I sometimes wonder what goes through the minds of friends and family - that I haven’t really seen too much of since I moved to the better side of the border - when they read my blog (if they read my blog). At the risk of opening a HUGE can of worms, they will have memories of me racing around in my various Fiats/Fords/Mazdas, not entirely with due care and attention; they may have witnessed me ‘singing’ or ‘dancing’ in public (thankfully in the days before YouTube); and… they may recall me swimming across frozen lakes, failing to stay on a bicycle, crawling around a pub on my hands and knees, running down the middle of Wareham High Street in the style of Superman, or falling asleep for 29 hours………. All as a result of a little drink or two. Then again…. who hasn’t done those things? (anyone???)
The reason I write this is because it is Saturday night, there are several enticing pubs within three minutes walk of here (I am back in Ullapool), and yet, here I sit, with Strictly…./X-Factor/I’m a celebrity…./Match of the Day/The thick of it for my entertainment, and mugs of coffee as my drink of choice. I know I know…. I’m not 19 anymore (as Jane often reminds me) - at least, not physically. But it is a bit sad, isn’t it? I’m even missing (Inverness) BSM’s Xmas bash tonight. To further rub it in, the landlady of the B&B I am staying in says the earliest I can have breakfast tomorrow is half-past eight, ‘because she is going out for a drink tonight’.
But it’s not sad. Becoming a driving instructor was the best career decision I ever made, and that brings responsibilities. I had an hour’s gap before today’s last lesson, so I went to The Ceilidh Place for dinner. I would have loved a beer (even just a half-pint), but I’m NEVER going to turn up for a lesson with even the faintest whiff of alcohol on me, so it was mineral water for me. Equally, I have lessons in the morning, so I cannot afford to really have a drink tonight either. Face it, would you want your son/daughter’s instructor smelling of alcohol?
Consequently, where, once upon a time, a Saturday night blog might have looked like this,
“WOWW waht a great nigh thatwas………………… U sshuold have seeen it when squirty && i were danc ing on thetable !!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
You now have to endure my sober musings on the crap on telly.
Strictly….. I’m losing interest now. Despite the racism-row, the injuries, Arlene being sacked and, now, Ricky being arrested on suspicion of assault, it still seems to be getting a little….. dull. Actually, maybe I’m being unfair because Chris and Ola’s Charleston was definitely not dull. In fact, there were parts of it which wouldn’t have been out of place on the television stations favoured by MPs’ husbands. But, apart from that, it’s not the same now that Tuffers and the other, sweatier, Ricky have gone.
X Factor…… It’s rubbish, isn’t it. You can imagine the original pitch: “We are going to find someone different, someone who stands out, someone with that je ne sais quoi…… someone with….. THE X FACTOR.” Instead, we get a parade of variably talented people, who have any traces of originality squeezed out of them by the format and the ‘mentors’. You end up with a karaoke show which merely highlights why acts such as Queen, George Michael, Elton John and even Take That didn’t need any help from the likes of Cowell and co. You have to admit, despite the hairstyle, Simon Cowell is a clever man; but I can’t think of anyone I would be more embarrassed to have as my dad. The other week he actually used the word “chicks”, then, tonight, he prefaced his critique with lecherous comments about the “cute” girl in the audience (the camera didn’t show the girl failing to hold back the vomit).
I’m a celebrity get me out of here…….. Well, in my limited experience, it is certainly the best of all the reality TV shows; a much more interesting scenario than simply sticking people in a house. And Ant & Dec are more talented than I think they are generally given credit for. People moan about the Z-list celebrities, but would it really be that much better if it were Tom Cruise, Whitney Houston and Simon Cowell were in there instead of Joe Bugner, Gino Di Campo and Samantha Fox?
Having said that, I’ve had an idea: If the Government are serious about tackling ‘binge-drinking’ they should insist that Simon Cowell sits in the jungle, chewing Kangaroo anuses every Saturday night. Who would rather go out to the pub than watch that?
Sunday 29 November 2009
Friday 27 November 2009
Bigmouth strikes again
I should have kept my mouth shut. Just the other day I said “(Being with BSM,) I like the peace of mind in knowing I can just pick up the phone and instantly get the problem sorted…” (whenever there is a problem with the car). This was after a new pupil had accelerated into the curb, bursting a tyre and denting the wheel. On Monday I called the approved Vauxhall dealer in Inverness to request a new wheel and to book a 20,000 mile service. They could fit me in Wednesday. Perfect.
I went to collect my car, only to find that, although they had done the service (and replaced the brake pads - which they had to get authorisation from BSM for), they had not changed the wheel because it had not yet been ordered. I found it slightly strange that, somewhere in the largest Vauxhall dealer within 100 miles, they did not have a replacement wheel for perhaps their biggest-selling car. Now, I don’t know about you, but I would have hoped that, when I called and asked for a new wheel, after they had a look under the desks and behind the coffee machine for any spare Corsa wheels that may have been hiding, they would have ordered it there and then. Or is that just a bit too radical?
“Well, when will you get one in?”
“”Hopefully next week.” was the reply.
When they started saying ‘hopefully…’ I was expecting ‘this afternoon’ or maybe ‘tomorrow’. Not ‘…next week’!
As you can imagine, since ‘the wheel incident’, I have been a little edgy when I feel that my pupils are getting a little too close to the curb. I may be able to change a wheel, but (without a spare), I certainly cannot teach pupils to drive with only three wheels.
Yesterday afternoon I picked up another new pupil for his first lesson. I drove to Stevenson Road, a nice, straight road with a very quiet roundabout at one end - perfect for practising moving off/stopping and then practising steering. He picked things up very quickly and seemed to have little problem with clutch control, changing gears or steering - fantastic for a first lesson. As we neared the end of the lesson I was backing off the instruction, trying to let him do repetitions of the same ‘loop’ with occasional prompts from me. We turned right at the roundabout then, as he started to accelerate away from the junction he chose the wrong moment to look down at the gearstick. WHAM! We hit the curb. My heart was in my mouth. Luckily, I had just got to the wheel in time; not enough to avoid the curb, but enough make sure it was only a glancing blow, and not full-on. Twice in a few days, I couldn’t believe it. Fortunately, an inspection of the wheel revealed that it was fine this time.
At least I don’t have to worry about the wheel, as far as tests are concerned. WRONG! My next pupil on test is Anna, next Tuesday. At least… that was the case until last night, when Glynn called me to ask if I could take him for test today! He had been looking for cancellations so that he might bring his (3rd) test forward and had found two today; one at 9.37am and one at 1.03pm. By pure chance, the 1.03pm slot fitted in perfectly with the only gap in today’s diary, so I said he could go ahead and book it. The wheel is not a problem because it is a proper wheel (not a silly ‘space-saver’ spare wheel), but (without a spare) I made sure I had my foot over the dual brake during the whole of today’s first lesson (with Andrea).
Glynn drove like a dream during his pre-test lesson, but not during his test: He failed to recognize the road markings at the end of a one-way street and, when the examiner asked him to turn right, he did not position himself correctly in the right-hand lane; potentially dangerous if another vehicle turning right had positioned themselves alongside. He was relatively buoyant afterwards, “My oldest sister passed 1st time, my second-oldest sister passed 2nd time and my youngest sister passed 3rd time, so I had a feeling I wouldn’t pass today…. 4th time lucky.” He suggested. Sounds a little like b*ll*cks to me Glynn, but at least you are being positive about your next attempt.
‘Positive’ is not exactly how I would describe my thoughts, as I head back to Ullapool this weekend, on being that far away without a spare wheel.
I went to collect my car, only to find that, although they had done the service (and replaced the brake pads - which they had to get authorisation from BSM for), they had not changed the wheel because it had not yet been ordered. I found it slightly strange that, somewhere in the largest Vauxhall dealer within 100 miles, they did not have a replacement wheel for perhaps their biggest-selling car. Now, I don’t know about you, but I would have hoped that, when I called and asked for a new wheel, after they had a look under the desks and behind the coffee machine for any spare Corsa wheels that may have been hiding, they would have ordered it there and then. Or is that just a bit too radical?
“Well, when will you get one in?”
“”Hopefully next week.” was the reply.
When they started saying ‘hopefully…’ I was expecting ‘this afternoon’ or maybe ‘tomorrow’. Not ‘…next week’!
As you can imagine, since ‘the wheel incident’, I have been a little edgy when I feel that my pupils are getting a little too close to the curb. I may be able to change a wheel, but (without a spare), I certainly cannot teach pupils to drive with only three wheels.
