In the port of Harwich, people are visibly getting used to border controls, so the truckers wait patiently

When Wim de Vries drives his truck off the ferry in Harwich before 7 a.m. on Wednesday morning, he has a tight schedule. Pass passport control and customs as quickly as possible, and then on to his first delivery address. His truck is full of cuttings, house and garden plants intended for English growers and garden centers. A cargo that cannot be left in a dark hold for too long, so he must have everything delivered tomorrow. Normally that’s not a problem, but this time that plan might be thrown in the trash in an hour.

Since last week, the British have again been carrying out border controls on meat, dairy and plants from the European Union. They check whether the cargo matches the papers and whether it contains any diseases or vermin. The Dutch Food and Consumer Product Safety Authority (NVWA) also does the latter before leaving the Netherlands, but the British have had no interest in this since last week. De Vries (57) finds it incomprehensible. ‘We transport the same plants with the same forms, but suddenly they want to check us.’

Although officially all loads containing plants – as well as loads containing meat and live animals – must be checked, De Vries estimates the chance that he will soon have to open his truck at 50 percent. To avoid congestion, the British authorities are gradually introducing the new checks. When De Vries came to pick up a trailer here in the port of Harwich last Saturday that needed to be inspected, it became clear to him: ‘They didn’t really understand how much work it is. The warehouse is too small and there are not enough staff. While they had known for five years that this was coming.’

Wait four hours

He has been a truck driver for about thirty years, but De Vries has never experienced checks at the British border before. These were abolished with the introduction of the European internal market in 1993. The reintroduction of border controls has been postponed five times in recent years. Last week, more than four years after Brexit, the time had finally come.

A driver who is picked out for inspection can easily wait four hours. The entire truck must be empty and all cargo inspected. De Vries is down-to-earth about it. ‘These kinds of things are part of life, you have to learn to live with them.’ He brought a book, just in case. ‘The planning people are really having a hard time, I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes right now.’

This planning takes place in the heart of the Westland, at Van der Haas Transport in Kwintsheul in South Holland. At the conference table, planner Paul Breedveld explains what his past week looked like. ‘I receive up to 70 documents from England in one day for all my administration. With the 35 trucks transferring today, there will be more than 100.’ He does not yet know which of these will have to report to the port for inspection the following morning.

More checks

It makes it complicated to plan freight routes. “If you are checked, you can easily lose half a day, if not more,” says Breedveld. ‘Then you have to transfer half the load to another car to be able to unload everything on time. But at a certain point everyone reaches their maximum driving hours and everything just comes to a standstill.’

Breedveld is already noticing that there are more checks than the first days. ‘Now the boys still do it. But if things continue like this for a few weeks, I think they will say: I don’t have to go to England anymore, I will stay in the EU.’

De Vries will continue to drive to England anyway, he says on the way to the ferry in nearby Hoek van Holland. ‘The people are friendly and you go to places where most people would not drive a passenger car.’ He doesn’t mind driving on the left and the narrow roads. ‘That’s part of the charm.’

“I think this is one of the best things about the trip,” he says as he turns the truck around after passport control and the ferry on the quay becomes visible. A line of trucks drives into the hold one after the other. ‘On the boat and then eat together in the evening and talk about things.’

The new checks are also discussed in the truckers’ restaurant. Van der Haas’ five other drivers have no experience with it yet. They have heard things: a transport company would instruct its drivers to continue driving, even if they are on the list. It is unclear what consequences this entails. Other drivers would never be inspected to avoid empty supermarket shelves. It’s all impossible to confirm.

Administrative hassle

At breakfast the next morning, the truckers try to guess who is screwed today. In the queue for passport control, the redeeming message comes from Kwintsheul: De Vries is allowed to drive through, but one of his colleagues must report for inspection. The press is not welcome. Three and a half hours of waiting later, he is allowed to continue.

“There are growers here who voted for Brexit,” says De Vries as he drives his truck out of the port towards his first address in Badsey, West England. He can’t get his head around it. “They didn’t think it would have these consequences.”

De Vries wonders how long the British will maintain the controls. ‘Over time they realize this doesn’t work. It is far too much work and leads to delays and administrative hassle, also for them. This doesn’t help anyone.’