If you are thinking about becoming a driving instructor, you may want to have a good look at the way you drive, and not just because the second part of your Driving Instructor qualification is an extended driving test.
When I began my training to become a driving instructor I had a 2 litre V6 24-valve sports carwhich I absolutely loved. I loved the way hugged the corners and I loved the ease with which it could overtake anything in its path. The trouble was, the way I drove was NOT how I should be teaching pupils to drive. In other words, the way I was driving was not just illegal, but wrong: Mirrors? No need - there wasn't likely to be much catching up with me. Speed limits? No problem, I would just do the same as everyone else and slow down for the speed cameras.
When I was with my trainer, however, I did everything a driver is supposed to do. For an experienced driver, this is not difficult. It involves the correct use of mirrors, especially before any change of speed or direction; correct use of signals at the appropriate time; progressive braking and accelerating with sympathetic use of the gears; and constant and effective observation, with awareness and anticipation of others. Then, when training had finished, I would get in my own car and revert to my bad ways.
What's wrong with that? My driving didn't cause anyone any harm, so what's the problem? The problem is, learners, by definition, are not experienced, so they have to consider every single movement of their eyes, hands and feet. Their instructor then, has to be a few seconds ahead of them and thinking 'what should they be doing now?' before the pupil (hopefully) does it. The best way for me to improve my instruction was to improve my driving. I'm not saying I started driving like a learner, but I started driving exactly as I wanted my learners to drive. I kept my sports car (for a while), but I began driving to the standard which would be good enough to pass test after test without fault. I still drive like that, much to the surprise of people who had experience of how I used to drive. In fact, every day, I am always thinking of how to improve my driving. Then, by thinking like that, I will be looking for my pupils to do the same.
Despite all my claims to (now) be a good, safe driver, even I get caught out sometimes.
When approaching a junction, you should approach at a speed which affords you ample time to decide whether it is safe to progress. However, you should not be going so slowly that it causes confusion to other road users. This morning, I was heading along the A96 into Inverness. The speed limit is 50 mph; road, traffic and weather conditions were good, so I was doing 50mph and in 5th gear. Approaching the retail park roundabout - a 3-lane roundabout with good visibility - I checked my mirrors (nothing behind), braked gently and selected 3rd gear as I watched a car approaching from the other side of the roundabout. It was ok, he was approaching in his far left lane, with no signal, so I had to assume he was going straight ahead. Just as I decided it was safe to proceed he swung round to the right so I had to brake....
"STUPID, DROOL-SWIGGING SCROTAL-SMEAR!!! IDIOTIC, SPHINCTER-PLUCKING PUBE-FLOSS!!!" As you may have guessed, I was not a happy bunny.
I just don't get it. What is so difficult about extending your left finger and clicking the right indicator on? And even if your indicators have broken (as they often seem to do on taxis and Audis), is it really so complicated understanding that approaching in the right lane (as opposed to left) would make a right turn so much more easy (and obvious). I teach my pupils not to trust other vehicles' indicators, but to watch the vehicle's position and where their wheels are pointing. In this case, the (lack of) indicators and the fact that they were in the far left lane clearly suggested that they were NOT turning right. I'm so glad I was driving, and not a pupil. If a learner had been driving, they would subsequently have approached roundabouts at excessively slow speeds, causing potential confusion and frustration for following vehicles.
As I have said before (certainly to my pupils), 'EXPECT other road users and pedestrians to do stupid things - because they will'. But there is a limit. I can't start approaching roundabouts expecting everyone in the outside lane to be stupid and turn right at the last moment. Therefore, I can't start teaching my pupils that.
While I'm having a little rant about setting an example, I will return to my held opinions on reference points. A couple of days ago, I had my first lesson with a new pupil. She had moved from a different area where she had undertaken a 30 hour intensive driving course. Her general driving was good, so I had a look at her reversing manoeuvres. We stopped before a turning on the left and I asked her to go past it, then reverse into the road. She checked her mirrors and blind-area, then drove past the road, having a glance into the road as she did so....