Yesterday afternoon I picked up another new pupil for his first lesson. I drove to Stevenson Road, a nice, straight road with a very quiet roundabout at one end - perfect for practising moving off/stopping and then practising steering. He picked things up very quickly and seemed to have little problem with clutch control, changing gears or steering - fantastic for a first lesson. As we neared the end of the lesson I was backing off the instruction, trying to let him do repetitions of the same ‘loop’ with occasional prompts from me. We turned right at the roundabout then, as he started to accelerate away from the junction he chose the wrong moment to look down at the gearstick. WHAM! We hit the curb. My heart was in my mouth. Luckily, I had just got to the wheel in time; not enough to avoid the curb, but enough make sure it was only a glancing blow, and not full-on. Twice in a few days, I couldn’t believe it. Fortunately, an inspection of the wheel revealed that it was fine this time.
At least I don’t have to worry about the wheel, as far as tests are concerned. WRONG! My next pupil on test is Anna, next Tuesday. At least… that was the case until last night, when Glynn called me to ask if I could take him for test today! He had been looking for cancellations so that he might bring his (3rd) test forward and had found two today; one at 9.37am and one at 1.03pm. By pure chance, the 1.03pm slot fitted in perfectly with the only gap in today’s diary, so I said he could go ahead and book it. The wheel is not a problem because it is a proper wheel (not a silly ‘space-saver’ spare wheel), but (without a spare) I made sure I had my foot over the dual brake during the whole of today’s first lesson (with Andrea).
Glynn drove like a dream during his pre-test lesson, but not during his test: He failed to recognize the road markings at the end of a one-way street and, when the examiner asked him to turn right, he did not position himself correctly in the right-hand lane; potentially dangerous if another vehicle turning right had positioned themselves alongside. He was relatively buoyant afterwards, “My oldest sister passed 1st time, my second-oldest sister passed 2nd time and my youngest sister passed 3rd time, so I had a feeling I wouldn’t pass today…. 4th time lucky.” He suggested. Sounds a little like b*ll*cks to me Glynn, but at least you are being positive about your next attempt.
‘Positive’ is not exactly how I would describe my thoughts, as I head back to Ullapool this weekend, on being that far away without a spare wheel.
Tuesday 24 November 2009
Three wheels on my wagon.
When times are tough you start to envy undertakers and those employed by the Inland Revenue. As Benjamin Franklin said, 'nothing is more certain than death and taxes'. But, you would think that a driving instructor would also have a fairly steady stream of customers. There is no seasonality to people reaching the age of 17. Somehow, it doesn't quite work out like that.
Being a BSM franchisee, I pay a chunky wad each week to BSM. In return, I expect a new, 'fit-for-purpose' car (and, yes, I do include the Fiat 500 in that particular Venn diagram). I also expect a reasonably full diary, populated with pupils who have come to me via BSM. Many instructors are complaining that BSM are not providing them with enough pupils. Here is my suggestion: Instead of wasting hours on BSM's forum, complaining about the lack of pupils, or wasting hours watching Jordan getting covered in spider-encrusted goo (again), why not spend that time knocking up a nice poster to advertise your undoubted skills as a driving instructor? Why not get online and get yourself listed on Google, Yell and all the other free listings? Perhaps more importantly, why not try to make yourself the World's Greatest Driving Instructor and make your pupils look forward to their driving lessons. Praise them when they do well, be constructive when they are not doing so well and do all you can to make your lessons valuable and enjoyable.
In an earlier post, I mentioned that, due to having several pupils pass their test, I now had large gaps in my diary. Recently I have listed my services on Google et al, made posters and complained to the office about the lack of pupils (don't worry, they like, and expect, a bit of abuse in the office). BSM have also been running a really good promotion, 10 hours for £189. Unfortunately, none of this seemed to bring in more pupils. So when I heard about the 'lack of instructor' situation in Ullapool, I decided it was worth my while travelling the 160 mile round-trip to find more work. What worried me about this decision was that, with 5 of my 6 Ullapool pupils taking their test, I may have commited myself to travelling to Ullapool for one pupil.
Suddenly, last Friday, my phone went mad. I had six people calling to ask about driving lessons; all in Ullapool. Whenever I asked them where they had got my number from they just said 'Oh, a friend', or 'My daughter's best friend's neighbour' (or similar). I told them all about BSM's offer and several of them booked up there and then. Consequently, I was able to go to Ullapool yesterday with a very full day of lessons booked.
The first lesson was with one of these new pupils. She had never even sat in the driver seat before so I had to start with the very basics (Cockpit drill and controls). We progressed to moving off and stopping. This wasn't too bad, but she was wildly oversteering. On one occasion she moved off and was heading over to the right; when I asked her to bring the car back to the left she turned very sharply to the left and put her foot down on the accelerator. I immediately went for the brake but, too late. WHAM! We hit the curb, burst the front left tyre, dented the wheel, then watched the hubcap roll drunkenly down the road. My poor pupil was very apologetic but I tried to assure her that it was my fault for not getting on the brake in time. Not something I usually incorporate into my lessons, but she learned how to change a wheel (while I learned that changing a wheel would be much easier if I kept my car boot tidy).
Two lessons later Jayanne asked what had happened with the 'wheel incident'. I assumed she must have been walking nearby, but she said that the other pupil was a friend and had called her after the lesson. Later in her lesson she waved at someone in a passsing car and said "That's Karen, your next (new) pupil after my lesson." She seemed to know my diary better than I did. It turns out that I must thank Jayanne. It appears she was happy enough with her first lesson (two weeks ago) to recommend me to some of her friends, hence the rash of new pupils in Ullapool (with more to come, according to Jayanne).
A couple of weeks ago, while Ashley was making short work of her test, I was talking to Morrison at the test centre. Morrison used to be with BSM until he decided to go independent a couple of years ago. We talked about business levels and how he kept busy. He explained that, although he had spent money on advertising in Yellow Pages etc, he estimated that about 90% of his pupils came via recommendations from previous pupils. He obviously doesn't regret his decision to leave BSM and suggested that, if I am getting personal recommendations, I should do the same. I don't think so, at least not yet. I like the peace of mind in knowing I can just pick up the phone and instantly get the problem sorted each time I have a 'wheel incident'.
Being a BSM franchisee, I pay a chunky wad each week to BSM. In return, I expect a new, 'fit-for-purpose' car (and, yes, I do include the Fiat 500 in that particular Venn diagram). I also expect a reasonably full diary, populated with pupils who have come to me via BSM. Many instructors are complaining that BSM are not providing them with enough pupils. Here is my suggestion: Instead of wasting hours on BSM's forum, complaining about the lack of pupils, or wasting hours watching Jordan getting covered in spider-encrusted goo (again), why not spend that time knocking up a nice poster to advertise your undoubted skills as a driving instructor? Why not get online and get yourself listed on Google, Yell and all the other free listings? Perhaps more importantly, why not try to make yourself the World's Greatest Driving Instructor and make your pupils look forward to their driving lessons. Praise them when they do well, be constructive when they are not doing so well and do all you can to make your lessons valuable and enjoyable.
In an earlier post, I mentioned that, due to having several pupils pass their test, I now had large gaps in my diary. Recently I have listed my services on Google et al, made posters and complained to the office about the lack of pupils (don't worry, they like, and expect, a bit of abuse in the office). BSM have also been running a really good promotion, 10 hours for £189. Unfortunately, none of this seemed to bring in more pupils. So when I heard about the 'lack of instructor' situation in Ullapool, I decided it was worth my while travelling the 160 mile round-trip to find more work. What worried me about this decision was that, with 5 of my 6 Ullapool pupils taking their test, I may have commited myself to travelling to Ullapool for one pupil.
Suddenly, last Friday, my phone went mad. I had six people calling to ask about driving lessons; all in Ullapool. Whenever I asked them where they had got my number from they just said 'Oh, a friend', or 'My daughter's best friend's neighbour' (or similar). I told them all about BSM's offer and several of them booked up there and then. Consequently, I was able to go to Ullapool yesterday with a very full day of lessons booked.
The first lesson was with one of these new pupils. She had never even sat in the driver seat before so I had to start with the very basics (Cockpit drill and controls). We progressed to moving off and stopping. This wasn't too bad, but she was wildly oversteering. On one occasion she moved off and was heading over to the right; when I asked her to bring the car back to the left she turned very sharply to the left and put her foot down on the accelerator. I immediately went for the brake but, too late. WHAM! We hit the curb, burst the front left tyre, dented the wheel, then watched the hubcap roll drunkenly down the road. My poor pupil was very apologetic but I tried to assure her that it was my fault for not getting on the brake in time. Not something I usually incorporate into my lessons, but she learned how to change a wheel (while I learned that changing a wheel would be much easier if I kept my car boot tidy).
Two lessons later Jayanne asked what had happened with the 'wheel incident'. I assumed she must have been walking nearby, but she said that the other pupil was a friend and had called her after the lesson. Later in her lesson she waved at someone in a passsing car and said "That's Karen, your next (new) pupil after my lesson." She seemed to know my diary better than I did. It turns out that I must thank Jayanne. It appears she was happy enough with her first lesson (two weeks ago) to recommend me to some of her friends, hence the rash of new pupils in Ullapool (with more to come, according to Jayanne).
