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. Continue reading