"Aargh!" She groaned.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I forgot to count the curbs."
"Sorry?"
"I forgot to count the curbstones. My instructor told me that if there are lots of curved curbstones then it will be half a turn of the wheel. If there are only a few curved curbstones it will be full left-lock. And if there are about 7 - 9 curbstones in the bend then I will need to turn the wheel about three-quarters of a turn."
COME ON!?! Am I supposed to believe that her instructor would count curbstones in a bend before he reversed into it? Of course he wouldn't! He would just drive past the road, then reverse around the corner using regular checks in his rear windows and left mirror to assess whether to steer closer to or further from the curb. And if we (instructors) would do this, then should we not be teaching our pupils the same? Yes, yes, I agree that 'reference points' are a useful tool, and should not be ruled out, but can you imagine a pupil going for his/her test and panicking because they forgot to count the curbstones, or because they could not remember whether it was half a turn or three-quarters of a turn? Why make things difficult for them? When going forward you turn where you want the front of the car to go. When reversing you turn in the direction you want the back of the car to go. That's it. Simple.
On a final note about instructors driving as they would like their pupils to drive, I was teaching in Inverness today when the RED driving school car in front of us stopped at a traffic light, way over the area reserved for cycles. I was then gobsmacked to see that the car was being driven by the instructor. D'oh!
Tuesday 28 September 2010
Sunday 26 September 2010
Cobblers
I’m not too sure which is worse, Inverness being thumped 6 - 0 by Celtic, or Liverpool losing to Northampton. Actually, I do know… Liverpool was far worse. Inverness losing heavily to Celtic was always a possibility. Still, congratulations to the Cobblers, but it is not the best time to be a Liverpool fan at the moment.
The week had started so well too.
On Tuesday, Sandy had his second attempt at his driving test. Despite the fact that he had almost all his lessons in Ullapool, I was very confident that he would pass first time in Inverness last month. But, for some reason, unknown to him or I, he failed to see a red traffic light and the examiner had to tell him to brake. Anyway, no such problems this time and he breezed round the test, passing with just one minor fault. An excellent result. I’m still waiting for my first pupil to pass with no faults, but only one in 10,000 people manage that apparently.
Off to Ullapool on Wednesday for three full days of tests and lessons. I have posted enough blow by blow accounts of Ullapool test days for now. Exciting for my pupils and me, but yawnsville for everyone else. Still, I am proud to report that I had six pupils on test, and four of them passed (with barely a dozen minor faults between them). So congratulations to Dean, Kerry, Tracey and Stuart.
The fact that Ullapool only has one test day a month sometimes gives an ‘end of school year’ feeling to test days; pupils who have been with me several months finally ‘graduate’ and I’m usually slightly sad to see them go. The days following then seemed like the start of a new school year as three brand new pupils started with me.
The week had started so well too.
On Tuesday, Sandy had his second attempt at his driving test. Despite the fact that he had almost all his lessons in Ullapool, I was very confident that he would pass first time in Inverness last month. But, for some reason, unknown to him or I, he failed to see a red traffic light and the examiner had to tell him to brake. Anyway, no such problems this time and he breezed round the test, passing with just one minor fault. An excellent result. I’m still waiting for my first pupil to pass with no faults, but only one in 10,000 people manage that apparently.
Off to Ullapool on Wednesday for three full days of tests and lessons. I have posted enough blow by blow accounts of Ullapool test days for now. Exciting for my pupils and me, but yawnsville for everyone else. Still, I am proud to report that I had six pupils on test, and four of them passed (with barely a dozen minor faults between them). So congratulations to Dean, Kerry, Tracey and Stuart.
The fact that Ullapool only has one test day a month sometimes gives an ‘end of school year’ feeling to test days; pupils who have been with me several months finally ‘graduate’ and I’m usually slightly sad to see them go. The days following then seemed like the start of a new school year as three brand new pupils started with me.