A couple of weeks ago, while Ashley was making short work of her test, I was talking to Morrison at the test centre. Morrison used to be with BSM until he decided to go independent a couple of years ago. We talked about business levels and how he kept busy. He explained that, although he had spent money on advertising in Yellow Pages etc, he estimated that about 90% of his pupils came via recommendations from previous pupils. He obviously doesn't regret his decision to leave BSM and suggested that, if I am getting personal recommendations, I should do the same. I don't think so, at least not yet. I like the peace of mind in knowing I can just pick up the phone and instantly get the problem sorted each time I have a 'wheel incident'.
Wednesday 18 November 2009
Live action (almost) as it happens, from Ullapool.
Forget 'Super Sunday', today is 'Wonderful Wednesday'. No less than FIVE pupils taking their test today - all of them first attempts. So, fingers crossed for Sam, Katie, Connie, Andy and Catriona. Here is how the day's thrilling events unfold:
5.33am: Although I set my alarm for 5.30am, I woke around 4.30am and decided it was a bit risky trying to get back to sleep for another hour; I might not wake up. Usually our three dogs leap from their bed, tails wagging gleefully, when I come downstairs in the morning, but today I swear they looked at the clock before looking up at me with a ‘What? Go back to bed and leave us alone’ look. Even Jilly - who lives in eternal hope that someone will throw her a crumb - couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.
10.52am: I am sitting on the ground in an Ullapool car park, with my paperwork beneath me for comfort; there is no nice, cosy waiting-room at Ullapool Test Centre. Just a car park owned by a pottery shop. Sam has just gone out on his test after a reassuring lesson (not that that means anything). People are giving me strange looks as they pull into the car park, but I am more concerned about the fact that I have left my mobile at home, with no means of contact between my pupils and me on a day when four more of them are taking their tests. I will have to find a pay phone.
12.01pm: So far, so good. Only a few cirrus clouds decorate the sky, and the mountains are bathed in a clear, golden light. The pupils are doing well too. Sam passed quite easily, only a few minor faults. Then, while I took Connie out for her pre-test lesson, Katie also passed (in her own car). I have to admit, I am slightly less confident about Connie. Her manoeuvres and emergency stop are fine, better than Sam’s, but she just lacks confidence. She does know what to do, but, because her instruction had been so regimented - so reliant on reference points - she is still asking for confirmation on when to be in which gear, and when to start braking etc. Hopefully, it is just nerves and, hopefully, she shook off those nerves once she got underway, but we can only wait and see. A couple of tour coaches have parked at the harbour, so the village is now full of elderly tourists crossing the roads without looking. Connie is a very vigilant driver though, so I am hoping she will get a chance to display her awareness.
1.39pm: I guess it was too much to hope for a clean sweep. Sadly, Connie didn’t pass. She got asked to do a ‘Turn in the road’ early on in the test. She did it, but obviously not as well as she usually does because it played on her mind and she began worrying whether she had already failed (she hadn’t, she only picked up a minor fault for control). This led to her making mistakes and she failed for not changing down, from 4th, to an appropriate gear (2nd in this case) when she got stuck behind a slow-moving vehicle. She seems ok, and I told her to re-book her test as soon as possible, but she may have to wait until next year to get another shot at the test in Ullapool (only 7 tests a month).
I then picked Catriona up for a quick hour’s lesson. She is a much more confident driver and wants me to sit in the back, during her test, ‘so that she can have someone to chat to.’ I am always happy to sit in the back if they want (it beats sitting in a car park), but I will not be allowed to say anything unless the examiner talks directly to me. I am not allowed to move or give any signals (such as a Charles Ingram-style cough).
Earlier I found a phonebox and called Andy, but no reply, so I left a message saying that I would pick him up from the supermarket at 1.25pm (hoping desperately that he would get the message). I got to the supermarket at 1.26pm and no sign of Andy. I took a chance and drove the quarter of a mile to the Test Centre and was hugely relieved to see him standing there, waiting. We only had two minutes before the test, so it was a very rushed run-through of the ‘show me, tell me’ questions. I feel sorry for him that he was not able to get a drive before his test - I wouldn’t like to go out on test ‘cold’. Fortunately, it has no clouded over, which means that there will be less problems with visibility for Andy. It does mean that it is a wee bit chilly for me though, out here in the car park.
3.14pm: That’s it. The end of the tests. Unfortunately Andy did not pass. I think it is partly because he did not get the chance to have an hour before his test. He had been practising in his girlfriend’s car, which obviously had brakes less sharp than mine. So, at the start of his test, he picked up a serious fault for braking too sharply. Again, I advised him to re-book as soon as possible, but I am concerned about the waiting time in Ullapool. The alternative is to take his test in Gairloch (which is an even smaller coastal village).
We had a happy ending though. Catriona passed with just three minor faults. She asked Ian, the examiner, if I could sit in the back, which pleased me because it was getting a bit chilly. Often, when I am sat in the back, I squirm with anxiety when the pupil does things they just don’t do in their lessons. However, it was almost a pleasure sitting in the back of Catriona’s test because she did (almost) everything perfectly - especially her reaction to pedestrians stepping out in front of her. Her only faults were a couple of mirror omissions and one gear fault.
It is now 3.21 and it is time for me to head back to Inverness. It feels strange that I still have one more lesson to go before I can head home. After that, although I say so myself, I think I deserve a slap-up meal (which Jane will, no doubt, have prepared) and a pint of Jennings Sneck Lifter.
I’ll leave with you with a question: Where does the phrase ‘slap-up meal’ originate from? (No, I don’t know, although I do know what a ‘Sneck Lifter’ is… I have come across many of them in my time).
5.33am: Although I set my alarm for 5.30am, I woke around 4.30am and decided it was a bit risky trying to get back to sleep for another hour; I might not wake up. Usually our three dogs leap from their bed, tails wagging gleefully, when I come downstairs in the morning, but today I swear they looked at the clock before looking up at me with a ‘What? Go back to bed and leave us alone’ look. Even Jilly - who lives in eternal hope that someone will throw her a crumb - couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.
10.52am: I am sitting on the ground in an Ullapool car park, with my paperwork beneath me for comfort; there is no nice, cosy waiting-room at Ullapool Test Centre. Just a car park owned by a pottery shop. Sam has just gone out on his test after a reassuring lesson (not that that means anything). People are giving me strange looks as they pull into the car park, but I am more concerned about the fact that I have left my mobile at home, with no means of contact between my pupils and me on a day when four more of them are taking their tests. I will have to find a pay phone.
12.01pm: So far, so good. Only a few cirrus clouds decorate the sky, and the mountains are bathed in a clear, golden light. The pupils are doing well too. Sam passed quite easily, only a few minor faults. Then, while I took Connie out for her pre-test lesson, Katie also passed (in her own car). I have to admit, I am slightly less confident about Connie. Her manoeuvres and emergency stop are fine, better than Sam’s, but she just lacks confidence. She does know what to do, but, because her instruction had been so regimented - so reliant on reference points - she is still asking for confirmation on when to be in which gear, and when to start braking etc. Hopefully, it is just nerves and, hopefully, she shook off those nerves once she got underway, but we can only wait and see. A couple of tour coaches have parked at the harbour, so the village is now full of elderly tourists crossing the roads without looking. Connie is a very vigilant driver though, so I am hoping she will get a chance to display her awareness.
1.39pm: I guess it was too much to hope for a clean sweep. Sadly, Connie didn’t pass. She got asked to do a ‘Turn in the road’ early on in the test. She did it, but obviously not as well as she usually does because it played on her mind and she began worrying whether she had already failed (she hadn’t, she only picked up a minor fault for control). This led to her making mistakes and she failed for not changing down, from 4th, to an appropriate gear (2nd in this case) when she got stuck behind a slow-moving vehicle. She seems ok, and I told her to re-book her test as soon as possible, but she may have to wait until next year to get another shot at the test in Ullapool (only 7 tests a month).
I then picked Catriona up for a quick hour’s lesson. She is a much more confident driver and wants me to sit in the back, during her test, ‘so that she can have someone to chat to.’ I am always happy to sit in the back if they want (it beats sitting in a car park), but I will not be allowed to say anything unless the examiner talks directly to me. I am not allowed to move or give any signals (such as a Charles Ingram-style cough).
Earlier I found a phonebox and called Andy, but no reply, so I left a message saying that I would pick him up from the supermarket at 1.25pm (hoping desperately that he would get the message). I got to the supermarket at 1.26pm and no sign of Andy. I took a chance and drove the quarter of a mile to the Test Centre and was hugely relieved to see him standing there, waiting. We only had two minutes before the test, so it was a very rushed run-through of the ‘show me, tell me’ questions. I feel sorry for him that he was not able to get a drive before his test - I wouldn’t like to go out on test ‘cold’. Fortunately, it has no clouded over, which means that there will be less problems with visibility for Andy. It does mean that it is a wee bit chilly for me though, out here in the car park.
3.14pm: That’s it. The end of the tests. Unfortunately Andy did not pass. I think it is partly because he did not get the chance to have an hour before his test. He had been practising in his girlfriend’s car, which obviously had brakes less sharp than mine. So, at the start of his test, he picked up a serious fault for braking too sharply. Again, I advised him to re-book as soon as possible, but I am concerned about the waiting time in Ullapool. The alternative is to take his test in Gairloch (which is an even smaller coastal village).
We had a happy ending though. Catriona passed with just three minor faults. She asked Ian, the examiner, if I could sit in the back, which pleased me because it was getting a bit chilly. Often, when I am sat in the back, I squirm with anxiety when the pupil does things they just don’t do in their lessons. However, it was almost a pleasure sitting in the back of Catriona’s test because she did (almost) everything perfectly - especially her reaction to pedestrians stepping out in front of her. Her only faults were a couple of mirror omissions and one gear fault.
It is now 3.21 and it is time for me to head back to Inverness. It feels strange that I still have one more lesson to go before I can head home. After that, although I say so myself, I think I deserve a slap-up meal (which Jane will, no doubt, have prepared) and a pint of Jennings Sneck Lifter.
I’ll leave with you with a question: Where does the phrase ‘slap-up meal’ originate from? (No, I don’t know, although I do know what a ‘Sneck Lifter’ is… I have come across many of them in my time).
Tuesday 17 November 2009
Pausing for breath
I hope you have enjoyed the last six days without any unwelcome intrusions from this blog. There simply wasn’t much time for me to sit on my backside and bash away at this keyboard.
Since my last post, I became a year older, took Mark, a new pupil, out for his first (very promising) lesson, then took Erin out for the first three hours of her Pass Plus course, dealing with dual-carriageways, town road systems, winding rural roads and the theory of motorways (no motorways for over 100 miles from here), then, after a quick cup of tea, Jane and I loaded our dogs in the back of Jane’s Nissan Navarra and drove for three hours down to Edinburgh (thank heavens for our sat-nav) to see The Specials, who were even better than I could possibly have hoped and had everyone (me included) feeling like we were 16 years-old and dancing away as though we were Jedward. A pleasant stay at a B&B then we spent the day driving around the Fife coast, with it’s charming fishing villages - Elie, St Monans, Pittenweem and, our favourite, Crail, where we sat outside (in mid-November!) on a tiny tearoom terrace, overlooking the sea, enjoying the sun and a cappuccino - and walking the dogs on the beaches before heading to Perth for a tasty Italian (Tagliatelle with wild goose) and to see the amazing Ladysmith Black Mambazo in concert (a birthday present from Mum. Thanks Mum) before the two and a half hour drive home over the Cairngorms, then five hours sleep and I was back on the road, this time to Hopeman, to give Ian a lesson, before heading west for the two hour drive to Ullapool for a couple of lessons, including a new pupil, Ryan, who was celebrating his 17th birthday, then I followed a very hesitant Renault, with blacked-out windows and “Wicked” sprayed across each side of the car (so it was a slight surprise to see an elderly couple getting out of it), before walking around Ullapool, in the rain, trying to find a B&B that was open out of season, with single rooms for a reasonable price. Creagan B&B was a real find, with Four-poster bed, huge bath, lots of goodies on the hospitality tray and a perfect full-Scottish breakfast, all for £30. Then a very busy day, with lessons for Sam, Catriona, Andy, Connie and Kirsty before the two hour drive home, passing the elderly couple in the ’Wicked’, blacked-out Renault on the way, for a wee dram of Laphroaig and a chance to finally switch off.
If that all sounded a bit hectic, you wait until tomorrow. My schedule for Wednesday is as follows:
5.50am - Wake up, wash, shave, dress, mug of tea, toast, kiss Jane.
6.00am - Drive to Ullapool.
8.30am - Sam’s lesson.
9.37am - Sam’s driving test.
10.30am - Connie’s lesson.
11.41am - Connie’s driving test.
12.30pm - Catriona’s lesson.
1.33pm - Andy’s driving test.
2.30pm - Catriona’s driving test.
3.30pm - drive back to Inverness.
5.30pm - Jamie’s lesson.
8.15pm - Home (…hopefully)
(For those of you not familiar with the DSA's 'unusual' test times, those times are genuine)
In addition, Kirsty, who had a lesson on Sunday, is also taking her test at 10.44, but in her own car. So, it promises to be an action-packed day, full of drama. I’m having trouble getting Sky to agree to live satellite coverage of the day - and I can’t get my mobile broadband dongle thingy to work in Ullapool - so I may not be able to bring you ‘as it happens’ commentary, but I’ll work something out.
Since my last post, I became a year older, took Mark, a new pupil, out for his first (very promising) lesson, then took Erin out for the first three hours of her Pass Plus course, dealing with dual-carriageways, town road systems, winding rural roads and the theory of motorways (no motorways for over 100 miles from here), then, after a quick cup of tea, Jane and I loaded our dogs in the back of Jane’s Nissan Navarra and drove for three hours down to Edinburgh (thank heavens for our sat-nav) to see The Specials, who were even better than I could possibly have hoped and had everyone (me included) feeling like we were 16 years-old and dancing away as though we were Jedward. A pleasant stay at a B&B then we spent the day driving around the Fife coast, with it’s charming fishing villages - Elie, St Monans, Pittenweem and, our favourite, Crail, where we sat outside (in mid-November!) on a tiny tearoom terrace, overlooking the sea, enjoying the sun and a cappuccino - and walking the dogs on the beaches before heading to Perth for a tasty Italian (Tagliatelle with wild goose) and to see the amazing Ladysmith Black Mambazo in concert (a birthday present from Mum. Thanks Mum) before the two and a half hour drive home over the Cairngorms, then five hours sleep and I was back on the road, this time to Hopeman, to give Ian a lesson, before heading west for the two hour drive to Ullapool for a couple of lessons, including a new pupil, Ryan, who was celebrating his 17th birthday, then I followed a very hesitant Renault, with blacked-out windows and “Wicked” sprayed across each side of the car (so it was a slight surprise to see an elderly couple getting out of it), before walking around Ullapool, in the rain, trying to find a B&B that was open out of season, with single rooms for a reasonable price. Creagan B&B was a real find, with Four-poster bed, huge bath, lots of goodies on the hospitality tray and a perfect full-Scottish breakfast, all for £30. Then a very busy day, with lessons for Sam, Catriona, Andy, Connie and Kirsty before the two hour drive home, passing the elderly couple in the ’Wicked’, blacked-out Renault on the way, for a wee dram of Laphroaig and a chance to finally switch off.
If that all sounded a bit hectic, you wait until tomorrow. My schedule for Wednesday is as follows:
5.50am - Wake up, wash, shave, dress, mug of tea, toast, kiss Jane.
6.00am - Drive to Ullapool.
8.30am - Sam’s lesson.
9.37am - Sam’s driving test.
10.30am - Connie’s lesson.
11.41am - Connie’s driving test.
12.30pm - Catriona’s lesson.
1.33pm - Andy’s driving test.
2.30pm - Catriona’s driving test.
3.30pm - drive back to Inverness.
5.30pm - Jamie’s lesson.
8.15pm - Home (…hopefully)
(For those of you not familiar with the DSA's 'unusual' test times, those times are genuine)
In addition, Kirsty, who had a lesson on Sunday, is also taking her test at 10.44, but in her own car. So, it promises to be an action-packed day, full of drama. I’m having trouble getting Sky to agree to live satellite coverage of the day - and I can’t get my mobile broadband dongle thingy to work in Ullapool - so I may not be able to bring you ‘as it happens’ commentary, but I’ll work something out.
Wednesday 11 November 2009
Take a Chill Pill
Ahhhh..... That's better. I have just popped home for a mug of Earl Grey and some Ginger biscuits and now I am super-calm.
So, how's your day? Bad day at work? Kids playing havoc? Partner stressing you out? Why not get in the car and go for a nice, relaxing drive. Take a good CD; no Buzzcocks, Metallica or Prodigy though. How about something laid back, like Central Reservation by Beth Orton (especially http://open.spotify.com/track/2lHHH2Sa4FhKwh5VS5T8It), or maybe Jane's favourite, Let's get it on by Marvin Gaye. Find a road where traffic is minimal and, ideally, where you can just leave it in 5th/6th gear for a while. How close are you to the car in front? 1 - 2 seconds? Drop back a bit; then, every time they brake you can just ease off the accelerator. Van behind getting too close? Drop back a bit more, give yourself even more time to react; if they want to overtake you, that's fine, you're not in any hurry. Are you getting into the music yet? How does that feel? It's quite relaxing not to be in any rush, not battling with other drivers.
Perhaps I should have given this advice yesterday. In fact, when I think about it, I did give this advice yesterday. I have just had one of my pupils take her test (2nd attempt). After her 1st attempt she was very, very upset, to the point of being angry (see my post on 5th Ocotber 2009). That time she failed for approaching a junction too fast and also for encroaching on the other side of the road on a bend. Times are hard, so she has not had a lesson since then (until yesterday), but has practicing with friends and family.
Yesterday she booked a two-hour lesson. She is a very confident and competent driver, but a bit too confident sometimes. She wanted me to give her a mock test, where I just give directions (no instruction). No problems on the manoeuvres, but she was still approaching junctions and other hazards too quickly. This was in her car (so no dual-controls) and, after I had to tell her to brake to avoid a meeting situation (when the road is not wide enough for both you and the oncoming vehicle), I asked her to pull over and switch off the engine.
"What's the hurry?" I asked.
"What have I done wrong?"
"Who had priority back there?"
"I don't know."
"Did you not see the sign ordering you to give way to oncoming traffic?"
"No."
"Ok, you need to keep an eye out for road signs. But could you not see that you were heading straight towards that other car?"
"Ermm. Perhaps I should put my contact lenses in."
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She got her lenses out of her handbag and put them in. I took a deep breath.
"Ok. We are going to forget this mock test. For the rest of the lesson we are going to work on your approach to junctions and other hazards. When you see anything that may cause you to slow down, I want you to check your mirrors and consider your approach. I don't want you coming up to junctions too quickly. I want you to bring your speed down early, select the appropriate gear, look early and then you may not even have to stop, if it is safe to go."
"But no-one drives like that" She complained.
"Yes they do, and, if they don't they should do. What is the point of rushing up to a junction and having to stop when, if you had brought your speed down earlier, you may have had time to see that the junction was clear?"
"But my Mum and none of my friends do that."
"So what would happen if you or they approached junctions too quickly and there was a bit of black ice in the road? Or the roads were wet?"
Silence.
She did make an effort to drive with more consideration for the rest of the lesson.
This morning I picked her up ten minutes before her test. She is the only pupil I have ever had who did not want an hour's lesson before her test. The short drive to the test centre was good and I praised her on her new approach. "Just keep it like that. Take your time. Concentrate and slow down in plenty of time.......... and you have got your contact lenses in, haven't you?!"
She failed. I had a chat with the examiner immdeiately after. She failed for coming up to a roundabout too quickly and deciding to go when a car was coming round, causing the other car to slow down. She also failed for driving at 25 mph in a 20mph zone.
"STUPID EFFING STUCK-UP BITCH!" Were her first words when I joined her in the car. "What right has that bitch got to fail me? I've got two kids who I need to drive around."
I had to consider my reply. She obviously was not in the mood for a calm reflection on what went wrong. "Did you not see the flashing 20mph sign?"
"Yes, but there was no-one around. If I had seen any kids I would have slowed down."
"And what about the roundabout? Did you think you had time to go, or do you think you may have been better waiting for a bigger gap?"
I don't know why I bothered. Any utterance from me was just a red rag to a bull.
"He was stupid. He didn't have to slow down that much."
Actually Daisy, I think you are the one who is stupid. Back at her house I left her, still swearing, boasting that she is just going to drive anyway. 'She doesn't have to wait for that effing examiner to tell her she can drive.' Ok, good idea. Just go ahead and drive your two young children around without a licence. Of course, you won't be insured, but you're not going to crash are you? Rushing up to junctions and meeting situations, braking harshly and not giving way when you should.
Iris is an experienced and fair driving examiner. I am a fully-qualified Approved Driving Instructor. However, you obviously know far more about driving than we do so, clearly, you no longer need my services.
I shouldn't have posted this. It's just wound me up. Still, it's nothing that a few more ginger biscuits and a nice, relaxing drive won't put right.
So, how's your day? Bad day at work? Kids playing havoc? Partner stressing you out? Why not get in the car and go for a nice, relaxing drive. Take a good CD; no Buzzcocks, Metallica or Prodigy though. How about something laid back, like Central Reservation by Beth Orton (especially http://open.spotify.com/track/2lHHH2Sa4FhKwh5VS5T8It), or maybe Jane's favourite, Let's get it on by Marvin Gaye. Find a road where traffic is minimal and, ideally, where you can just leave it in 5th/6th gear for a while. How close are you to the car in front? 1 - 2 seconds? Drop back a bit; then, every time they brake you can just ease off the accelerator. Van behind getting too close? Drop back a bit more, give yourself even more time to react; if they want to overtake you, that's fine, you're not in any hurry. Are you getting into the music yet? How does that feel? It's quite relaxing not to be in any rush, not battling with other drivers.
Perhaps I should have given this advice yesterday. In fact, when I think about it, I did give this advice yesterday. I have just had one of my pupils take her test (2nd attempt). After her 1st attempt she was very, very upset, to the point of being angry (see my post on 5th Ocotber 2009). That time she failed for approaching a junction too fast and also for encroaching on the other side of the road on a bend. Times are hard, so she has not had a lesson since then (until yesterday), but has practicing with friends and family.
Yesterday she booked a two-hour lesson. She is a very confident and competent driver, but a bit too confident sometimes. She wanted me to give her a mock test, where I just give directions (no instruction). No problems on the manoeuvres, but she was still approaching junctions and other hazards too quickly. This was in her car (so no dual-controls) and, after I had to tell her to brake to avoid a meeting situation (when the road is not wide enough for both you and the oncoming vehicle), I asked her to pull over and switch off the engine.
"What's the hurry?" I asked.
"Who had priority back there?"
"I don't know."
"Did you not see the sign ordering you to give way to oncoming traffic?"
"No."
"Ok, you need to keep an eye out for road signs. But could you not see that you were heading straight towards that other car?"
"Ermm. Perhaps I should put my contact lenses in."
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She got her lenses out of her handbag and put them in. I took a deep breath.
"Ok. We are going to forget this mock test. For the rest of the lesson we are going to work on your approach to junctions and other hazards. When you see anything that may cause you to slow down, I want you to check your mirrors and consider your approach. I don't want you coming up to junctions too quickly. I want you to bring your speed down early, select the appropriate gear, look early and then you may not even have to stop, if it is safe to go."
"But no-one drives like that" She complained.
"Yes they do, and, if they don't they should do. What is the point of rushing up to a junction and having to stop when, if you had brought your speed down earlier, you may have had time to see that the junction was clear?"
"But my Mum and none of my friends do that."
"So what would happen if you or they approached junctions too quickly and there was a bit of black ice in the road? Or the roads were wet?"
Silence.
She did make an effort to drive with more consideration for the rest of the lesson.
This morning I picked her up ten minutes before her test. She is the only pupil I have ever had who did not want an hour's lesson before her test. The short drive to the test centre was good and I praised her on her new approach. "Just keep it like that. Take your time. Concentrate and slow down in plenty of time.......... and you have got your contact lenses in, haven't you?!"
She failed. I had a chat with the examiner immdeiately after. She failed for coming up to a roundabout too quickly and deciding to go when a car was coming round, causing the other car to slow down. She also failed for driving at 25 mph in a 20mph zone.
"STUPID EFFING STUCK-UP BITCH!" Were her first words when I joined her in the car. "What right has that bitch got to fail me? I've got two kids who I need to drive around."
I had to consider my reply. She obviously was not in the mood for a calm reflection on what went wrong. "Did you not see the flashing 20mph sign?"
"Yes, but there was no-one around. If I had seen any kids I would have slowed down."
"And what about the roundabout? Did you think you had time to go, or do you think you may have been better waiting for a bigger gap?"
I don't know why I bothered. Any utterance from me was just a red rag to a bull.
"He was stupid. He didn't have to slow down that much."
Actually Daisy, I think you are the one who is stupid. Back at her house I left her, still swearing, boasting that she is just going to drive anyway. 'She doesn't have to wait for that effing examiner to tell her she can drive.' Ok, good idea. Just go ahead and drive your two young children around without a licence. Of course, you won't be insured, but you're not going to crash are you? Rushing up to junctions and meeting situations, braking harshly and not giving way when you should.
Iris is an experienced and fair driving examiner. I am a fully-qualified Approved Driving Instructor. However, you obviously know far more about driving than we do so, clearly, you no longer need my services.
I shouldn't have posted this. It's just wound me up. Still, it's nothing that a few more ginger biscuits and a nice, relaxing drive won't put right.
Sunday 8 November 2009
Fàilte gu Ullapul*
I’m on a bit of an adventure. Sort of. That is, if you count spending Saturday night in a seaside B&B ‘compact’ bedroom as an adventure. I am in Ullapool for the weekend. In case you don’t know, Ullapool is the most northerly town on the west coast, although its residents refer to it (more accurately) as a village. Unfortunately, I am not here for the Loopalu festival, or to do some hill walking, or even just sightseeing; I am here teaching.
Driving instructors have to pass three increasingly difficult tests to become a qualified instructor: Part 1 is an extended Theory Test; Part 2 is an extended driving test; and (the dreaded) Part 3 is a test of the instructor’s ability to teach. All three tests are far from easy, but Pt3 is the killer. I’m not sure of the exact figures, but I understand that the percentage of candidates that pass is less than 27%. Worse still, potential instructors only get three attempts each at parts 2 and 3. I have to admit, I didn’t pass my Part 3 first time, which put enormous pressure on my next attempt. If Parts 2 or 3 are failed three times, the candidate has to wait until two years after they passed Part 1 before they begin the whole process again. Many instructors (as I did) begin teaching soon after passing Part 2. They teach under a (pink) Provisional Licence for a period of six months, during which time they should pass their Part 3 to gain their Approved Driving Instructor licence (green). Many people sneer at the ‘pink’, including some driving schools. The fact is that, although they have not yet passed their final test of instructional ability, they have still received just as much training as any other instructor and will be as up-to-date as any instructor will.
So what does this have to do with Ullapool? Well, until recently, you could find out, but I have had to edit this page for legal reasons.
After so many years in the catering/hospitality industry, having Sundays off is still a novel luxury, but I’ll take the work whenever it is….. up to a point. Also, while it would be nice to have all my work centred within a 20 mile radius of our house, I have to accept that that aint gonna happen. I have recently stretched my area south to Aviemore/Grantown so why not expand it west to beautiful Ullapool? It is 79 miles from where I live, but it is 79 miles I can cover in about an hour and a half, and the drive is hardly a chore. Not long ago I had someone jokingly ask if I could teach her son…… in Manchester! (Were you joking Helen?) So, who knows?…. never say never.
The west coast of Scotland is THE most beautiful place in the world, I won’t listen to anyone who disagrees, especially on a day like today. I had to scrape the ice off my windscreen before Erin’s lesson in Inverness, but that was because of the crystal-clear skies. This meant that the drive over to Ullapool was an absolute joy. I used to love the drive west when I had my V6 Mazda and I would throw the car around those meandering curves between Contin and Loch Broom at speeds bordering on naughty. Today, however, I got my pleasure from sitting at 60mph and enjoying the sublime scenery. The road snakes alongside lochs and rivers with barely any other cars along the whole 57 miles, while light dustings of snow form crests on the highest of the surrounding mountains. Fifteen miles from Ullapool the road begins the long descent into Lochbroom and the views get even better with sunlight reflecting off the distant whitewashed cottages of Ullapool overlooking the loch.
What’s not to like about Ullapool? Ladies relax in the afternoon sun listening to Radio 4, colourful fishing boats bob gently by the quay, the last of the season’s tourists sit on benches eating the world’s best fish & chips, and have I mentioned the scenery? When I talked to Jane about coming over here at the weekends, she postulated moving to Ullapool for the short term. I didn’t give it serious thought at the time but, on days like today, it is very tempting.
On top of all that, it is always nice meeting new pupils and today’s lessons all went well. A nice meal at The Ceilidh Place ended the day and I have four new pupils to meet tomorrow. All in all, I am enjoying my weekend so far….. even Liverpool avoided losing (sssshhh….they didn’t actually play today).
Just one question: Why, when I am at home with Jane, is X Factor passable Saturday night telly, but, watching it alone, it is depressing dross?
(* Welcome to Ullapool)
So what does this have to do with Ullapool? Well, until recently, you could find out, but I have had to edit this page for legal reasons.
After so many years in the catering/hospitality industry, having Sundays off is still a novel luxury, but I’ll take the work whenever it is….. up to a point. Also, while it would be nice to have all my work centred within a 20 mile radius of our house, I have to accept that that aint gonna happen. I have recently stretched my area south to Aviemore/Grantown so why not expand it west to beautiful Ullapool? It is 79 miles from where I live, but it is 79 miles I can cover in about an hour and a half, and the drive is hardly a chore. Not long ago I had someone jokingly ask if I could teach her son…… in Manchester! (Were you joking Helen?) So, who knows?…. never say never.
The west coast of Scotland is THE most beautiful place in the world, I won’t listen to anyone who disagrees, especially on a day like today. I had to scrape the ice off my windscreen before Erin’s lesson in Inverness, but that was because of the crystal-clear skies. This meant that the drive over to Ullapool was an absolute joy. I used to love the drive west when I had my V6 Mazda and I would throw the car around those meandering curves between Contin and Loch Broom at speeds bordering on naughty. Today, however, I got my pleasure from sitting at 60mph and enjoying the sublime scenery. The road snakes alongside lochs and rivers with barely any other cars along the whole 57 miles, while light dustings of snow form crests on the highest of the surrounding mountains. Fifteen miles from Ullapool the road begins the long descent into Lochbroom and the views get even better with sunlight reflecting off the distant whitewashed cottages of Ullapool overlooking the loch.
What’s not to like about Ullapool? Ladies relax in the afternoon sun listening to Radio 4, colourful fishing boats bob gently by the quay, the last of the season’s tourists sit on benches eating the world’s best fish & chips, and have I mentioned the scenery? When I talked to Jane about coming over here at the weekends, she postulated moving to Ullapool for the short term. I didn’t give it serious thought at the time but, on days like today, it is very tempting.
On top of all that, it is always nice meeting new pupils and today’s lessons all went well. A nice meal at The Ceilidh Place ended the day and I have four new pupils to meet tomorrow. All in all, I am enjoying my weekend so far….. even Liverpool avoided losing (sssshhh….they didn’t actually play today).
Just one question: Why, when I am at home with Jane, is X Factor passable Saturday night telly, but, watching it alone, it is depressing dross?
(* Welcome to Ullapool)
Wednesday 4 November 2009
Ashley joins the club
The tests are coming thick and fast at the moment. After Emma and Adam’s success in Elgin, and Verity’s in Grantown yesterday, I am now back at Inverness Test Centre. Ashley is out on her first attempt. Ashley started with me back in the early spring, but she has only been having an hour a week.
Often, at the end of (or even during) the first lesson, the pupil will ask me how long it will take them to pass. As much as the DSA want us to teach ‘Safe driving for life’ (which we do), most pupils just want enough lessons to pass their test. Usually, I find it very difficult to estimate how long it will take after one lesson; besides, I don’t want to tell them. Ashley was different. For someone who had never even sat in the driver’s seat before, she really impressed me with her coordination on that first lesson. Since then she has developed into a safe, natural driver. Unfortunately, she struggled on the theory test, taking several attempts before she finally passed last month. Otherwise, we would have put in for her test maybe a couple of months ago.
A few weeks ago, when I looked at all the tests I had coming up, Ashley, Adam and Glynn were the three I was most confident about. They turned up every single week and put in almost fault-free lessons. My job with them, while we waited for their tests, has been to take them beyond test level. For example, with Ashley, who lives on the other side of Inverness, I just pick her up and ask her to drive to the test centre (as opposed to giving junction by junction directions). Only if I can see a particularly tricky situation ahead will I question her about how she is going to deal with the situation. She now knows such things as when it is appropriate to block change, how to deal with all possibilities during the manoeuvres, and can comfortably deal with overtaking on the A9 while chatting to me about her work/boyfriend/friends.
So it was of some concern just now when, in the hour’s lesson before her test, she started making mistakes. She asked me lots of questions, such as how much to steer on a parallel park, and approached most roundabouts very cautiously and changing down to 1st unnecessarily. “Don’t change your driving. You can do this easily. Just drive EXACTLY as you have been driving for the last couple of months.” I just hope that last-minute cigarette has calmed her nerves and she drives as I know she can.
I need not have worried. Ashley just passed with 2 minor faults. A fantastic result. So, with Erin’s test on Monday, my pupils are currently enjoying a good run as far as tests are concerned. I shouldn’t speak too soon; I know from experience that a good run can easily be followed by a bad run.
Just one more lesson, with Jamie, then I’m off home to raise a glass to Ashley, Verity, Emma and Adam. Slàinte mhath! or, if you prefer, Cheers!
Often, at the end of (or even during) the first lesson, the pupil will ask me how long it will take them to pass. As much as the DSA want us to teach ‘Safe driving for life’ (which we do), most pupils just want enough lessons to pass their test. Usually, I find it very difficult to estimate how long it will take after one lesson; besides, I don’t want to tell them. Ashley was different. For someone who had never even sat in the driver’s seat before, she really impressed me with her coordination on that first lesson. Since then she has developed into a safe, natural driver. Unfortunately, she struggled on the theory test, taking several attempts before she finally passed last month. Otherwise, we would have put in for her test maybe a couple of months ago.
