Breaking point

My career as a driver at Westlands Farm was a short lived one.

Less than 48 hours infact, as my first solo drive from Ford to Westlands didn’t go as planned.

Graham initially earmarked me as the man who would transfer trays and berries between farms and make the daily drive to Arundel. Having learned the ropes on the first day, it should have been straightforward from there.

But he and Ryan quickly came to the conclusion I wasn’t suited for the role. Maybe it was because I nearly reversed into one of the greenhouses at Redhill, or drove too closely to a wall coming into Bishop's Waltham, smashing the passenger side mirror in the process.

And then there was a fraught journey from Ford to Westlands with several pallets of fruit onboard. Turns out I didn’t tie the rope around the trays tightly enough, so several slipped and went down the side after I clipped the roundabout in Bishop’s Waltham.

And I’ve just remembered that I also mixed up several trays of second class strawberries with the good stuff, which complicated matters back at the packhouse.

It was all a bit disheartening as I’ve never had an accident before and am the proud holder of a clean driving licence. But needless to say Graham and Ryan decided against me making a solo drive to Yapton, and I soon found myself restricted to the packhouse and the Bulgarian chatter of Madalina, Iva and Gulyhan.

I did offer to quit after breaking the mirror, but Graham was quick to reject it. These things happen and I wasn’t the first, nor will be the last, farm worker to have a driving accident.

In my defence all the cars I have owned in my relatively short driving career have been hatchbacks. Yes, I’ve hired the occasional van but I’ve never got behind the wheel of a saloon car, 4x4 or anything larger than a Focus. So perhaps going from driving an Ibiza to a refrigerated Bedford was a step too far, too soon. Guess I can cross delivery driver off my “possible future jobs” list if I never return to journalism.