Woke this morning to the mournful wail of a train passing close by. We ate a few pineapple cookies which they had bought the night before, and then left. Arrived at the depot and Steve told me to go out with a bloke called Pete to train.
We set off about 1 pm after loading up the truck with goodies and a few slabs of dry ice. It took us about 40 mins drive down the freeway before we arrived at his route (they say ‘rout’ as in woodwork). There he just turned on his jingle box and hazard flashers and chugged down the road in ‘D’ with his foot off the accelerator. Within seconds little brats appeared and jumped up and down, ran off, or ran towards the van depending on whether they had money or not. Pete’s van was right-hand-drive because it was an ex-PO van and they deliver mail to boxes at the side of the road, by truck.
He had become very adept at levering himself over the back of the seat to get to the freezer in the back. The day was a lot milder than it had been but still trade was (to me anyway) brisk. We had to stop a couple of times when it rained but the sun shone in between.
Pete was a longhair with a pigtail and cowboy hat, who was taking a year off from ‘school’ (i.e. university). At about 6pm we went into a Burger King for a meal. God knows what it was, breakfast, dinner, tea – I hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous day so I had a Whopper and chips and coffee. It was ready in seconds – on a tray but packed to take away. Poly cup with a plastic top for coffee; plastic stirring rod. Burger (about the size of a side-plate) wrapped in paper. Chips in a bag; sugar, salt and pepper also. Paper liner for tray and paper napkin. Once we had eaten we had to take our trays and tip everything into the bin and stack the tray. Incredible waste. The whole place was constructed of plastic, or so it seemed. Some of it was wood sprayed with paint to make it look plastic.
We did some more selling and knocked off about 9 pm to return to the depot. There Pete had to sort and count his takings, put them on a tray and hand them in. A clerk then worked out his commission and gave it to him. He went off and we English were left wondering what to do about a place to stay for the night. We had planned to sleep at the depot but a Welsh bloke called Shôn had arrived that day and we thought we could bunk in with him in his room. Only problem: finding his motel and room.
Cadged a lift off Mike, another driver, but he took so long returning from an errand that we gave up and trudged to Motel-land on the edge of town. There were several motels clustered together so we took it in turns to inquire about ‘an English guy’ but to no avail. No-one could tell us where he was staying. Decided to order a single at the Trava-Lore Motel and sleep 3-up. I got the room but when I got back to collect DB and John from the roadside I spotted the proprietor sitting outside her room. Obviously spying because she had just commented on how cold it was. Anyway, I went to the room and the others sneaked thru the foliage and managed to get to me without detection. The room was poky but enough for an overnight sleep. John and I shared the double bed and DB slept on cushions. Cost us $12 or $4 each.
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