An unusually early start this morning. Emma had a 8.40am test, so I had to set off at 6.45 to pick her up from Lossiemouth. Dark purple clouds were cut by gashes of crimson, so the dawn sky looked like a Cocteau Twins album cover.
Emma has been with me since the Spring and was hoping to pass so that she could get her new business up and running. She has started up a company, ‘Ambience’, which specialises in venue styling, for example, weddings. I am more than happy to plug her business http://www.ambiencevenuestyling.com/ and you should not consider any alternatives if you are in northern Scotland. Anyway, back to the driving: She will probably be happy to admit that she did not deserve to pass 1st time, but was robbed on her 2nd attempt (she crept above the speed limit on a long, clear 30mph road). Therefore, I was probably as delighted as she was when she passed this morning. Very well done Emma. Take care on the roads and good luck with your business.
Congratulations also, to Adam, who passed, 1st time, yesterday. This meant 3 passes and 1 fail this week. Adam has been particularly thorough in continually striving to improve his driving. He learned very quickly and bought himself a car to practice in, but bad habits started to creep in. Extra practice between lessons is usually beneficial, but be careful that increased confidence doesn’t become overconfidence. Anyway, I pointed out these sloppy habits to him and he instantly went back to driving as he was taught.
As always, I am really pleased when my pupils pass but, occasionally, the feelings are slightly mixed. Both Emma and Adam have been great pupils: Funny, polite, keen to learn and good company. But their success means that they are off on their own now and they don’t need me anymore (sob). Adam is keen to undertake the Pass Plus course, so it will interesting to see if his driving changes over the next few weeks (I hope not).
I have three more pupils taking their test next week so, if that week is as successful as this week has been, I will have several vacancies for new pupils. So, if you are half as funny, polite, keen and entertaining as Emma and Adam, I will now consider taking you on as a pupil.
Friday, 30 October 2009
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Autumnwatch
Aviemore is also home to The Cairngorm Sled-Dog centre where you can ride in a sled behind a team of Siberian Huskies. I have not done that (yet), but we have watched the Husky sleds race through Culbin Forest. A thrilling sight (especially for our three dogs), but we were glad we weren't horse-riding at the time; that would have been a bit too exciting.
One creature I haven't yet seen is the Sinistral Haggis. The Dextral Haggis (also known as the Common Haggis) is often spotted on the higher slopes of the mountains. Their right legs are longer than their left, which means it is comfortable for them to graze clockwise around the mountains. The Sinistral Haggis however, has longer left legs. This means it has to face the opposite way (anticlockwise) on the mountain, otherwise it topples over. It's a rare beastie indeed.
Currently in Elgin Test Centre, waiting for Glynn, on his second test. A beautiful cloudless day here, with temperatures predicted to reach 19C; fantastic for this time of year. The trouble is, the low autumn sun can make visibility very difficult; especially after last night's rain. In the lesson before his test, Glynn was struggling to see at one roundabout because the sun was directly in his eyes. I suggested that he invested in a good pair of sunglasses to keep in his car. "I've already got a pair for driving." "Well, put them on then." I replied. "They're in my car at home." Doh!
This is the second test (after Andrew) of quite a busy period for me as far as tests are concerned. Obviously, I want them all to pass, but if they all pass in the next three weeks I lose a third of my pupils. And if they all pass in the next five weeks, I lose half of my pupils. A bit worrying with the festive season on the horizon.
Tonight I can forget about driving for a short while. Jane and I are taking Maggie to see the incomparable Julie Fowlis at Eden Court theatre, Inverness. You may remember that we went to see her a few months back, in Fochabers, but Maggie hasn't seen her before (and it is sad that Robert, Maggie's husband, never did get to see her; he would have loved her). Besides, you can't have too much of a good thing.
(An hour later) Sadly, Glynn didn't pass. Of all the pupils I have up for test over these few weeks, Glynn was one I would have been tempted to bet money on him passing. In the last few minutes of the lesson before his test he came up to a T-junction, stopped to wait for a gap in the traffic, then, just before he went to move off I had to remind him to select 1st gear (he was in 2nd). Perhaps that should have set alarm bells ringing in my head, but it was nothing I have ever had to remind about before (at least, not for a long time). Of course, he did exactly the same thing in the test, forgot to select 1st gear, tried to pull out of a T-junction in 2nd and stalled. There was no other traffic, but the examiner obviously thought it was potentially dangerous, so she failed him. Perhaps the sun was too bright and he could not see which gear he was in (I am joking). Bring your sunglasses next time Glynn.
Monday, 26 October 2009
Happy Days
Of course, there was also the tiny matter of Liverpool beating Man Utd 2 - 0. Admittedly, I have kept very quiet about my support for Liverpool recently; cowardly, I know. Selling Xavi Alonso has left a huge whole in our midfield, which has resulted in 6 defeats already this season - four of them in the preceding four games. Hard to imagine even the most optimistic of Liverpool fans betting large sums on the reds beating Manchester United on Sunday, despite the fact that we beat them twice last season. Anyway, I won't wobble on too much because you won't care (unless you are also a Liverpool fan) but, you have to admit.... Torres is a god (and Richie Foran, Inverness' Hat-trick hero is an apprentice god... at least this week).
I am now parked up in Aviemore, with ten minutes to spare before Andy's lesson. I have just come from Inverness Test Centre where Andrew passed, first time, with five minor faults. Very well done, Andrew. I had the impression you didn't think you could do it, but the test really isn't so bad, is it? Just like another lesson, really.
Time to go. Here's hoping your week is as wonderful as the start of mine.
Friday, 23 October 2009
Gravity sucks
I got home the other day to see a Post-It note on the fridge, ‘Martin - Abseil - Raigmore?’ Apparently, my step-daughter, Anna, thinks its would be a good idea for me to abseil from the top of the Raigmore tower for charity (not sure which charity yet). Curious that she doesn’t think it would be a ‘good idea’ for her to do it. A few years ago I would have found the words “Yeah, sure” leaving my lips quicker than Fernando Torres turns Nemanja Vidic. Now, however, I get my adrenaline fixes from teaching people how to drive, so I may need some gentle cajoling to do this.
Although I have never abseiled, and the idea does appeal, I just can’t see it providing as much of a thrill as parachuting. Somehow, one night in The Cross Keys, our barmaid, Sam, and one of the regulars, Terry, thought that, as part of our annual charity fund-raising, the three of us should do a parachute jump.
We travelled up to Sibson airfield, near Peterborough (and bordering the A1, which was a tad worrying). After a day and a half of training, the time had come. We strapped our chutes on and clambered into the Islander aeroplane. We were doing a ‘static-line’ jump, which meant that the tops of our packs were connected to the plane by a line. When you jump the line goes taught and opens the chute automatically (hopefully). We were equipped with a spare chute, which would have to be operated manually if the first chute had not deployed within four seconds of leaving the plane.
