PASS!!

 

Well, the luck of the Irish must have been with me on St Patrick’s day – by some miracle, I passed my driving test!
They say that you don’t really learn to drive until after your test. This is absolutely true. I have discovered that, without an instructor by my side in our old Volkswagen rust-bucket, driving is suddenly very scary. Doing this in London is utterly terrifying. An average journey is like the Krypton Factor. Ginormous, complicated roundabouts, with sign-boards blocked by lorries. Three lane roads suddenly become two lanes. Where did my lane go?! Journeys involve avoiding bus-lanes, recklessly sloppy vehicles of the two-wheeled kind, random slack-jawed idiot pedestrians who can’t be bothered to cross at proper crossings and the utter pricks who think they can cut you up and generally behave like wankers: namely, BMW drivers. Don’t even get me started on bendy fucking buses. Ken Livingstone deserves to burn at the stake for introducing these wretched death traps to our lovely London streets.
Garf and I once sniggered uncontrollably after overhearing two blokes chatting in Las Vegas. One guy said to the other how he would never drive in Vegas, it’s “so scary”. Say what? Driving down straight roads is scary? Forgive me if I’m mistaken but I don’t think there are even any roundabouts in Vegas. Yeah, there’s lots of cars. But it’s still a bloody grid system! You don’t know how lucky you are, dude. Try navigating around Hyde Park corner roundabout at rush hour and then start whining.
I think I’ll be ok eventually, I just really need to get to grips with the lane thing.
I am SO looking forward to the summer. It’s gonna be fun. I *hope* I can drive properly by then.