After reading a blog post written by the lovely Heather earlier today, regarding her driving test, it got me thinking back to mine. So many moons ago, I was a very excited 17 year old who wanted freedom. The thought of freedom and my super competitive edge meant I passed my test first time – after spending a rather enjoyable 32 minutes travelling around my home town talking to my instructor about attending university.
He had mentioned that most people like to remain silent but he was more than happy to engage in conversation. I hate sitting in silence and either have to talk to passengers or listen to my music… at a loud volume.
When I suggested giving Jenny a lift to the Blog On conference at the Manchester MOSI last weekend I knew we would be literally taking our lives in our own hands. My Dad was set to drive us in early… in a French car… on British roads. Now, my Dad isn’t the greatest driver at the best of times and I am surprised Jenny has not submitted whiplash injury compensation as yet – but we did make it in one piece and could carry on and enjoy our day. Though it did mean a few sneaky glasses of wine to steady our nerves once settled.
With a long journey, venturing into South Wales territory over the weekend (I had been reminded to have £6.20 ready for crossing the bridge!) my lovely, local mechanic who always looks after me in my hour of need suggested popping in so they could check all the oil and water levels etc beforehand. According to him my car is running like a dream and I am looking forward to getting her on the motorway again and opening her up… the recent new tyres and brake pads and discs may come in handy.
Does the fact I passed my test first time make me a better driver? Not at all, but it does mean you may get to your destination a little quicker in my car, than my Dad’s!!