There were seven of us jumping and, so that everyone could be dropped in roughly the same place, the plan was that the first person would jump, the plane would circle round to the same place and drop the next two, then circle round again and drop two more etc. I was No.2. As the first person got ready to jump the plane slowed to almost stalling speed, Cornelia, the jump-master gave the command, ‘Go’, and he dropped from the plane, counting “One thousand - two thousand - three thousand - four thousand” as he went.
As the plane circled round to the drop point, I had to shuffle forward to the open door. I will never forget the feeling when I heard the engine slow down and I had to swing my legs outs the door and perch, with just my right bum cheek and my hands in the plane. You are warned not to look down, but I couldn’t help it. It was only about 2,500’, but the Earth still looks a very long way down at that height. Before I could gulp Cornelia shouted ‘Go’ and I flung myself out from the plane. I assumed the ‘starfish’ position and began my count. Unless you have done a parachute (or bungee) jump, you have no idea how quickly you accelerate and plummet to Earth. Later, Sam told me my count changed from a shout to a scream - “One thousand - two thousand - THREE THOUS - FOOOOOUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!!!!” I looked up and watching my parachute billow out above me was such a blissful sight. The gentle float down was all very nice and my much-rehearsed landing was textbook, but the most vivid memory was of that drop in the first few seconds.
Sam and Terry landed safely, about a minute later. “WWOWW!!” was the agreed reaction (it was in the days before OMG!! was invented). We all wanted to get back up there and do it again.
Terry and I continued to go regularly over the next year, or so. I progressed to freefall jumping, with higher altitudes and increasingly longer delays before pulling the ripcord. This meant faster speeds and longer thrills, but that very first jump remains my favourite memory.
I can see the Raigmore tower from where I am currently parked. After writing about parachuting, it doesn’t look very high, although I am sure it will look high enough when I go up there…. if I go up there.
Although I have never abseiled, and the idea does appeal, I just can’t see it providing as much of a thrill as parachuting. Somehow, one night in The Cross Keys, our barmaid, Sam, and one of the regulars, Terry, thought that, as part of our annual charity fund-raising, the three of us should do a parachute jump.
We travelled up to Sibson airfield, near Peterborough (and bordering the A1, which was a tad worrying). After a day and a half of training, the time had come. We strapped our chutes on and clambered into the Islander aeroplane. We were doing a ‘static-line’ jump, which meant that the tops of our packs were connected to the plane by a line. When you jump the line goes taught and opens the chute automatically (hopefully). We were equipped with a spare chute, which would have to be operated manually if the first chute had not deployed within four seconds of leaving the plane.
There were seven of us jumping and, so that everyone could be dropped in roughly the same place, the plan was that the first person would jump, the plane would circle round to the same place and drop the next two, then circle round again and drop two more etc. I was No.2. As the first person got ready to jump the plane slowed to almost stalling speed, Cornelia, the jump-master gave the command, ‘Go’, and he dropped from the plane, counting “One thousand - two thousand - three thousand - four thousand” as he went.
As the plane circled round to the drop point, I had to shuffle forward to the open door. I will never forget the feeling when I heard the engine slow down and I had to swing my legs outs the door and perch, with just my right bum cheek and my hands in the plane. You are warned not to look down, but I couldn’t help it. It was only about 2,500’, but the Earth still looks a very long way down at that height. Before I could gulp Cornelia shouted ‘Go’ and I flung myself out from the plane. I assumed the ‘starfish’ position and began my count. Unless you have done a parachute (or bungee) jump, you have no idea how quickly you accelerate and plummet to Earth. Later, Sam told me my count changed from a shout to a scream - “One thousand - two thousand - THREE THOUS - FOOOOOUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!!!!” I looked up and watching my parachute billow out above me was such a blissful sight. The gentle float down was all very nice and my much-rehearsed landing was textbook, but the most vivid memory was of that drop in the first few seconds.
Sam and Terry landed safely, about a minute later. “WWOWW!!” was the agreed reaction (it was in the days before OMG!! was invented). We all wanted to get back up there and do it again.
Terry and I continued to go regularly over the next year, or so. I progressed to freefall jumping, with higher altitudes and increasingly longer delays before pulling the ripcord. This meant faster speeds and longer thrills, but that very first jump remains my favourite memory.
I can see the Raigmore tower from where I am currently parked. After writing about parachuting, it doesn’t look very high, although I am sure it will look high enough when I go up there…. if I go up there.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Ruby Ruby Ruby Ruby..... RUBY!
Aaaarrrrrrrgggggghh! Ruby had her 4th attempt at the driving test today. The title of this blog, and the opening word immediately ruins the suspense and tells you that she failed... again.
I was so confident about Ruby; but then, I was confident on her previous three attempts too. I have had plenty of pupils pass who were good drivers, but a bit.....'raw'. When Ruby drives it is like being in the car with a friend who has been driving for years. Perhaps this is a bad thing. Perhaps I need to intensely scrutinise every minute aspect of her driving to a greater extent. The problem is, during her lessons, she just doesn't make mistakes. But, when it comes to the test, something happens and she makes silly mistakes.
This time she came up to a STOP sign, almost stopped, but saw it was clear and immediately drove off. Unfortunately, you have to demonstrate to the examiner that you know it is a 'stop' and not a 'give way', regardless of whether you can see it is safe to proceed.
Ruby knows this, just as she knew not to exceed the speed limit in her second test, but some little devil sat on her shoulder and told her "What are you stopping for? It's clear to go."
So, a new record for me; a pupil now going for their 5th attempt. At least she has moved past the 'upset' stage. She is now quite philosophical about it all and joking that she wants to get to know the examiners well enough so that she can send them Christmas cards.
It won't happen. She WILL pass next time. I just need to find a way of keeping those little devils off her shoulders.
Driving away from dropping Ruby off I was cheered by Fearne Cotton playing this track http://open.spotify.com/track/6ACPfkfDfJfGGE4oKfbiRY on the radio. How refreshing, in a Louis Prima, King of the Swingers, kind of way.
I was so confident about Ruby; but then, I was confident on her previous three attempts too. I have had plenty of pupils pass who were good drivers, but a bit.....'raw'. When Ruby drives it is like being in the car with a friend who has been driving for years. Perhaps this is a bad thing. Perhaps I need to intensely scrutinise every minute aspect of her driving to a greater extent. The problem is, during her lessons, she just doesn't make mistakes. But, when it comes to the test, something happens and she makes silly mistakes.
This time she came up to a STOP sign, almost stopped, but saw it was clear and immediately drove off. Unfortunately, you have to demonstrate to the examiner that you know it is a 'stop' and not a 'give way', regardless of whether you can see it is safe to proceed.
Ruby knows this, just as she knew not to exceed the speed limit in her second test, but some little devil sat on her shoulder and told her "What are you stopping for? It's clear to go."
So, a new record for me; a pupil now going for their 5th attempt. At least she has moved past the 'upset' stage. She is now quite philosophical about it all and joking that she wants to get to know the examiners well enough so that she can send them Christmas cards.
It won't happen. She WILL pass next time. I just need to find a way of keeping those little devils off her shoulders.
Driving away from dropping Ruby off I was cheered by Fearne Cotton playing this track http://open.spotify.com/track/6ACPfkfDfJfGGE4oKfbiRY on the radio. How refreshing, in a Louis Prima, King of the Swingers, kind of way.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
The Iceman cometh
It was a different story first thing this morning, though. I had to scrape ice off my windscreen and, as I drove over Dava moor, on my way to meet Verity in Aviemore, the temperature dropped to -2C. So, only halfway through October and already we have had snow on the mountains and minus temperatures.
I suspect that this is going to be the first of several reports of icy conditions. I just hope it doesn't get as bad as last January, when the temperature dropped to -18C in Grantown-on-Spey. On of BSM's instructors missed two days work because the diesel in his tank froze. Bizarrely, despite the freakish temperatures last winter, I only had one test cancelled due to poor weather, and that was due to snow.... in October!
My main worry is my wife, Jane. She has a part-time job collecting/returning schoolchildren from Glen Ferness and other areas the coaches cant reach. A job she enjoys during the warmer months, but it gets a bit scary during the winter. Last year there were days when the snow by the side of the road had been ploughed higher than her minibus. I have to commend the local authorities on how efficient they usually are at gritting the roads around here, but Jane often has to drive along roads which remain untouched by gritters.
I hope to post some advice for driving in snow/icy conditions over the next few weeks but, until then, the simplest advice I can give is 'don't drive in such conditions unless it is absolutely necessary'.
So, until the weather gets too silly, I look forward to my trips over the moors to Aviemore, especially if they are as spectacular as this morning. My choice of CD was Four Calendar Cafe by The Cocteau Twins. Elizabeth Fraser breathing her vocals all over me while the lightest of mists lay draped over the Spey glen added a cinematic quality to the drive. http://open.spotify.com/track/6FtcMwa3UsYCKFYTJ1kW04
(p.s. No, the photo is not of the Highlands. Actually, I don't know where the photo was taken, I just think it is an incredible scene - click on the photo to emlarge it)
Saturday, 17 October 2009
Mirror SIGNAL Maneouvre
Drivers, do you ever use hand signals, or do you know how to use them? Learners, has your instructor taught you hand signals? Instructors, do you teach hand signals?
The reason I ask is because another instructor recently had a pupil fail their test because they did not know hand signals. A vintage car (without indicators) in front of them gave the hand signal to indicate that they were slowing down. They then gave the appropriate hand signal to indicate that they were stopping. The pupil did not understand what was happening and sat behind the stopped car, thus causing an obstruction. The examiner told him the car was parked and the pupil got a serious fault for 'Response to signs/signals - Other road users'. Apparently the pupil's instructor disagreed with decision, claiming that "No-one teaches hand signals anymore."
This information came from BSM's instructor forum, where the question was asked, 'Do you teach hand signals?' I have to confess, the number of pupils I have taught hand signals are probably in the minority. As a result of this story, I will now ensure I teach every pupil hand signals. Ok, ok, it is not every day that a vintage car stops in front of you, but there are plenty of other times when hand signals are useful: To confirm a right turn soon after indicating to overtake an obstruction; when you indicators are faulty; when approaching a pedestrian crossing to confirm to vehicles/pedestrians ahead that you are stopping; to emphasise your signal if you think your indicators may be obscured by other vehicles; and when cyclists and horseriders want to indicate their intentions are some examples.
And that is the key phrase, 'to indicate your intentions'. I'm not just talking about hand signals now. If I had a penny for every time someone failed to signal correctly I would have more money than a politician with an imaginative expense account. Your indicators are there for a reason. They are there so that every other road user knows what you are about to do. How often do you see cars turning right at roundabouts with NO right signal? And Taxis! What fear do taxi drivers have of indicating? You would think that, with all that practice, taxi drivers would be the BEST drivers on the road. Before anyone leaps to their keyboard, frothing with fury because their dad is a taxi driver and his driving is perfect, I will happily concede that there some good taxi drivers out there, just as there are some good Audi drivers.
Once you can drive, keep asking yourself 'How can I improve my driving?' Anticipation and planning are essential skills, but correct use of signals is equally important and demonstrates consideration for other road users.
Otherwise, you may find other drivers giving you hand signals that you will certainly not find in the Highway Code.
The reason I ask is because another instructor recently had a pupil fail their test because they did not know hand signals. A vintage car (without indicators) in front of them gave the hand signal to indicate that they were slowing down. They then gave the appropriate hand signal to indicate that they were stopping. The pupil did not understand what was happening and sat behind the stopped car, thus causing an obstruction. The examiner told him the car was parked and the pupil got a serious fault for 'Response to signs/signals - Other road users'. Apparently the pupil's instructor disagreed with decision, claiming that "No-one teaches hand signals anymore."
This information came from BSM's instructor forum, where the question was asked, 'Do you teach hand signals?' I have to confess, the number of pupils I have taught hand signals are probably in the minority. As a result of this story, I will now ensure I teach every pupil hand signals. Ok, ok, it is not every day that a vintage car stops in front of you, but there are plenty of other times when hand signals are useful: To confirm a right turn soon after indicating to overtake an obstruction; when you indicators are faulty; when approaching a pedestrian crossing to confirm to vehicles/pedestrians ahead that you are stopping; to emphasise your signal if you think your indicators may be obscured by other vehicles; and when cyclists and horseriders want to indicate their intentions are some examples.
And that is the key phrase, 'to indicate your intentions'. I'm not just talking about hand signals now. If I had a penny for every time someone failed to signal correctly I would have more money than a politician with an imaginative expense account. Your indicators are there for a reason. They are there so that every other road user knows what you are about to do. How often do you see cars turning right at roundabouts with NO right signal? And Taxis! What fear do taxi drivers have of indicating? You would think that, with all that practice, taxi drivers would be the BEST drivers on the road. Before anyone leaps to their keyboard, frothing with fury because their dad is a taxi driver and his driving is perfect, I will happily concede that there some good taxi drivers out there, just as there are some good Audi drivers.
Once you can drive, keep asking yourself 'How can I improve my driving?' Anticipation and planning are essential skills, but correct use of signals is equally important and demonstrates consideration for other road users.
Otherwise, you may find other drivers giving you hand signals that you will certainly not find in the Highway Code.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Brain dead
Shame on me, I haven't updated my blog in nearly five days. What is my excuse? Have I been far too busy working? Did my laptop explode? Did my dog eat my fingers? No, 'fraid not. The sad answer is that, over the weekend, my brain turned to mush.
When I was in the hospitality industry, the concept of a 'weekend' was meaningless. If anything, weekends acutally meant more work. Now, being a self-employed driving instructor, I can pick and choose my time off, so I like to take the same time off that Jane does. Sometimes we use that free time constuctively; to ride the horses in Culbin Forest, walk the dogs on the beach, take a drive out to some part of the Highlands, go and see the rest of the family, or, even, do a bit of gardening (which consists of Jane gardening and me digging... I haven't got the greenest of fingers). Last weekend however, it was a bit of a 'nothing' weekend. We didn't really do anything - or, rather, I didn't (Jane rode Lachie). All I really remember doing was sitting in front of the telly, watching Strictly..., X Factor and a DVD of the 3rd Pirates of the Caribbean film.
Hardly something to write a blog about, is it? The trouble is, this cosy, switch-off-brain, unchallenging, couch-potato mode turns me into a brain-dead zombie (cue cheap comments from old friends). Admittedly, questions were posed: Is Anton du Beke a racist, or just stupid? Is Danniiiiiiii Minogue (I wasn't sure how many i's to put in) an homophobe, or just stupid? Is the plot of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End disjointed, ludicrous and meaningless, or am I just stupid? I have decided that the answers to 66.67 % of those three questions are 'just stupid'. But those questions are hardly the food for thought that sends my mind into a pinball machine of activity.
Often, in such times, I can turn to t'interweb for inspiration; a Charlie Brooker tweet, a Caitlin Moran column, an unusual news item or even a BSM Instructor Forum item are reliable fuses to mental fireworks.... but not this weekend. Sigh.
There was only one thing for it. I needed my pupils.
I loaded up Maybe you've been brainwashed too by The New Radicals, highly appropriate considering my state of torpor, turned up the volume and headed off to Aviemore for lessons with Verity and her boyfriend, Andrew, in their new hometown. From a driving point of view, Aviemore and Grantown-on-Spey are not as challenging as Inverness and Elgin, but it kept me on my toes because I am not yet familiar with the area. Although I always try to plan lessons to some extent, I cannot remember 4 hours-worth of driving routes, so it was especially challenging for me, looking for junctions and hazards, while trying to stay a couple of seconds ahead of my pupils.
The 50 minute drive home was curious. From leaving Aviemore, I drove 33 miles without seeing one single car, until I got to Forres. I know the B9007, past Lochindorb, over the Dava moor is not the busiest of roads, but it is a slightly eerie feeling, not seeing the slightest hint of human life over such a distance. To add to the sensation, my fuel light started flashing soon after Carrbridge, with no petrol stations for the next 30 miles.
So, if you ever suffer a similar state of torpor, maybe after a weekend of nothingness, the answer is simple. Just head out into the night and drive over a desolate Highland moor, with just enough fuel to make you wonder if you will ever reach walking distance of human life. It will alert you more effectively than taking a swim in a freezing lake of Red Bull.
(Everyone knows You get what you give by The New Radicals, but Mother we just can't get enough (from the Maybe you've been Brainwashed... album) is great for turning up really loud at the start of a journey. http://open.spotify.com/track/5cXsjcvQxx1S7jXxah4m3o)
When I was in the hospitality industry, the concept of a 'weekend' was meaningless. If anything, weekends acutally meant more work. Now, being a self-employed driving instructor, I can pick and choose my time off, so I like to take the same time off that Jane does. Sometimes we use that free time constuctively; to ride the horses in Culbin Forest, walk the dogs on the beach, take a drive out to some part of the Highlands, go and see the rest of the family, or, even, do a bit of gardening (which consists of Jane gardening and me digging... I haven't got the greenest of fingers). Last weekend however, it was a bit of a 'nothing' weekend. We didn't really do anything - or, rather, I didn't (Jane rode Lachie). All I really remember doing was sitting in front of the telly, watching Strictly..., X Factor and a DVD of the 3rd Pirates of the Caribbean film.
Hardly something to write a blog about, is it? The trouble is, this cosy, switch-off-brain, unchallenging, couch-potato mode turns me into a brain-dead zombie (cue cheap comments from old friends). Admittedly, questions were posed: Is Anton du Beke a racist, or just stupid? Is Danniiiiiiii Minogue (I wasn't sure how many i's to put in) an homophobe, or just stupid? Is the plot of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End disjointed, ludicrous and meaningless, or am I just stupid? I have decided that the answers to 66.67 % of those three questions are 'just stupid'. But those questions are hardly the food for thought that sends my mind into a pinball machine of activity.
Often, in such times, I can turn to t'interweb for inspiration; a Charlie Brooker tweet, a Caitlin Moran column, an unusual news item or even a BSM Instructor Forum item are reliable fuses to mental fireworks.... but not this weekend. Sigh.
There was only one thing for it. I needed my pupils.
I loaded up Maybe you've been brainwashed too by The New Radicals, highly appropriate considering my state of torpor, turned up the volume and headed off to Aviemore for lessons with Verity and her boyfriend, Andrew, in their new hometown. From a driving point of view, Aviemore and Grantown-on-Spey are not as challenging as Inverness and Elgin, but it kept me on my toes because I am not yet familiar with the area. Although I always try to plan lessons to some extent, I cannot remember 4 hours-worth of driving routes, so it was especially challenging for me, looking for junctions and hazards, while trying to stay a couple of seconds ahead of my pupils.
The 50 minute drive home was curious. From leaving Aviemore, I drove 33 miles without seeing one single car, until I got to Forres. I know the B9007, past Lochindorb, over the Dava moor is not the busiest of roads, but it is a slightly eerie feeling, not seeing the slightest hint of human life over such a distance. To add to the sensation, my fuel light started flashing soon after Carrbridge, with no petrol stations for the next 30 miles.
So, if you ever suffer a similar state of torpor, maybe after a weekend of nothingness, the answer is simple. Just head out into the night and drive over a desolate Highland moor, with just enough fuel to make you wonder if you will ever reach walking distance of human life. It will alert you more effectively than taking a swim in a freezing lake of Red Bull.
(Everyone knows You get what you give by The New Radicals, but Mother we just can't get enough (from the Maybe you've been Brainwashed... album) is great for turning up really loud at the start of a journey. http://open.spotify.com/track/5cXsjcvQxx1S7jXxah4m3o)
Friday, 9 October 2009
Looking for the Bluebird of Happiness
Hmmm. It is not turning out to be the best of weeks for me. It started off with Daisy failing her test and reacting badly, then a pupil tried to drive the wrong way round a 60mph roundabout, then another pupil cancelled four hours of lessons because she didn’t like me instructing her (I would have thought the clue would have been in my job title), then I have had to deal with idiots who treat the roads as though they are at Brands Hatch (thus resulting in two serious accidents on the same stretch of the A96 this week) and, now, another pupil, Glynn, has just failed his test in Elgin. Worst of all, Wednesday’s late lesson meant that I missed the first 15 minutes of the excellent Criminal Justice, starring Maxine Peake.
