Bin Men

 

The Biffa bin men (or 'dust' men, if you like) are out in force today. They are never called 'garbage men', here. That would not be proper, I think. I have seen them at their work many times, but only just now became aware of the sign on the front of their truck: "Caution. Operatives At Work". They are unbelievably hard at it. The only complaint I might have is that there don't seem to be any bin (or 'dust') women anywhere. Have you seen one? I suppose women have enough to do with food before it becomes garbage that they don't like to see it in such a tragic state.

It is extremely important to be aware of when the bin men are coming, because the streets are so narrow that you might become squished. They would never want to squish you, but there are enough visiting tourists now (dare I mention Americans?) that safety around those trucks is a scary problem. The other day I was at the busiest intersection in town, the one near The Sloop, the Post Office, Whistlefish, and the building that played an important part in a Rosamunde Pilcher novel. In the Pilcher novel, The Sloop was renamed The Sliding Tackle (isn't that a great fishing town's pub's name??), and the building I am referring to, in the novel, was Warren's grocery. As far as I know, it never really was a grocery, but I do know that it used to be the Moomaid Ice Cream parlor, and very popular it was. 

I might as well tell you, the owner of the Moomaid building decided in recent months to do something else with his building besides serve tourists their ice creams from it. He thinks he wants to serve them Tapas now. So the Moomaid people had to go, and they have taken themselves down near the Guildhall, much to the confusion of the Americans. It takes at least a week to find all the things that have moved, and this is very disorienting.

Anyway, I was at that very busy intersection when I saw the red Biffa bin truck backing up. It was fascinating because there were taxis, white transit vans and baffled other drivers in front of and behind him. And, if I may be honest, on either side. But he zipped backwards without scratching or squishing any of us. I couldn't understand how, and as I looked at the Biffa driver, I said so. 

"How did you DO that?"

He smiled broadly and shouted, "I'm only the front driver, Madam. I've got a driver in the back too. He takes care of his business, and I take care of mine!" Other people heard this explanation, and were amazed. I believe fire trucks have more than one driver, but it's the first time I've heard of it in a bin truck.

One more key ingredient to the bin men here is that they are highly respected. With the amount of people sort of crammed into a small space around here, rubbish can become a horrendous problem. You should see all the directives we receive from the cottage management companies, complicated regulations that must be adhered to, or 'a fee' will be charged. Believe me, 'a fee' is the last thing I (or my husband) wants to pay.  On bin days these men come swooping in and save the day for us, taking all that nasty stuff away so the visitors for next week won't know a thing about it and can start all tidy. We love the bin men. 

The town of St Ives operates like clockwork, smooth as silk, as long as its visitors read the directives. If they don't, I may as well tell you right now that those Biffa men are buff, and I wouldn't mess with them.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady