GETTING closer to adulthood and taking on new responsibilities is an alien aspect alone... but learning how to drive? That's something else all together! I had my first driving lesson last Wednesday after turning 17 (finally!) and it's quite an experience.
Now, don't let me deceive you completely with my blog title, I'm not that terrible my lovely instructor will tell you. And the people who keep asking me when my next lesson is so they can stay inside, that joke is wearing slightly thin now... In actual fact, my first lesson went surprisingly smoothly considering the circumstances. As I was waiting outside my house I could barely stand still with nerves; I'm sure I had a few glances around the curtains from some rather confused neighbours.
When Martin finally arrived, I knew this was the hour of reckoning. Either, I'd cotton onto driving and develop an eagerness to learn or it would turn out to be a complete fandango and each week I would dread stepping into that little Suzuki. He went through all the terminology and the general gist of the inside, dashboard and mirrors.
I should have been pretty comfortable having been told how to adjust the chair accordingly but I sat impatiently waiting like a race car driver for those three words, 'start your engine'. I just hoped I wouldn't actually have a wheel-spin start like them, as there was a pretty innocent cat sat at the kerbside.
Finally, the engine was switched on and the pedals explained. It was all left to me now and as my foot slowly edged off of the clutch, I realised that maybe this driving didn't have some sort of magical skill behind it. It was simply remaining calm and getting into the routine process! Now if I can just crack that.. Mirrors, signal, manoeuvre, mirrors, signal, manoeuvre..
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