I am doing my best to improve the mood. After Glynn’s test (ineffective observation during his reverse park was his serious fault) I stopped off at home for a quick mug of Earl Grey and a fishfinger and tartare sauce sandwich. It is a food/drink combination made in heaven; as good as Port and Stilton, Oysters and Stout, Caviar and vodka, or roast lamb and Chateau Margaux. I notice that Tescos now sell fishfinger and ketchup sandwiches; not as good, but almost a reason to consider shopping there…. almost.
Then, after my ambrosial lunch, I went on my way to Inverness with John Otway & Wild Willy Barrett’s debut album on full blast in the CD player. My mood improved dramatically.
I am now at Inverness Test Centre. Tasmin is out on her 2nd attempt. You may remember me being particularly disappointed when she failed three weeks ago, despite only picking up three minor faults. During the two hour lesson before her test, just now, her driving was practically faultless. If she has an Achilles heel, it is her parallel park - she can do it, she just doesn’t like doing it - but, if she takes her time, she should be fine.
I had been on quite a good run before this week, as far as test passes were concerned, then two consecutive fails (pending Tasmin’s test) put an end to that run. It’s funny how often you get a run of similar results. Soon after I first became an instructor I had ten consecutive test passes and I thought I was the cat’s pyjamas; God’s gift to learner drivers. My bubble was well and truly burst when I followed those ten passes with ten fails. It was very easy to believe that I was doing something wrong and letting my pupils down in some way. However, if I had remembered the excellent teaching of our math’s teacher, Mr. Veal (‘Vealybum’ as Alison preferred to call him), I would have realised that, statistically, runs like that are to be expected. So, as I sit, waiting for Tasmin to return, I am minutes away from knowing whether I am on a bad run of three consecutive fails. Here she comes now. Fingers crossed.
Hooray!!! I am now on a run of one consecutive pass! Well done Tasmin. You have made my week.
Thursday, 8 October 2009
Pupils!
I knew it was coming. My area spans the west end of the Moray Firth, which is framed by distant mountains. It is a beautiful morning now, but, for the first time since April, overnight rain fell as snow on Ben Wyvis and some of the other mountains. Picturesque it certainly is, but it is too mild to last at the moment, even at 3,000+ feet. It won't be long though before the mountains are capped with snow all the way through to next summer.
I am now warmed by mild schadenfreude this lunchtime. I am sitting on a bench, with an all-day breakfast sandwich and a coffee, overlooking the beautiful sandy beach at Lossiemouth and enjoying the bright autumn sun. I got back in the car to hear the radio DJ moaning that he is suffering from SAD because the weather in London is miserable.
It's nice to have a bit of a breather, especially after last night.
We were nearing the end of my last lesson of the day. We had been working on roundabouts for the last hour, practicing on minor roundabouts before moving on to the big boys. I had planned a route which looped from 4 roundabouts on the A96, up to the Fluke roundabout, left to Inshes roundabout, then up towards Culloden before dipping back down to the A96. A few nasty roundabouts on that route, but my pupil was dealing with them with increasing confidence.
Raigmore interchange is a big, fast roundabout that links the A9 dual-carriageway to the A96. The route had been taking us straight ahead on the A96, going under the A9, but this time I wanted my pupil to turn right, up on to the A9. The approach was fine, mirrors, signals, position, speed and gears were all good. He came up to the roundabout, looked right, then turned RIGHT (to go the wrong way round the roundabout)! At least, he tried to. I grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched it round to the left just in time to get back in the correct lane.
"You told me to turn right." He protested.
"But it's a ROUNDABOUT!"
"Oh...oh, yeah."
By now we were heading up the slip road for the A9, bringing the speed up towards the national speed limit and I was left without anywhere to pull him over and make sure he understood the situation. I'm sure he did understand, he just had 'a blip'. But a blip I could have done without.
Less exciting, but less comfortable was a situation this morning. My pupil was heading home and we were approaching a side road to turn right. She left her braking a little late and ended up having to stop the car because of an oncoming car. The car passed and she didn't move. Meanwhile, two cars are behind us and there is also a car in the side road waiting to turn right.
"Put your foot on the accelerator and bring the clutch up slowly."
Nothing.
"Put your foot on the accelerator and bring the clutch up slowly." I calmly repeated.
Nothing.
"Put your foot on the accelerator." I repeated a little more forcefully.
"Wait. Just let me think about it." She replied.
"No. We have people waiting. We need to clear the junction. Put your foot on the accelerator." (I had my foot on the dual-clutch to stop her from stalling). Finally she did so and I gestured to apologise to the other cars waiting patiently.
She asked me to drive the last couple of miles home, which I was happy to do, and I finished the lesson by suggesting that we would concentrate on right turns and crossing traffic in the next lesson. She seemed happy with that and I confirmed the time of our next lesson.
I have just learned that she has since called the office and cancelled her next lessons because she didn't enjoy this morning. Normally, I would call her and encourage her on her progress so far, then suggest that we find some quiet roads to practice those right turns on (this is a pupil who had moved beyond right turns to dealing with crossroads and roundabouts). However, she is moving away from the area on Monday so I will just wish her well with her future lessons.
I think that I'm as patient as anyone, but, when we are driving on roads shared by other people, I have to make sure my pupils give them consideration (no matter how obvious the 'L' plate). It may be a little scary dealing with pupils who try to turn the wrong way on a 60mph roundabout, but I would rather do that than have to apologise unnecessarily to other drivers because my pupil wanted to 'stop and think about things' in the middle of a junction.
I am now warmed by mild schadenfreude this lunchtime. I am sitting on a bench, with an all-day breakfast sandwich and a coffee, overlooking the beautiful sandy beach at Lossiemouth and enjoying the bright autumn sun. I got back in the car to hear the radio DJ moaning that he is suffering from SAD because the weather in London is miserable.
It's nice to have a bit of a breather, especially after last night.
We were nearing the end of my last lesson of the day. We had been working on roundabouts for the last hour, practicing on minor roundabouts before moving on to the big boys. I had planned a route which looped from 4 roundabouts on the A96, up to the Fluke roundabout, left to Inshes roundabout, then up towards Culloden before dipping back down to the A96. A few nasty roundabouts on that route, but my pupil was dealing with them with increasing confidence.
