20th March '09: Grandpa suggests a jaunt to the southernmost glacier in Europe. 'It’s no good languishing in bed all morning,' he says, leaning nonchalantly against my bedroom door jamb. At a shade after 7am - on what is supposed to be a day off - my resplendent grandfather is hovering in the doorway, modelling smokin' hot underpants as though auditioning for a Tommy Hilfiger advertisement. Tactfully skimming over any further details, let us concentrate on today's events: For fifteen years now, Grandpa has waxed loquacious about the Gran Sasso, or “Great Rock”, and I’m incredibly keen to witness this marvel first-hand. It is, however, three hours' drive away. In Milan, the temperature was a glorious 22 degrees; at the Gran Sasso, the forecast is a chilly six. Sandals, even with socks in case it turns ... read more

17th March '09: Yesterday should have been uninteresting - simply a travel day across Germany and into the Czech Republic. But the police got us. No shoot-outs or roadblocks I’m afraid, just a gentle slap on the wrist and a manageable fine. No, I didn't get caught making tea while driving. Nor was I caught red-handed at the wheel with a trombone but no hands-free kit. Would you believe that the offence was speeding? - in a truck on a motorway? It's ridiculous. As you should all know by now, trucks are governed at 90km/h. The speed limit in the United Kingdom - if we could ever reach it - is a rapid 100km/h. That at least gives us something to aim for down hills. But in Germany... Absurdly, the speed limit here for trucks is ... read more

13th March '09: I haven’t told you what’s in the back of my lorry, have I? No, I realise you don’t care...but that’s not the point - it is all pertinent to a rounded rock 'n' roll education. Unlike Namibian’s 'load of crap in the back', I have “Rigging 2” (the second rigging truck), and a laminated sign to that effect. This sign inside in the trailer also reads “Barnaby” - so nobody needs to commit that unpardonable offence of calling me 'drive'. It’s my bete noire. Throughout my working life, I've endured the occasional proper day's work: pottering round the English countryside collecting farm apples, or delivering trolleys of chilled goods to Tesco, for example. Aside from the mind-numbing aspect of normal trucking, what really gets up my nose is warehouse personnel greeting me with: ... read more

11th March '09: What is it with the Japanese? It’s a standing joke that their necks support umpteen cameras, but one would hope that the actual pictures might be rather good? Nope. I'd plump for them being dire. And I base my obnoxious generalisation on today's events: Seven Japanese men are standing around the famous statue of Bremen’s town musicians and, one after another, posing next to it. When I say posing, I simply mean standing woodenly, unsmiling. Can you imagine going round to a slideshow in a Tokyo home? I’d rather just see the hotel receipt as proof of a city visit. Nearby, cabbies stand with thermos flasks beside their Audi and Mercedes taxis, wolfing down the ubiquitous bratwurst. Namibian and Little Dick make preparations to visit the U-boat museum, inviting me along. But I ... read more

7th March '09: Tachographs are a dashed nuisance. Namibian and I awoke yesterday after five hours in bed - separate beds, that is - faced with a dilemma. Either we go immediately, to reach our destination within a regulation “spread-over” period of fifteen hours; or we wait another four hours, to complete a nine-hour daily rest. These hard-and-fast rules just do not suit this industry; both options - in the name of safety regulations - leave us knackered. We choose the latter, dining on bacteria and a bread roll to eke out the time. But I totally forgot it was Friday. While eighteen AC/DC trucks trundled through the Ruhr Valley (the busiest part of Germany) before lunch, Namibian and I had snoozed. The knock-on effect was afternoon traffic. A lot of it. In fact, we arrived ... read more