Saturday 13 September 2008

Pull. Push.


So I started my real driving lessons at the start of last month. Took a while for it to be fully organised – I had been waiting since February to get behind the wheel and cause chaos to the streets of London; terrorising pedestrians and whatnot.

Luckily, my eagerness to learn how to drive as quickly as possible was kept very much in check by preparations on a small test track located on private land. That, amongst other things, gave me a fairly solid idea of what to expect when I headed out on to real roads with real traffic. Obviously, you can’t compare it to the real thing, as everyone else on this track was either a learner, or simply too hesitant to practice on side roads, so the element of danger was greatly diminished (or perhaps greatly increased, if you avow that learner drivers are potentially more hazardous than qualified drivers).

Not everyone wants to start driving the second they turn 17, mind you. Exceptions to the rule may be: teenagers who are put off by the sheer cost learning to drive imposes upon them; a disinterest in the use of non-public transportation; possession of a personal car, and 24-hour right to it is not a requisite for them because they don’t have far to travel, or they can nick lifts off others.

My car was beginning to look forlorn. It’s hungry for tarmac, you see. Probably has a bee in its bonnet too, or something of the sort. It’s an automatic, meaning the amount of effort I will have to expend driving it is greatly reduced from that of the comparable manual car. This is good, since insurance premiums hit the roof for people around my age. Anyway, the car itself is nice; it’s not too big, it’s not too small, it’s just right. Maybe that’s because it used to be owned by a blonde woman and three bears (Friends still influences after all these years).

I successfully negotiated the minor stepping stone referred to as the “Theory Test” a few days before the commencement of September without difficulty. In short, I never truly expected to fail; it was just a case of keeping calm, and putting in the answers I knew were correct. Following that was the slightly more thought-provoking exercise of identifying which were the hazards in the short film clips. Overall, I chastised myself for making a couple of rudimentary mistakes in the first half of the test, but a pass is a pass. And in the driving theory, it doesn’t matter by how much you pass; it only matters if you pass.

With the theory behind me, I look forward to an upcoming – yet undetermined – practical test. Boy, how I wish I could just take it tomorrow and pass straight away! I’m jealous of my friends that have passed already; one passed just before the resumption of school, and gave a few of us a drive down the road. I’m very proud of his achievement, especially because he had only been learning for 3 months. And from what I’ve seen of him, he’s very much a proficient driver.

No matter what, I totally enjoy driving! The factors of independence and liberation from reliance on the bus are imperative.

1 comment:

thew said...

i think that most people round our parts aren't as bothered about driving as people from other areas of the country because here we have free buses :). scummy free buses, but free buses nonetheless.