Raigmore interchange is a big, fast roundabout that links the A9 dual-carriageway to the A96. The route had been taking us straight ahead on the A96, going under the A9, but this time I wanted my pupil to turn right, up on to the A9. The approach was fine, mirrors, signals, position, speed and gears were all good. He came up to the roundabout, looked right, then turned RIGHT (to go the wrong way round the roundabout)! At least, he tried to. I grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched it round to the left just in time to get back in the correct lane.
"You told me to turn right." He protested.
"But it's a ROUNDABOUT!"
"Oh...oh, yeah."
By now we were heading up the slip road for the A9, bringing the speed up towards the national speed limit and I was left without anywhere to pull him over and make sure he understood the situation. I'm sure he did understand, he just had 'a blip'. But a blip I could have done without.
Less exciting, but less comfortable was a situation this morning. My pupil was heading home and we were approaching a side road to turn right. She left her braking a little late and ended up having to stop the car because of an oncoming car. The car passed and she didn't move. Meanwhile, two cars are behind us and there is also a car in the side road waiting to turn right.
"Put your foot on the accelerator and bring the clutch up slowly."
Nothing.
"Put your foot on the accelerator and bring the clutch up slowly." I calmly repeated.
Nothing.
"Put your foot on the accelerator." I repeated a little more forcefully.
"Wait. Just let me think about it." She replied.
"No. We have people waiting. We need to clear the junction. Put your foot on the accelerator." (I had my foot on the dual-clutch to stop her from stalling). Finally she did so and I gestured to apologise to the other cars waiting patiently.
She asked me to drive the last couple of miles home, which I was happy to do, and I finished the lesson by suggesting that we would concentrate on right turns and crossing traffic in the next lesson. She seemed happy with that and I confirmed the time of our next lesson.
I have just learned that she has since called the office and cancelled her next lessons because she didn't enjoy this morning. Normally, I would call her and encourage her on her progress so far, then suggest that we find some quiet roads to practice those right turns on (this is a pupil who had moved beyond right turns to dealing with crossroads and roundabouts). However, she is moving away from the area on Monday so I will just wish her well with her future lessons.
I think that I'm as patient as anyone, but, when we are driving on roads shared by other people, I have to make sure my pupils give them consideration (no matter how obvious the 'L' plate). It may be a little scary dealing with pupils who try to turn the wrong way on a 60mph roundabout, but I would rather do that than have to apologise unnecessarily to other drivers because my pupil wanted to 'stop and think about things' in the middle of a junction.
Monday, 5 October 2009
(Culloden) Contracts Killer
Alpine clear skies meant that we had our first frost of the season, but it is now a beautiful morning with a warm, bright sun that has brought ultra-vivid colours to the scenery. Daisy is out on her 9.37am test, first attempt.
You may remember that I talked about 'Harry' a few weeks back. He was in a desperate rush to take his test, despite me saying that he was not ready. If you recall, he said 'his dad' had booked a last-minute test for him, which he was going to hire a car to take.
I sent him a text later that day, asking him how he got on. 'I didn't pass' was the short, but to-the-point reply. I decided not to bother him further, other than to let him know that I would always be happy to offer more help when he needed it (so far, no word from him). Anyway, on Saturday I learned that he had failed badly with four serious faults. As much as I don't want to, I guess this is my way of saying 'I told you so'. As I have said before (I think), let your instructor decide when you are ready to take your test. You (or your dad) may not agree, but your instructor has a far better idea of the standard required.
Daisy was undecided as to whether she wanted me to sit in the back of her car during the test. It is her decision - I will gladly sit in if a pupil prefers - but I steered her away from the idea. Her driving is fine, I know that and she knows it, but her nerves mean that she is constantly asking 'would that be a fault?', 'would I fail for that?', 'will the examiner tell me if I have done something wrong?' etc. If I sat in the test with her I think she would be too tempted to turn to me for help. To quote the wise words of Rihanna, "Shut up and drive."
She didn't pass. She braked a bit too sharply on approach to a T-junction and encroached on the wrong side of the road as she came up to a bend. As they say in the Bronx, NY, 'Poo happens'. Maybe it was a lack of concentration, maybe I had not been thorough enough in explaining the consequences of those two faults. The drive home after an unsuccessful test is never the best part of my job, but Daisy took it particularly badly. She has two young children and she desperately wants to be able to take them out without relying on buses. She can't see it yet, but the examiner was right to fail her for those faults. What could have happened if she had her children in the car and someone had gone into the back of her because she had braked too sharply? What happens if she gets into the habit of cutting across corners and, one day, there is a lorry coming round the bend on her side of the road? She really wasn't in the mood for a post-mortem of her test, so I told her to take a break from driving for a few days, then book a second attempt and contact me for some further lessons in good time before the test. I dropped her back at her house, very upset and angry because she thinks she is better driver than a lot of people who are already on the road. She is. But, she needs to be even better.
I drove away from Elgin, on the (60mph) A96, and, as I approached Alves, I could see a white van behind me gaining quickly. I watched him carefully as I approached the brow of a hill and was horrified to see him overtake me. I had been doing 60 mph, so he must have been in excess of 80mph with no way of knowing if there was anything coming up the other side of the hill. I braked so that he could pull back in as quickly as possible, but, thankfully, there was nothing coming the other way. So, to the driver of this white Ford Transit, registration SX06EHJ, belonging to Culloden Contracts, this time you (and I) got lucky, but keep driving like that and, one day, you'll be spread out on the tarmac like strawberry jam.
In the drive before her test, Daisy asked where I live. "Why do you ask?" I replied. "So that, when I fail, I can come and kill you." I think she was joking but, either way, that's two threats of death I have had this morning.
(Edit: I note that a few people have visited this page after searching online for 'Culloden Contracts'.... I am sure that their drivers are now the finest there is and should not be blemished with the actions of a driver that was with them 18 months ago)
(Edit: I note that a few people have visited this page after searching online for 'Culloden Contracts'.... I am sure that their drivers are now the finest there is and should not be blemished with the actions of a driver that was with them 18 months ago)
Sunday, 4 October 2009
More P R 4 T 5
As a follow-up to my P R 4 T blog, a few days ago, one is amused to read the following article http://carloz.newsvine.com/_news/2009/09/28/3325007-vanity-thy-name-is-j4mes-police-catch-bank-robbers-who-used-car-with-personalized-license-plate
And while we are in a light-hearted mood,http://www.stumbleupon.com/s/#1ibD48/notalwaysright.com/youve-got-the-wrongest-number/2538/
And while we are in a light-hearted mood,http://www.stumbleupon.com/s/#1ibD48/notalwaysright.com/youve-got-the-wrongest-number/2538/
Should I stay or should I go?
As Mick Jones (or was it Joe Strummer?) once said, “This indecision's bugging me (Esta undecision me molesta)”.
A slightly curious one this morning. A pupil, who is only a couple of lessons away from their test, has become overcautious at roundabouts. Not in the usual meaning though, where they stop at roundabouts and wait unnecessarily, missing gap after gap.
