Oh dear, it has been a while hasn't it? Two months into the year and only one blog. Terrible.
However, I am sticking with the theme of transportation and moving from bikes to cars. That's right, I'm learning to drive.
The aim is to be roadworthy by the end of the year (preferably September), and that seems like a long time and a small fortune on driving lessons. However I think, considering it's me and I'm hardly the most confident road user, too many lessons are better than not quite enough. My main problems seem to be realising how wide the car and the road are. I'm so used to only navigating my midget frame through the world that I don't trust at all that a car will fit through any gap narrower than the full road. Oncoming buses are not good for my nerves.
Neither are the pedestrians. Especially pram pushing pedestrians who walk out into the road without looking. It's like they have a death wish for their babies.
On the bright side, once I've mastered the art of the near miss, I'll be so London savvy I will be able to drive anywhere.
You'll be pleased to know that it's all going well. Yesterday I zoomed along at a healthy national speed limit pace, I skirted the M25, I took on several roundabouts, including the one that I once navigated my mum around the wrong way (wrong lane not anticlockwise- I'm not that stupid). I told her to follow a brown car that didn't exist and gave entirely useless information like "that way!"
Maybe I did freak out on one roundabout. It was all wrong. I tried to start in forth gear, forgot how to steer and lost the clutch in one fell swoop. Kevin, my instructor (highly recommended) pretty much had to drive me out of it from the passenger seat.
I don't know what came over me, except that it sounded like a feeble whimper. I can only assume I was briefly possessed.
My driving career did not start in a very promising manner. I had a couple of lessons when I was 17 but all I remember about them was putting the visor down with both hands as I approached a roundabout. That instructor quit soon after, oddly, although I'm sure I wasn't the real cause.
And then there is the volvo-gate for which I would like to issue a public apology. It was during a road trip to Scotland that my friend offered me a tiny driving lesson. Her parents' car, which we had borrowed was automatic so it was a go/stop kind of affair. Being the cautious person I am, I initially refused the lap of the car park, but my excitement won out and five minutes later I had successfully driven in a circle and arrived back in the parking space. Hurrah!
Then I had a second go. And for some reason, as I was pulling into the space a second time, my friend obviously thought I wasn't stopping quickly enough. Probably she was right but I was basically just rolling into the spot. So when she said "and stop...Stop!" I panicked and put my foot on the brake.
Except that it wasn't the brake.
Duel control would have been very useful in this situation, however the car did bump into the wall and the number plate came off. I'm assured this was pretty much the extent of the damage but at the time I was convinced it was awful and I was going to have to buy a new car.
To add insult to injury, the other friend on the road trip was filming the whole thing: Jess's first driving lesson. So somewhere, hopefully never to be seen, is footage of the whole sorry fiasco.
Friend's lovely parents only recently found out what really happened. Friend told them she had done it when a lonely sheep had wandered out into the road. Naturally.
So I'm very sorry about that and I dedicate this blog to you both. I promise next time I crash a car it will not be yours, and I will be fully licensed and insured. I love you. (Too far?)
But now it's going well. Kevin actually says I'm above average, which I suspect may be to bolster my confidence, but I choose to believe him. It certainly helps that I now know which pedal is stop and which is go.
However, I am sticking with the theme of transportation and moving from bikes to cars. That's right, I'm learning to drive.
The aim is to be roadworthy by the end of the year (preferably September), and that seems like a long time and a small fortune on driving lessons. However I think, considering it's me and I'm hardly the most confident road user, too many lessons are better than not quite enough. My main problems seem to be realising how wide the car and the road are. I'm so used to only navigating my midget frame through the world that I don't trust at all that a car will fit through any gap narrower than the full road. Oncoming buses are not good for my nerves.
Neither are the pedestrians. Especially pram pushing pedestrians who walk out into the road without looking. It's like they have a death wish for their babies.
On the bright side, once I've mastered the art of the near miss, I'll be so London savvy I will be able to drive anywhere.
You'll be pleased to know that it's all going well. Yesterday I zoomed along at a healthy national speed limit pace, I skirted the M25, I took on several roundabouts, including the one that I once navigated my mum around the wrong way (wrong lane not anticlockwise- I'm not that stupid). I told her to follow a brown car that didn't exist and gave entirely useless information like "that way!"
Maybe I did freak out on one roundabout. It was all wrong. I tried to start in forth gear, forgot how to steer and lost the clutch in one fell swoop. Kevin, my instructor (highly recommended) pretty much had to drive me out of it from the passenger seat.
I don't know what came over me, except that it sounded like a feeble whimper. I can only assume I was briefly possessed.
My driving career did not start in a very promising manner. I had a couple of lessons when I was 17 but all I remember about them was putting the visor down with both hands as I approached a roundabout. That instructor quit soon after, oddly, although I'm sure I wasn't the real cause.
And then there is the volvo-gate for which I would like to issue a public apology. It was during a road trip to Scotland that my friend offered me a tiny driving lesson. Her parents' car, which we had borrowed was automatic so it was a go/stop kind of affair. Being the cautious person I am, I initially refused the lap of the car park, but my excitement won out and five minutes later I had successfully driven in a circle and arrived back in the parking space. Hurrah!
Then I had a second go. And for some reason, as I was pulling into the space a second time, my friend obviously thought I wasn't stopping quickly enough. Probably she was right but I was basically just rolling into the spot. So when she said "and stop...Stop!" I panicked and put my foot on the brake.
Except that it wasn't the brake.
Duel control would have been very useful in this situation, however the car did bump into the wall and the number plate came off. I'm assured this was pretty much the extent of the damage but at the time I was convinced it was awful and I was going to have to buy a new car.
To add insult to injury, the other friend on the road trip was filming the whole thing: Jess's first driving lesson. So somewhere, hopefully never to be seen, is footage of the whole sorry fiasco.
Friend's lovely parents only recently found out what really happened. Friend told them she had done it when a lonely sheep had wandered out into the road. Naturally.
So I'm very sorry about that and I dedicate this blog to you both. I promise next time I crash a car it will not be yours, and I will be fully licensed and insured. I love you. (Too far?)
But now it's going well. Kevin actually says I'm above average, which I suspect may be to bolster my confidence, but I choose to believe him. It certainly helps that I now know which pedal is stop and which is go.
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