A few weeks ago, when I looked at all the tests I had coming up, Ashley, Adam and Glynn were the three I was most confident about. They turned up every single week and put in almost fault-free lessons. My job with them, while we waited for their tests, has been to take them beyond test level. For example, with Ashley, who lives on the other side of Inverness, I just pick her up and ask her to drive to the test centre (as opposed to giving junction by junction directions). Only if I can see a particularly tricky situation ahead will I question her about how she is going to deal with the situation. She now knows such things as when it is appropriate to block change, how to deal with all possibilities during the manoeuvres, and can comfortably deal with overtaking on the A9 while chatting to me about her work/boyfriend/friends.
So it was of some concern just now when, in the hour’s lesson before her test, she started making mistakes. She asked me lots of questions, such as how much to steer on a parallel park, and approached most roundabouts very cautiously and changing down to 1st unnecessarily. “Don’t change your driving. You can do this easily. Just drive EXACTLY as you have been driving for the last couple of months.” I just hope that last-minute cigarette has calmed her nerves and she drives as I know she can.
I need not have worried. Ashley just passed with 2 minor faults. A fantastic result. So, with Erin’s test on Monday, my pupils are currently enjoying a good run as far as tests are concerned. I shouldn’t speak too soon; I know from experience that a good run can easily be followed by a bad run.
Just one more lesson, with Jamie, then I’m off home to raise a glass to Ashley, Verity, Emma and Adam. Slàinte mhath! or, if you prefer, Cheers!
Be prepared
I used to run a pub, The Cross Keys, in Totternhoe, Bedfordshire. It is believed to have been built in 1433 and, as you might imagine with a building of such age, is the subject of a couple of ghost stories. Ghost stories are particularly associated with old pubs because the cool temperature of cellars meant that they were often used as makeshift mortuaries.
On this very day, fifteen years ago, I had a very creepy experience. It was about 5.40pm and I was getting myself ready so that I could open the pub at 6pm. I had just had a shower and needed a clean shirt. My washing machine was downstairs in the cellar area, so I wrapped a towel round me and went down into the bar to get to the washing machine. It was already very dark and the lights for the bar were on the other side of the room. I walked through the bar and jumped out of my skin when I saw a man, outside and peering in through the window. I didn’t think he had seen me, so I stepped back behind the wall. My heart was pounding and, partly because of the cold, I was shivering. Every now and then, I would look round the wall, but he was still there, both hands and forehead pressed against the window. I could not see his face because the faint yellow glow of the pub car park lights rendered him in silhouette. Because I was only dressed in a towel I didn’t feel entirely comfortable going out to ask him what he wanted, but time was passing by and I had to get a shirt and iron it before I could get dressed and open the pub. I peered round the wall again; he was still there. What did he want? Why was he not moving? By now, my eyes were adjusting to the gloom and I was suddenly hit by a combination of relief and embarrassment; the strange ‘man’ was not a man at all, it was a ‘Guy’ that two of my regulars had made and had dropped off at the pub for the following evening’s bonfire and fireworks.
Therefore, the moral of the story is, ‘Be prepared…. Always have at least one shirt ironed and ready to wear’.
Therefore, the moral of the story is, ‘Be prepared…. Always have at least one shirt ironed and ready to wear’.
Tuesday 3 November 2009
100%
Well.... I took Verity for her test; my first in Grantown-on-Spey. She has been saying for weeks that she would be nervous so I didn't want to make a big thing about the roadworks (which she didn't know about). Thankfully, the rain had eased by the time we got to Grantown, but it was still falling as snow on the mountains.
It is often tempting to bombard pupils with last minute advice just before the test, but it should never be necessary. To ease her nerves I just told her that, if she made a mistake, forget about it and try to show the examiner just how good she really is. I began to talk about the amount of rain and how to deal with this and how to deal with that, then I just shut up and told her to drive exactly as she has been driving. Never try to drive differently just because it is a test.
Grantown-on-Spey is a part-time test centre, so there is no waiting room; the examiner just comes out, checks their eyesight, asks a couple of questions, then they're off while I find a nice wee cafe to wait in.
After 45 minutes they returned and my heart sank when I saw Verity just mount the curb as she parked. I waited for the dreaded opening of the examiner's door... and waited. Then I saw Verity pass over her provisional licence and I knew that she had passed!
After the formalities I thanked Iris, the examiner, and Verity gave me a hug. "I'VE PASSED! I'VE PASSED! How cool is that?!" I showed her where she had mounted the curb and said "Cooler than your parking."
"I know", Verity replied, "She (the examiner) told me off for that but she said that she could see I was a good driver and told me I had passed."
Then we had a nice drive back to Aviemore to drop Verity off, with chat about the snow on the mountains punctuated by Verity repeatedly saying "I can't believe I just passed my driving test! I can't believe I just passed my driving test!" As I have said before, it is these moments which make me LOVE my job.
So, very well-done Verity. Have fun with your driving; I know you will take care.
I'll leave you with a track from Aztec Camera's High Land Hard Rain album - very appropriate today - http://open.spotify.com/track/1TAFgCSLOsyhF5JdwaM23F. Oh, if you're wondering what the '100%' refers to, that's my Pass rate (in Grantown-on-Spey).
It is often tempting to bombard pupils with last minute advice just before the test, but it should never be necessary. To ease her nerves I just told her that, if she made a mistake, forget about it and try to show the examiner just how good she really is. I began to talk about the amount of rain and how to deal with this and how to deal with that, then I just shut up and told her to drive exactly as she has been driving. Never try to drive differently just because it is a test.
Grantown-on-Spey is a part-time test centre, so there is no waiting room; the examiner just comes out, checks their eyesight, asks a couple of questions, then they're off while I find a nice wee cafe to wait in.
After 45 minutes they returned and my heart sank when I saw Verity just mount the curb as she parked. I waited for the dreaded opening of the examiner's door... and waited. Then I saw Verity pass over her provisional licence and I knew that she had passed!
After the formalities I thanked Iris, the examiner, and Verity gave me a hug. "I'VE PASSED! I'VE PASSED! How cool is that?!" I showed her where she had mounted the curb and said "Cooler than your parking."
"I know", Verity replied, "She (the examiner) told me off for that but she said that she could see I was a good driver and told me I had passed."
Then we had a nice drive back to Aviemore to drop Verity off, with chat about the snow on the mountains punctuated by Verity repeatedly saying "I can't believe I just passed my driving test! I can't believe I just passed my driving test!" As I have said before, it is these moments which make me LOVE my job.
So, very well-done Verity. Have fun with your driving; I know you will take care.
I'll leave you with a track from Aztec Camera's High Land Hard Rain album - very appropriate today - http://open.spotify.com/track/1TAFgCSLOsyhF5JdwaM23F. Oh, if you're wondering what the '100%' refers to, that's my Pass rate (in Grantown-on-Spey).
More diluvial drama
Yuck. I am currently parked in Grantown-on-Spey High Street and the rain is incessant. So far, it’s not quite as bad (here) as the flooding last month but it has been far worse over in Aberdeenshire, especially Stonehaven and Huntly. Elgin has not suffered as badly as before, but the Lossie and Findhorn rivers are alarmingly high, with the water charging and bucking like an angry serpent.
Over here, in Strathspey, the rain is only one of my concerns. Verity is taking her test (1st attempt) this afternoon and she is not going to have it easy. Her 3.27pm test time will coincide with children leaving school, with their heads down to hide from the rain. The roads are already busy with parked cars, but they will particularly busy at half three.
The rain will cause additional hazards. Not only will she have to be careful on the blind bends on the roads out of Grantown, but she will have to keep an eye out for pedestrians close to puddles. Failure to take appropriate action could easily result in a fail, as a pupil in England found to her cost last year in England. She drove through a puddle, splashing a pedestrian, thus incurring a serious fault (presumably for ‘Awareness/Planning’) and failing her test. She appealed in the courts, unsuccessfully.
My main concern though is the roadworks. Verity’s test has coincided with the week they chose to rip up the whole of the High Street. This should not be a problem normally; roadworks are an accepted pustule on the face of driving. In Grantown however, it is a mess. The temporary traffic lights control three flows of traffic through the town and they are poorly sequenced. Yesterday I was teaching Andy and we were approaching the temporary lights with one car, a Micra, in front of us. The lights changed to red and we were bemused to see the Micra carry on through the lights and park by the pavement (almost blocking the road). One of the roadworkers rushed over to her and explained that she could not stop there and would have to move on. By now, the lights for the opposite flow of traffic had turned green and traffic was making its way towards us. Rather than sit tight and wait for the traffic to squeeze by, the lady in the Micra decided to move off, heading straight for the oncoming traffic. Another roadworker dashed over to her, halted her and moved some cones so that she could temporarily get out of the way, thus avoiding an Alf Roberts-style catastrophe. By the time the whole mess had been cleared, our lights had turned to green and back to red again; presumably with cars behind having no idea why the BSM car was not moving when the lights were green. A few minutes later, we saw an elderly lady getting out of the Micra, having ‘parked’ it at an angle of at least fifteen degrees to the curb.