He had a nice approach; checking his mirrors, signalling in good time, confirming his position, slowing down, selecting the appropriate gear and looking for his gap. So far, so good. Then, for some reason, he sees his gap, accelerates, but keeps looking to the right (for any vehicles that he may have missed).
It was too important for me to discuss while on the move, so I pulled him over and discussed it.
“When you are approaching a T-junction, where should you stop if it is not safe to go?”
“Behind the give-way line.”
“Good. So, how do you decide if it is safe to go?”
“If I can move off without causing other vehicles to change speed or direction.” (Admittedly, he wasn’t really giving me these textbook answers, but he was giving me the correct answers).
“Is there a give-way line at a roundabout?”
“Yes.”
“So is it any different?”
“No.”
The point I was trying to make was that he should be making a decision to slow down/stop or go before the give-way line. Once he has decided that it is 100% safe, he should GO.
“Once you have made your decision to go, where should you be looking?”
“Ahead”
“Ok, good. So what would happen if had decided to go, but, because you were looking right, you saw a car coming round the roundabout?”
“I don’t know” (At least he was honest).
“Exactly, and if you don’t know now, you won’t know when you have to make a split-second decision on a roundabout, will you?”
We encountered numerous roundabouts after that. I had to keep guiding him because he still had this tendency to look to the right after he had decided to ‘go’, and he knew he was doing it. It got better, but I will keep my eye on that next lesson.
As I said, a slightly curious one. It is more common for drivers (and not just learners) not to give enough attention to traffic on the right.
A related problem is indecision when a pupil is just about to go through a pedestrian crossing, or traffic lights, when the lights change to amber. Hesitation could cause the driver to brake, accelerate, brake again, and end up stopped beyond the stop line. As with T-junctions and roundabouts, the key is to have made up your mind whether you are ‘staying or going’ before the lights change.
Rather than cheesily suggest the obvious track, here is a much better ditty from The Clash www.last.fm/music/The+Clash/_/I+Fought+the+Law
A slightly curious one this morning. A pupil, who is only a couple of lessons away from their test, has become overcautious at roundabouts. Not in the usual meaning though, where they stop at roundabouts and wait unnecessarily, missing gap after gap.
He had a nice approach; checking his mirrors, signalling in good time, confirming his position, slowing down, selecting the appropriate gear and looking for his gap. So far, so good. Then, for some reason, he sees his gap, accelerates, but keeps looking to the right (for any vehicles that he may have missed).
It was too important for me to discuss while on the move, so I pulled him over and discussed it.
“When you are approaching a T-junction, where should you stop if it is not safe to go?”
“Behind the give-way line.”
“Good. So, how do you decide if it is safe to go?”
“If I can move off without causing other vehicles to change speed or direction.” (Admittedly, he wasn’t really giving me these textbook answers, but he was giving me the correct answers).
“Is there a give-way line at a roundabout?”
“Yes.”
“So is it any different?”
“No.”
The point I was trying to make was that he should be making a decision to slow down/stop or go before the give-way line. Once he has decided that it is 100% safe, he should GO.
“Once you have made your decision to go, where should you be looking?”
“Ahead”
“Ok, good. So what would happen if had decided to go, but, because you were looking right, you saw a car coming round the roundabout?”
“I don’t know” (At least he was honest).
“Exactly, and if you don’t know now, you won’t know when you have to make a split-second decision on a roundabout, will you?”
We encountered numerous roundabouts after that. I had to keep guiding him because he still had this tendency to look to the right after he had decided to ‘go’, and he knew he was doing it. It got better, but I will keep my eye on that next lesson.
As I said, a slightly curious one. It is more common for drivers (and not just learners) not to give enough attention to traffic on the right.
A related problem is indecision when a pupil is just about to go through a pedestrian crossing, or traffic lights, when the lights change to amber. Hesitation could cause the driver to brake, accelerate, brake again, and end up stopped beyond the stop line. As with T-junctions and roundabouts, the key is to have made up your mind whether you are ‘staying or going’ before the lights change.
Rather than cheesily suggest the obvious track, here is a much better ditty from The Clash www.last.fm/music/The+Clash/_/I+Fought+the+Law
Friday, 2 October 2009
Metamorphosis
I need a little time To think it over
I need a little space Just on my own
I need a little time To find my freedom
I need a little...
Ok, stop. Where do you think our relationship is going? What do you want from our relationship?
Yesterday I blethered on about my ‘favourites’; the pupils who have made a commitment to learn to drive, and to be good drivers. I am in a relationship, an interdependency, a symbiosis with them. They have thought about what they want to get out of the relationship and are happy to pay me a significant amount of money. In return, they expect me to transform them from an ugly duckling, who staggers all over the road and has little control over their feet, to a graceful swan, who glides effortlessly along the roads and highways. They don’t think that it is ok to pay me less money just to get them to the stage of a clumsy, adolescent swan.
If you are learning to drive, are thinking of learning to drive, or are parents of potential learners, then we need to get one thing straight. This will cost money. Most instructors will offer a discount if you book, and pre-pay, a block of lessons (usually ten or more). Therefore, if you can afford it, this is the most cost-effective way to learn. The Government’s website (http://www.direct.gov.uk/en/Motoring/LearnerAndNewDrivers/PracticalTest/DG_4022483) says “Those who pass their driving test have had, on average, about 45 hours of professional training combined with 22 hours of private practice. Learners who prepare this way, with a combination of plenty of professional training and plenty of practice, do better in the test.” This is quite a shock to some parents. Many say “But, it only took me ten hours of lessons for me to pass my test!” Great. Bully for you. You were lucky to take your test when it was so much easier (as I did). So… 45 hours. If you get a good block discount, that will still cost you over £1,000 (£1,012 in my case). That, as I said earlier, is a significant amount of money. Then again, you could spend that much on 10 cigarettes a day for a year, a nice holiday or a decent telly, but you would spend the rest of your life relying on friends, taxis and public transport.
I have had to spend thousands of pounds learning how to teach people how to drive, so you are getting a bargain, even if it takes you more than 45 hours to learn to drive.
I have already moaned about a couple of pupils who want to take a chance on the test, despite me telling them that they are not ready. A couple of months back, I gave a pupil 12 hours of lessons. When I talked to her about booking the following week’s lessons, she said that she could not really afford it, and could she wait until she had passed her theory? Fine. I would rather she was honest than make excuses on the day of the lesson. Last night I had a call from her husband saying that she had passed her theory test, so should he book her driving test. I was straight with him, “No, not yet. She is not ready. She needs more lessons.” “But we can’t really afford more lessons and she wants to pass her test.”
