Many moons back in my early 20’s I was the unlucky driver from York to Plymouth, to catch a ferry, in a RAF 12 seat LDV on a hot July day With 8 others and all their kit for a week’s adventurous training…
We got to hotel in Plymouth after 8 hours and just squeaked under the barrier for the underground car park….I had my concerns but we got under the ‘barrier’….just.
The car park was strange as you entered at the lowest level and had to exit on level 3. My colleagues jumped out with their kit and I headed toward the ramp to the next level…. I was starting to sweat as there was no airflow or aircon.
It was TIGHT! I could hear scrapes as I went up the ramp, but nothing too bad, but stress levels went up. Same on the next ramp….I wanted out by now.
Then on level 3 I saw the real problem: a big box-section venting duct between me and freedom.
By now I’m sweating like a gunner in a spelling test. No way am I reversing this 12 seater down. So I take a good run at it foot flat down.
A steel duct is remarkably strong. The van slammed to a halt. No matter, I’ll have another go. By now red mist had descended and I was desperate for fresh air.
After 3 tries, I gave up. Left the van where it was and found my colleagues getting stuck in at the bar. One kindly came to guide me to reverse down the ramps.
I managed to get out of that hell hole and park round the corner. The roof was trashed but I didn’t mention it until we were oversees! I also refused to drive for the remainder of the week.
I managed to attribute the blame to the barrier height, but in reality it was a hinged up and down job that wasn’t intended to denote the height restriction.
I learnt about vans, height clearance and loads from that. And jack ****s who let you drive 8 hours without helping out!