It’s now Saturday night and I’m off to bed as another two new pupils start tomorrow. To put the cherry on the cake, Inverness beat St. Mirren away and Liverpool managed to avoid another defeat (just). I’ll leave you with (three-quarters of) Ullapool’s Class of September 2010.
Saturday 18 September 2010
Say 'cheese'.
Not long after that Jane and I were riding the ponies through Culbin Forest, a 9-mile wide stretch of pristine forest between Nairn and Findhorn Bay, that lies a mile north, between our house and the sea. As usual, Jane was riding Dave (she only bought him because he was called 'Dave'), a part-bred Arab, and I was riding Lachie, our Highland pony (because he has sturdy little legs and take my weight). Although Jane is always out on the ponies, come rain or shine, I have to confess I don't join her as much as I should. Therefore, as we came out of the forest, and the gentle waves of the Moray Firth lay ahead, I took a few photos of Jane and Dave, then passed the camera to her so that she could capture this rare moment of me riding Lachie. Unfortunately, just as I passed the camera to her, a wave crashed on the shore causing Lachie to spook a little and the camera dropped to the floor. Zut alors, caramba and dagnabbit!
I didn't get around to replacing that camera and settled for taking the odd photo with my mobile phone, a phone so old that I have to ask people to sit still for three minutes during exposure. There was no rush to replace the camera, even when everyone I know on Facebook and Twitter seemed to be replacing their profile pictures daily (apart from Helen, who, like me, thinks that a 30+ year-old photo of half of her face will suffice). Even with this blog, I have been quite content to pilfer, pillage, plunder and purloin various images from the web to add a dash of colour to these pages (including the photos in this post).
As you may know, I have dabbled in creating my own website during the last eighteen months. Recently I managed to secure the domain name 'Farle.co.uk' for free, but had difficulties getting the layout I wanted. Finally, I decided to buy a website package that would allow me to do what I wanted with the pages. I think the name (Farledrivingschool) is a wee bit long-winded, but it has been (comparatively) easy for me to set up. It is far from finished yet, but I tinker with it from time to time and, one day, I will finish it.
The last couple of days I have even managed to add a facility for people to buy lessons online. Jane was very dubious about this and I guess I was not expecting a deluge of new customers as a result. Therefore, I was thrilled to receive an email this morning, informing me that someone (new) had paid, via PayPal, for a block of ten hours through my website. I must reassure you that PayPal is not linked in any way with the current visit of the Pope.
One thing that the website lacks (apart from 'professionalism', 'clarity', 'interest' and 'coherence') is pretty pictures. That settled it; I had to invest in a camera. I read all the reviews, changed my mind, re-read all the reviews and finally plumped for a Panasonic Lumix TZ8. A lot cheaper than my old Minolta SLR, but, blimey, it has ten times as many features and modes. I started reading the manual, but fell asleep somewhere around page 527.
Of course, just when I am eager to rush out and take glorious photo after glorious photo, the weather has gone from dull to duller. There are a couple of photogenic puddles outside I could practice on, but I am going to be patient and wait for optimum light conditions before creating my photo masterpieces. Just don't hold your breath.
Monday 13 September 2010
quid pro quo
....and, as I have started with some Latin, here are some more words for you: Luxuria, Gula, Avaritia, Acedia, Ira, Invidia, Superbia or, as you might know them better, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride. As you may know, the Catholic Church divided sin into two principal catagories: Venial sins are relatively minor - a bit like gently touching the curb during a manoeuvre - while Cardinal (or Mortal) sins are very naughty and are believed to 'destroy the life of grace and create the threat of eternal damnation unless either absolved through the sacrament of Penance or forgiven through perfect contrition on the part of the penitent'. I guess I'm bound for eternal damnation then, as I rather partial to one or two of those cardinal sins from time to time. Pride (or hubris) is considered to be the original, and the most serious, sin. It was Lucifer's pride (his desire to compete with God) that caused his fall from heaven, and his resultant transformation into Satan. Not all driving instructors will tell you this important information. However - and this is where Gordon Gekko and I disagree - I think greed is the worst. Gordon Gekko thought that "Greed is good" and "lunch is for wimps" and the Catholic Church thinks it is ok to abuse children, so don't listen to them.
Yesterday, after nine hours of lessons in Ullapool, I decided to stay overnight in the village, rather than drive home then drive back again today. I hadn't planned ahead and was disappointed to find that my usual B&B had no vacancies. This seemed to be the case with many of the B&Bs close to the shore, so I thought it best to find one in one of the back streets away from the main tourist area. I found one hidden away, with a 'vacancies' sign dispayed. Perfect. I knocked on the door.
"Do you have a single room available?"
She looked me up and down (I was smartly dressed, with black trousers, white shirt and tie), "I've got a room with 3 single beds."
"Ok. How much is that?"
"It depends how desperate you are."
In other words, she had no intention of letting me have the room at the rate per person advertised.
"I'm not desperate. There is a hostel around the corner." I replied.
It was tempting to add "....so don't think about trying to fleece me, you money-grabbing greedy hag.", but I kept that thought to myself.
Maybe she was a mystical hag and was able to read my thoughts because she said "Well, you'd better try the hostel then." as she closed the door on me. I was quite shocked by this. I perfectly understand her wanting to get the best return on her room, but it was nearly eight o'clock and I doubt that anyone else would have been looking for a B&B so far from the main area at that time of night. I was quite happy to go to the hostel, where the rooms are basic, but clean, but I remained disappointed by the landlady's attitude - she had not even considered suggesting a price to me - it was so unlike the attitude of most people in the Highlands; greed is alien to them.
I am not the most materialistic person in the world (sometimes I take this to extremes which makes Jane despair). In fact, money almost repels me. But then I seem to repel money, so that's fair. Perhaps that is why I like the fact that many transactions are completed here without a sniff of money.
Irene, our neighbour, regularly leaves a bag of her home-grown tomatoes, or a cake that she has made, on our doorstep, while Jane will look after Irene's garden (or bake a cake) in return. Jane will let her friend, Eve, ride Dave (one of our ponies) and, in return, Eve keeps us supplied with eggs from her hens and buckets of fruit and chantelle mushrooms from her neighbouring woods. Bob 'gives up' his Thursday evenings to host the pub quiz in return for the odd drink or five. And I have traded driving lessons (or discounts on) for meals from a customer's chinese takeaway, B&B, home-made ginger and lime cakes and some mechanical work on Jane's car. This week, a recently-passed pupil recommended me to her boss, who owns an hotel. He then called me and we have just negotiated a deal where I teach his wife to drive, and in return, I get free bed, breakfast and evening meals in the hotel whenever I want to stay in Ullapool (which will be once or twice a week). He's pleased and I'm very pleased, especially considering last night's encounter with the greedy landlady.
This idea of 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' applies to my relationship with pupils. On the whole, they are enthusiastic and considerate people. If they ever have to cancel, or postpone a lesson, they generally try to give me at least two day's notice. Then, I may be able to fill that gap with a lesson for someone else. It is BSM's (and many other driving schools') policy to charge for the lesson if less than 48 hours notice is not given before a cancellation. I'm generally too soft to ever charge someone if they cancel with short notice, although I find that sometimes a pupil will offer to pay anyway. Sometimes a cancellation cannot be helped; an injury or illness, or even the pupil's boss insisting they work that day, are reasonable reasons for a cancellation. I would much rather a pupil is honest. If they call me and say 'Sorry Martin, I don't think I can afford a lesson this week', I would prefer that to a dishonest text message on the day. I can usually tell which pupils are mucking me about and which ones are genuine. The genuine, considerate pupils I reward with as much flexibility as I can in fitting in their lessons. If I think someone is not being considerate, or honest, I will then dictate when they have their lessons. If they don't like it, tough.
So whether it is swapping some delicious mushrooms for a horseride, being considerate to your driving instructor/pupil, letting the occasional car out of a side road when traffic flow is slow, or being willing to enter into negotiations when someone wants to stay in your B&B, life is much better with a little give and take.
Yesterday, after nine hours of lessons in Ullapool, I decided to stay overnight in the village, rather than drive home then drive back again today. I hadn't planned ahead and was disappointed to find that my usual B&B had no vacancies. This seemed to be the case with many of the B&Bs close to the shore, so I thought it best to find one in one of the back streets away from the main tourist area. I found one hidden away, with a 'vacancies' sign dispayed. Perfect. I knocked on the door.
"Do you have a single room available?"
She looked me up and down (I was smartly dressed, with black trousers, white shirt and tie), "I've got a room with 3 single beds."
"Ok. How much is that?"
"It depends how desperate you are."
In other words, she had no intention of letting me have the room at the rate per person advertised.
"I'm not desperate. There is a hostel around the corner." I replied.
It was tempting to add "....so don't think about trying to fleece me, you money-grabbing greedy hag.", but I kept that thought to myself.
Maybe she was a mystical hag and was able to read my thoughts because she said "Well, you'd better try the hostel then." as she closed the door on me. I was quite shocked by this. I perfectly understand her wanting to get the best return on her room, but it was nearly eight o'clock and I doubt that anyone else would have been looking for a B&B so far from the main area at that time of night. I was quite happy to go to the hostel, where the rooms are basic, but clean, but I remained disappointed by the landlady's attitude - she had not even considered suggesting a price to me - it was so unlike the attitude of most people in the Highlands; greed is alien to them.
I am not the most materialistic person in the world (sometimes I take this to extremes which makes Jane despair). In fact, money almost repels me. But then I seem to repel money, so that's fair. Perhaps that is why I like the fact that many transactions are completed here without a sniff of money.
Irene, our neighbour, regularly leaves a bag of her home-grown tomatoes, or a cake that she has made, on our doorstep, while Jane will look after Irene's garden (or bake a cake) in return. Jane will let her friend, Eve, ride Dave (one of our ponies) and, in return, Eve keeps us supplied with eggs from her hens and buckets of fruit and chantelle mushrooms from her neighbouring woods. Bob 'gives up' his Thursday evenings to host the pub quiz in return for the odd drink or five. And I have traded driving lessons (or discounts on) for meals from a customer's chinese takeaway, B&B, home-made ginger and lime cakes and some mechanical work on Jane's car. This week, a recently-passed pupil recommended me to her boss, who owns an hotel. He then called me and we have just negotiated a deal where I teach his wife to drive, and in return, I get free bed, breakfast and evening meals in the hotel whenever I want to stay in Ullapool (which will be once or twice a week). He's pleased and I'm very pleased, especially considering last night's encounter with the greedy landlady.
This idea of 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' applies to my relationship with pupils. On the whole, they are enthusiastic and considerate people. If they ever have to cancel, or postpone a lesson, they generally try to give me at least two day's notice. Then, I may be able to fill that gap with a lesson for someone else. It is BSM's (and many other driving schools') policy to charge for the lesson if less than 48 hours notice is not given before a cancellation. I'm generally too soft to ever charge someone if they cancel with short notice, although I find that sometimes a pupil will offer to pay anyway. Sometimes a cancellation cannot be helped; an injury or illness, or even the pupil's boss insisting they work that day, are reasonable reasons for a cancellation. I would much rather a pupil is honest. If they call me and say 'Sorry Martin, I don't think I can afford a lesson this week', I would prefer that to a dishonest text message on the day. I can usually tell which pupils are mucking me about and which ones are genuine. The genuine, considerate pupils I reward with as much flexibility as I can in fitting in their lessons. If I think someone is not being considerate, or honest, I will then dictate when they have their lessons. If they don't like it, tough.
So whether it is swapping some delicious mushrooms for a horseride, being considerate to your driving instructor/pupil, letting the occasional car out of a side road when traffic flow is slow, or being willing to enter into negotiations when someone wants to stay in your B&B, life is much better with a little give and take.