The key word here is pass. I can’t stop her taking her test (in her own car). Go ahead, make the instructor’s day (it won’t). But it is a false economy. The test costs over £60 now. A few fails will be more expensive than a block of lessons.
I really wanted to say “Ok, book the test, but you’re on your own, I don’t want to know”, but I’m not like that. I suggested that he should try and teach her as much as possible in his car, but try to book as many lessons with me as they can afford. He will ‘get back to me’. That’s fine with me, I can spend my time concentrating on pupils who are intelligent enough to accept that this is an important, life-changing (life-saving) skill, which is more important than most other things they could spend their spare money on.
Times are tough for many people. Some of my pupils have to work over four hours just to pay for one hour’s driving lesson. So, if you are not a Premiership footballer, or a politician with an unlimited expense account, then just accept the fact that it may take a while to be good enough to pass your test. Can you afford a tenner a week? Then book one hour’s lesson a fortnight. What do you think? Or you could ignore me - what do I know - and book your test, fail it a few times, give up, spend more money on public transport and, a few years later go through the whole process again. Far-fetched? Unfortunately not. There are far too many ugly ducklings out there who could easily be beautiful swans with a bit of commitment on their part.
I need a little space Just on my own
I need a little time To find my freedom
I need a little...
Ok, stop. Where do you think our relationship is going? What do you want from our relationship?
Yesterday I blethered on about my ‘favourites’; the pupils who have made a commitment to learn to drive, and to be good drivers. I am in a relationship, an interdependency, a symbiosis with them. They have thought about what they want to get out of the relationship and are happy to pay me a significant amount of money. In return, they expect me to transform them from an ugly duckling, who staggers all over the road and has little control over their feet, to a graceful swan, who glides effortlessly along the roads and highways. They don’t think that it is ok to pay me less money just to get them to the stage of a clumsy, adolescent swan.
If you are learning to drive, are thinking of learning to drive, or are parents of potential learners, then we need to get one thing straight. This will cost money. Most instructors will offer a discount if you book, and pre-pay, a block of lessons (usually ten or more). Therefore, if you can afford it, this is the most cost-effective way to learn. The Government’s website (http://www.direct.gov.uk/en/Motoring/LearnerAndNewDrivers/PracticalTest/DG_4022483) says “Those who pass their driving test have had, on average, about 45 hours of professional training combined with 22 hours of private practice. Learners who prepare this way, with a combination of plenty of professional training and plenty of practice, do better in the test.” This is quite a shock to some parents. Many say “But, it only took me ten hours of lessons for me to pass my test!” Great. Bully for you. You were lucky to take your test when it was so much easier (as I did). So… 45 hours. If you get a good block discount, that will still cost you over £1,000 (£1,012 in my case). That, as I said earlier, is a significant amount of money. Then again, you could spend that much on 10 cigarettes a day for a year, a nice holiday or a decent telly, but you would spend the rest of your life relying on friends, taxis and public transport.
I have had to spend thousands of pounds learning how to teach people how to drive, so you are getting a bargain, even if it takes you more than 45 hours to learn to drive.
I have already moaned about a couple of pupils who want to take a chance on the test, despite me telling them that they are not ready. A couple of months back, I gave a pupil 12 hours of lessons. When I talked to her about booking the following week’s lessons, she said that she could not really afford it, and could she wait until she had passed her theory? Fine. I would rather she was honest than make excuses on the day of the lesson. Last night I had a call from her husband saying that she had passed her theory test, so should he book her driving test. I was straight with him, “No, not yet. She is not ready. She needs more lessons.” “But we can’t really afford more lessons and she wants to pass her test.”
The key word here is pass. I can’t stop her taking her test (in her own car). Go ahead, make the instructor’s day (it won’t). But it is a false economy. The test costs over £60 now. A few fails will be more expensive than a block of lessons.
I really wanted to say “Ok, book the test, but you’re on your own, I don’t want to know”, but I’m not like that. I suggested that he should try and teach her as much as possible in his car, but try to book as many lessons with me as they can afford. He will ‘get back to me’. That’s fine with me, I can spend my time concentrating on pupils who are intelligent enough to accept that this is an important, life-changing (life-saving) skill, which is more important than most other things they could spend their spare money on.
Times are tough for many people. Some of my pupils have to work over four hours just to pay for one hour’s driving lesson. So, if you are not a Premiership footballer, or a politician with an unlimited expense account, then just accept the fact that it may take a while to be good enough to pass your test. Can you afford a tenner a week? Then book one hour’s lesson a fortnight. What do you think? Or you could ignore me - what do I know - and book your test, fail it a few times, give up, spend more money on public transport and, a few years later go through the whole process again. Far-fetched? Unfortunately not. There are far too many ugly ducklings out there who could easily be beautiful swans with a bit of commitment on their part.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
You're my favourite
Talking of favourites....I don’t tell her this (although I think she knows), but out of our three dogs, Doris, the terrier is my favourite. I love her character, but then I love Daphne and Jilly’s character too; I suspect it is just that we got Doris before the other two.
I know I shouldn’t, but I also have favourites when it comes to my pupils too.
Tuesday was a good day; I had five of my favourite pupils:
First, Michaela. She has booked 25 hours of lessons over a period of twelve days, but she is one of my favourites because she analyses every aspect of her driving (almost too much, Michaela).
Second, Glynn. Test booked in just over a week. Very cheerful and we have interesting chats about being a chef.
Next, Anna. Always smiling and always looking to improve.
Then, Adam. Very polite and committed to being the best driver he can possibly be. Always looking to learn from every situation.
Finally, Daisy. Wanted to pass before the summer, but lost the race against time due to giving birth (her baby was so inconsiderate).
Wednesday was equally chock-full of favourites:
First, Nicola. Used to work in The Swan, Northall, England, where I have enjoyed the odd half-pint.
Then, Maureen. Nice to see smiling Maureen for the first time in three months (due to illness). She drove as though she had never been away.
Next, Ashley. Complete with new hairdo, Ashley is possibly the most natural driver I have ever taught….. Unfortunately, the theory test does not come naturally to her.
Finally, Erin. Recently accepted to study Medicine at uni’, but taking a gap year to work in a medical centre in Cambodia, so we have lots of interesting chats about foreign climes.
Today is bulging with favourites, too. And so is tomorrow. In fact, a bit like Brucie on Strictly…, they are really all my favourites. Well….. All except the odd one that pesters me to let them take their test before they are ready.
Cheeky
My favourite 'cheeky quote' (see left side of blog) so far:
I hate housework. You make the beds, you do the dishes - and six months later you have to start all over again.
Joan Rivers
(I wonder why Jane would roll her eyes at the fact that this is my favourite?)
I hate housework. You make the beds, you do the dishes - and six months later you have to start all over again.
Joan Rivers
(I wonder why Jane would roll her eyes at the fact that this is my favourite?)
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