The Trade Plate Maverick. It begins…

Intro:   This is my six month journey into a subculture most of us don’t even know about. The subculture of trade plate drivers - nomads who trawl the country dropping off cars, getting buses and trains, walking a lot in the rain and picking up another car for delivery somewhere else and staying in dicey hotels.   You can identify a trade plate driver quite easily. They have rucksacks slung over one shoulder with two number plates (trade plates) sticking out the top. You will see them at bus stops and train station platforms looking pensive as they wait for transportation into the future.   The future is a never ending relay of picking up cars and vans all over the country and taking them somewhere else. And then getting buses and trains and repeating the process. Day after day. If you like travelling …     Here we go... The Trade Plate Maverick stands at the bus stop and stares into the distance. He locks his foe with an icey stare. His foe is the future and this is his moment. Hands hanging loosely by his side he flexes his fingers, breathes slowly and stares. Waiting. Ready. Then, the machine beeps. Without seeming to move, the machine is there in his hand. It’s over in a flash… ‘You’re going to Thetford’… Life from a window. Trade plater street style… This could just have easily been called trade plate wanker or trade plate virgin, or trade plate loser. Something like that. But trade plate maverick sounds better. Plus, I won’t be a trade plate virgin for long and it remains to be seen if I end up being a trade plate wanker or loser. There will probably be moments, periods even when I am one or the other or both. But for now it’s Trade Plate Maverick - Sounds like we’re starting off on a positive note. Sounds more like a threat than a promise… I’m a journalist, editor and publisher. I’ve done stuff that you have probably heard of and now I have three big projects in development but none of them are dishing out any imminent cash. Interest rates are going through the roof and a bit of cheese costs twenty quid. Mortgages must be paid, food acquired, some bonds severed and others made. (Sorry I went a bit Burning Sky by The Jam there). So, I might as well do something. Make some cash and have some adventures. Get out there. There could even be a book in it… Next: Training Day with Uncle Jake…