OK, so there I was in the garden, digging up the first of the new potatoes, planning a nice gentle blog post about the first season’s harvest from the garden when my phone rings. Can we go and rescue someone’s boyfriend who is in Bigtown’s A&E having come off his bike in a bike race and is now far from home sans wallet, phone, clothes-other-than-lycra and car, which anyway he has just been told he can no longer drive. Naturally the answer is yes so off we go to A&E to pick up the wounded warrior – who seemed more worried about the state of our upholstery than his battered self (or indeed his bike – they must have been handing out the good painkillers tonight). The plan was hatched that we would drive him to his car, then the other half would drive him and his car home while I followed in our car, and then we’d take him to the station to get himself home.
Yes. I can drive. I even passed my test first time, astoundingly (even my driving instructor was surprised. “You didn’t have to reverse park then’ was his less than flattering comment). I then didn’t drive for about 5 years, and thought I’d better re learn when we moved up here – because everyone knows, if you live in the country you have to be able to drive. After a while, I gradually managed to replace any trip I took on my own with a combination of bike, buses, and ruthless lift scrounging and well, somehow at least two years have passed since I last drove anywhere. As I was never that confident a driver it had started to hang over me a bit. I was beginning to wonder if it wouldn’t in fact be easier just to give up on the whole driving thing altogether.
Fortunately, it turned out that I hadn’t forgotten, how although some of my gear changes were a bit heroic. The hardest part was probably backing out of the parking space, and even that went okay when I remembered what the clutch was for. And luckily, we didn’t encounter any cyclists all the way home, so I didn’t have to either overtake them or not overtake them in the approved fashion. Ahem. I really must try and be a bit more empathetic to the poor sods in their cars…
In fact, it was probably better to have it sprung upon me like that, rather than thinking I must do it and then having it hanging over me. Still, while it’s good to know that I can still do it if I really have to, if it’s all right by everyone, I think I’ll just go back to my bike. So much easier and simpler and safer for all concerned, when all is said and done.