You may argue that if Verity is good enough to take her test, then she should be able to deal with such problems. You are quite right. If a pupil cannot deal with difficult situations in their test, what will they do when, after they have passed their test, they get a similar situation and they are alone in the car, without help?
Right. The time has come. I’m off to collect Verity.
Incredibly, the rain is getting heavier.
Over here, in Strathspey, the rain is only one of my concerns. Verity is taking her test (1st attempt) this afternoon and she is not going to have it easy. Her 3.27pm test time will coincide with children leaving school, with their heads down to hide from the rain. The roads are already busy with parked cars, but they will particularly busy at half three.
The rain will cause additional hazards. Not only will she have to be careful on the blind bends on the roads out of Grantown, but she will have to keep an eye out for pedestrians close to puddles. Failure to take appropriate action could easily result in a fail, as a pupil in England found to her cost last year in England. She drove through a puddle, splashing a pedestrian, thus incurring a serious fault (presumably for ‘Awareness/Planning’) and failing her test. She appealed in the courts, unsuccessfully.
My main concern though is the roadworks. Verity’s test has coincided with the week they chose to rip up the whole of the High Street. This should not be a problem normally; roadworks are an accepted pustule on the face of driving. In Grantown however, it is a mess. The temporary traffic lights control three flows of traffic through the town and they are poorly sequenced. Yesterday I was teaching Andy and we were approaching the temporary lights with one car, a Micra, in front of us. The lights changed to red and we were bemused to see the Micra carry on through the lights and park by the pavement (almost blocking the road). One of the roadworkers rushed over to her and explained that she could not stop there and would have to move on. By now, the lights for the opposite flow of traffic had turned green and traffic was making its way towards us. Rather than sit tight and wait for the traffic to squeeze by, the lady in the Micra decided to move off, heading straight for the oncoming traffic. Another roadworker dashed over to her, halted her and moved some cones so that she could temporarily get out of the way, thus avoiding an Alf Roberts-style catastrophe. By the time the whole mess had been cleared, our lights had turned to green and back to red again; presumably with cars behind having no idea why the BSM car was not moving when the lights were green. A few minutes later, we saw an elderly lady getting out of the Micra, having ‘parked’ it at an angle of at least fifteen degrees to the curb.
You may argue that if Verity is good enough to take her test, then she should be able to deal with such problems. You are quite right. If a pupil cannot deal with difficult situations in their test, what will they do when, after they have passed their test, they get a similar situation and they are alone in the car, without help?
Right. The time has come. I’m off to collect Verity.
Incredibly, the rain is getting heavier.
Sunday 1 November 2009
The Not-so-Fantastic Mr Fox.
After the horror story that unfolded at Craven Cottage yesterday (Liverpool losing 1- 3 to Fulham), my enthusiasm for writing a Halloween-related blog has been diminished. However, chatting with my pupil, Nicola, the other day reminded me of a chilling experience that happened to me 25 years ago.
During the 1980s Nicola lived in Edlesborough, a small village near Leighton Buzzard, at the foot of the Chilterns, while I lived a couple of miles away, in a village called Totternhoe. In 1984 the area was shocked by a series of armed rapes, burlaries and assaults that were being commited by the same masked person (Malcolm Fairley) and one of the most horrific attacks took place in Edlesborough. You can read a summary of this at http://www.stalbansreview.co.uk/news/453104.the_hunt_for_the_fox/.
There were was a palpable sense of fear; hardware shops sold out of window locks and security equipment, no-one would leave windows open, and people kept all manner of improvised weapons beneath their pillows. Everyone was terrified. Fairley, wearing a balaclava, would break into houses, make 'dens' out of furniture, then sit in this den, watching television, waiting for the residents to return. Because of this behaviour, the press and the locals referred to him as 'The Fox'.
I was 18 at the time. One Saturday night, in the middle of this Summer, I was out with friends in Leighton Buzzard. Somehow, I missed my lift home. The last bus had gone and my parents were away on holiday, so I had no choice but to walk the 5 miles home, along dark, country lanes; my heart pumping everytime I saw car headlights.
As I have said, my parents (and youngest brother, Chris) were away, on holiday. My other brother, Ian, was also away, on holiday with friends in Dorset, meaning I was on my own for the weekend. So, as I rounded the last corner, and could finally see the sanctuary of home, I was puzzled to see a couple of lights on downstairs - I had gone out when it was daylight, so was sure I had not turned on any lights. My puzzlement turned to anxiety when I saw that the back door was unlocked; I had definitely locked it. What should I do? There were only a couple of nearby houses, but it was far too late at night for me to knock on their doors and tell them that I was worried because our house was unlocked. I edged in to the kitchen and strained to listen for any sounds... nothing. One of the lights that had been turned on was the downstairs bathroom so I peeked in there and saw the bath, half-full of water, with blood curdling out from some clothing. My goosebumps became goosemountains and I was sure my heartbeat was now loud enough to alert anyone in the house. Returning to the kitchen, I grabbed a carving knife in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. I crept from the kitchen to the lounge and my heart did a double somersault when I saw that the television was on, although programmes had finished (it was before 24 hour television). It must be The Fox.
When you watch horror films and they walk into a house, they try to switch on a light and nothing happens, then the scary music starts. You sit there thinking 'Run! Don't go any further in the house! Just get out and run for your life.' I was just thinking those exact thoughts when I saw my brother, Ian, lying face-down on the sofa. What? Why was he here? Who else was in the house? Why was he lying face-down? Why were there blood-soaked clothes in the bath?
Ian had been on holiday with some friends, as I have said. He had had too much to drink, cut himself quite badly on some glass and decided to come home early. When he got home he out his stained clothes in the bath to soak and fallen asleep on the sofa, watching television. The next day it became a funny tale I would tell my friends, but, I have to admit, I have never been that scared before or since.
During the 1980s Nicola lived in Edlesborough, a small village near Leighton Buzzard, at the foot of the Chilterns, while I lived a couple of miles away, in a village called Totternhoe. In 1984 the area was shocked by a series of armed rapes, burlaries and assaults that were being commited by the same masked person (Malcolm Fairley) and one of the most horrific attacks took place in Edlesborough. You can read a summary of this at http://www.stalbansreview.co.uk/news/453104.the_hunt_for_the_fox/.
There were was a palpable sense of fear; hardware shops sold out of window locks and security equipment, no-one would leave windows open, and people kept all manner of improvised weapons beneath their pillows. Everyone was terrified. Fairley, wearing a balaclava, would break into houses, make 'dens' out of furniture, then sit in this den, watching television, waiting for the residents to return. Because of this behaviour, the press and the locals referred to him as 'The Fox'.
As I have said, my parents (and youngest brother, Chris) were away, on holiday. My other brother, Ian, was also away, on holiday with friends in Dorset, meaning I was on my own for the weekend. So, as I rounded the last corner, and could finally see the sanctuary of home, I was puzzled to see a couple of lights on downstairs - I had gone out when it was daylight, so was sure I had not turned on any lights. My puzzlement turned to anxiety when I saw that the back door was unlocked; I had definitely locked it. What should I do? There were only a couple of nearby houses, but it was far too late at night for me to knock on their doors and tell them that I was worried because our house was unlocked. I edged in to the kitchen and strained to listen for any sounds... nothing. One of the lights that had been turned on was the downstairs bathroom so I peeked in there and saw the bath, half-full of water, with blood curdling out from some clothing. My goosebumps became goosemountains and I was sure my heartbeat was now loud enough to alert anyone in the house. Returning to the kitchen, I grabbed a carving knife in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. I crept from the kitchen to the lounge and my heart did a double somersault when I saw that the television was on, although programmes had finished (it was before 24 hour television). It must be The Fox.
When you watch horror films and they walk into a house, they try to switch on a light and nothing happens, then the scary music starts. You sit there thinking 'Run! Don't go any further in the house! Just get out and run for your life.' I was just thinking those exact thoughts when I saw my brother, Ian, lying face-down on the sofa. What? Why was he here? Who else was in the house? Why was he lying face-down? Why were there blood-soaked clothes in the bath?
Ian had been on holiday with some friends, as I have said. He had had too much to drink, cut himself quite badly on some glass and decided to come home early. When he got home he out his stained clothes in the bath to soak and fallen asleep on the sofa, watching television. The next day it became a funny tale I would tell my friends, but, I have to admit, I have never been that scared before or since.
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