Wednesday 8 September 2010
Addictions
I actually took the whole weekend off. Well….almost…I did just one lesson Saturday morning. My mother and her fiancé, Peter, were flying up for the weekend so I planned a weekend of food, wine and music.
We picked them up from Inverness Airport on Saturday afternoon, then headed straight over to Ullapool. Despite my doom and gloom post recently, moaning about our ‘summer’, and despite the fact that our best weather rarely coincides with mum’s visits, the last few days have been spectacularly good. My brother, Chris, took delight in letting us know it was currently 29° in Dubrovnik, but, with a high of 27° on Thursday, Ullapool wasn’t too far behind.
There are several places that claim to serve the best fish and chips in Ullapool, but, after trying the Arch Inn on West Shore Street, I would have to say that (in my experience, so far) they serve the best fish and chips in the whole world. After that it was a pleasant stroll to the McPhail Theatre to see Dochas (and the Feis Rois Ceilidh Trail in support) as part of the 2010 Blas festival. Dochas are a girl band from the Highlands, featuring the incredible Julie Fowlis. I wrote about her last August when she played at Speyfest, but this was the first time Jane and I have seen Dochas, and it definitely won't be the last. As good as Julie is, Jane knows that my highlight, being a repressed bongo player, is her bodhran player, Martin O'Neill (no, not that Martin O'Neill). He has recently been touring with Stevie Wonder (yes, that Stevie Wonder) and, to give you a taste of how good he is look for him on YouTube - Here is one link.
After a comfortable stay (as always) at Creagan House B&B, Sunday was going to be a leisurely day. I enjoyed being a typical 'Sunday driver' as we took our time driving around Ross-shire and Sutherland, but, with virtually no other cars on the roads, it wasn't as if I was holding anyone up. We stopped at the Falls of Shin, near Lairg. You may have seen salmon trying to leap up waterfalls on television, but seeing the incredible struggle of the salmon leaping against the full force of a watefall (and succeeding) in real life was spellbinding -we could have stayed all afternoon.
It was hard to imagine that Saturday's feast could be topped, but we managed to do so at The Anderson, in Fortrose on the Black Isle. The website's sample menu is curiously conservative, but the menu we had was impossible to choose from because it had far too many dishes we could not choose between. In the end I tossed a coin and went for fillet of hare with bramble sauce and venison pie, while Jane chose the Black forest chicken (stuffed with gingerbread) and declared that that would be what we are going to have for Christmas dinner (I can't be thinking about Christmas yet).
Some people are addicted to gambling, others to drink. Rob Lowe was addicted to sex and Robert Palmer knew someone who was addicted to love. I can understand those, but one addicition I have struggled to understand is fishing. People spend fortunes buying all the equipment ,then spend hours (and hours and hours) waiting for that elusive little fish. And I have never understood why. I remember fondly going out in a boat with my dad and my brothers, throwing a line full of feathers over the side and pulling it up a few minutes later to find several mackerel attached. We would then wrap them in foil and throw them on a campfire we had made - NOTHING tastes better. And I guess I vaguely remember a sense of excitement as we pulled those lines up, but this was mainly linked to the expectation of dinner. But even that did nothing to make me want to sit by some water for hours, watching a line (and I like sitting by water).
Peter likes his fishing, although 'addicted' would be (slightly) too strong a word in his case, and always brings a fishing rod with him when he and mum fly up here. So, Monday morning, when mum and Jane wanted to do girly things like nails and shopping, I thought Peter and me could do something manly - fishing. Peter would be able to demonstrate what I had been missing out on.
