were the Chippenham in Wiltshire.  "Yes," came the over-persuasive reply, "we did the same thing last night - it's not far."  Strangely, I didn't feel over-tired, and despite disagreeing with the 'not far' argument, I said I would.

When I collected the job, I recalled an occasion that I wrote about here some months ago.  The address where I was to deliver said 'Cabinet, Bumpers Lane, Chippenham.'  I smiled, and realised gratefully that, as a result of that earlier job, I now knew what was meant by 'Cabinet'.  When I arrived I rang the phone number I'd been given as requested on turning into the lane.  "Great," came the reply, "I'll switch on my hazards so you can see me."  I approached the flashing yellow lights, and pulled up at the side of the road beside the car flashing them.  By the time I had gathered my clipboard, the man had got out of his car and was standing by the door.  "I hope we've got the right thing this time," he said, "I've been here for three nights to get this thing to work."  I took it that he had been home in between these visits.  He was pleased with the two items I'd brought him, however, and gave me a cheery wave as I set off on my way home.  I found that it was by then so late that the Little Chef just down the road had closed, and I had to content myself with a snack from the nearby Shell station.  Once home, I was ready for bed; it was 11.25pm.  'Not far' be blowed!

When I'd got myself more or less onto an even keel on Thursday morning, I rang in about 9.0 to say I was ready for work.  The acknowledgement was quickly followed by an instruction.  "At 10.0, can you go over to [a Hitchin solicitor] to go to Luton.  That's that covered, and you'll be on the list for later."  I tidied up my desk and set off.  After delivering to Luton's Court House, I returned and called in from home.  Not long afterwards I was requested to go to a certain ward at Lister Hospital in Stevenage.  We often get sent there to collect specimens for analysis elsewhere.  What was unusual was the destination in this case, which was an organisation in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  Knowing that this was a 24-hour operation, the controller had no hesitation in getting me to make two deliveries in the Bedford area on my way north, and I arrived there at about 6.30pm.  The specimen was delivered according to the instructions on the (closed) door, and I turned for home, 243 miles away.  The venue for that night's meal was Washington Services, and with all the accumulated podcasts from the recent Test Match series in India to listen to, the journey home was a doddle.  I scarcely noticed the incessant rain outside, as the warm van was filled with sunny thoughts of leather and willow, centuries and leg-breaks.

Yesterday morning found me arriving home with an almost empty fuel tank and calling at the local 24-hour Esso station before settling down for bed about 12.45am.  After breakfast the desk claimed my attention and I caught up on two days' admin, post, e-mails and all the rest before declaring myself ready for work at 10.30.  I was immediately despatched to Houghton Regis to make a collection for a customer in Hitchin.  In keeping with the rest of the week, there was no respite after this, for I was sent once again to 'that' ward at Lister Hospital - this time for a more normal journey to Cambridge - and along with it a pair of drinks deliveries to a pub in St Ives and to a service station along the A1 near Stamford.

Today has seemed a little peculiar.  With one more working day to go before the Christmas break, it seems sensible to delay normal weekend chores until that is past, so in a way today has been the first day of the long holiday.  One or two unusual things have been attacked instead, and soon I will begin to attack the bizarre situation of a magazine arriving earlier this week before I'd even started reading the previous edition!