From inside the weather looked fantastic, but, outside, it was blowing a hoolie, a real sgal. Regardless, we set off for the loch. Peter deliberated over which fly to use - are the fish that fussy? - then carefully picked the best spot (I'm not sure what criteria decided this). I didn't seem to be missing that much, so I spent a few hours reading The Book Thief. There was one point when he thought he had a bite but..... no.... it had gone. I quite enjoyed myself, despite cursing the occasional small clouds which blocked the sun for a few seconds at a time and caused the temperature to drop, but I think my enjoyment had more to do with the book than the prospect of Peter catching a fish. Peter explained that the wind was causing waves, which made it hard for him to see where the fish were, but I'm not sure I was convinced by this. Eventually, the wind got the better of him and the prospect of a lunch outside a pub at Findhorn Bay seemed a more enticing way of encountering a fish. Just as we left, a man at a different part of the loch actually caught a real, live fish. For a split-second I thought I saw a trace of enjoyment on his face.
So, I remain unconvinced. Obviously Peter and millions (allegedly) of others love their fishing, but live music and good food are much more addictive to me.
We picked them up from Inverness Airport on Saturday afternoon, then headed straight over to Ullapool. Despite my doom and gloom post recently, moaning about our ‘summer’, and despite the fact that our best weather rarely coincides with mum’s visits, the last few days have been spectacularly good. My brother, Chris, took delight in letting us know it was currently 29° in Dubrovnik, but, with a high of 27° on Thursday, Ullapool wasn’t too far behind.
There are several places that claim to serve the best fish and chips in Ullapool, but, after trying the Arch Inn on West Shore Street, I would have to say that (in my experience, so far) they serve the best fish and chips in the whole world. After that it was a pleasant stroll to the McPhail Theatre to see Dochas (and the Feis Rois Ceilidh Trail in support) as part of the 2010 Blas festival. Dochas are a girl band from the Highlands, featuring the incredible Julie Fowlis. I wrote about her last August when she played at Speyfest, but this was the first time Jane and I have seen Dochas, and it definitely won't be the last. As good as Julie is, Jane knows that my highlight, being a repressed bongo player, is her bodhran player, Martin O'Neill (no, not that Martin O'Neill). He has recently been touring with Stevie Wonder (yes, that Stevie Wonder) and, to give you a taste of how good he is look for him on YouTube - Here is one link.
After a comfortable stay (as always) at Creagan House B&B, Sunday was going to be a leisurely day. I enjoyed being a typical 'Sunday driver' as we took our time driving around Ross-shire and Sutherland, but, with virtually no other cars on the roads, it wasn't as if I was holding anyone up. We stopped at the Falls of Shin, near Lairg. You may have seen salmon trying to leap up waterfalls on television, but seeing the incredible struggle of the salmon leaping against the full force of a watefall (and succeeding) in real life was spellbinding -we could have stayed all afternoon.
It was hard to imagine that Saturday's feast could be topped, but we managed to do so at The Anderson, in Fortrose on the Black Isle. The website's sample menu is curiously conservative, but the menu we had was impossible to choose from because it had far too many dishes we could not choose between. In the end I tossed a coin and went for fillet of hare with bramble sauce and venison pie, while Jane chose the Black forest chicken (stuffed with gingerbread) and declared that that would be what we are going to have for Christmas dinner (I can't be thinking about Christmas yet).
Some people are addicted to gambling, others to drink. Rob Lowe was addicted to sex and Robert Palmer knew someone who was addicted to love. I can understand those, but one addicition I have struggled to understand is fishing. People spend fortunes buying all the equipment ,then spend hours (and hours and hours) waiting for that elusive little fish. And I have never understood why. I remember fondly going out in a boat with my dad and my brothers, throwing a line full of feathers over the side and pulling it up a few minutes later to find several mackerel attached. We would then wrap them in foil and throw them on a campfire we had made - NOTHING tastes better. And I guess I vaguely remember a sense of excitement as we pulled those lines up, but this was mainly linked to the expectation of dinner. But even that did nothing to make me want to sit by some water for hours, watching a line (and I like sitting by water).
Peter likes his fishing, although 'addicted' would be (slightly) too strong a word in his case, and always brings a fishing rod with him when he and mum fly up here. So, Monday morning, when mum and Jane wanted to do girly things like nails and shopping, I thought Peter and me could do something manly - fishing. Peter would be able to demonstrate what I had been missing out on.
From inside the weather looked fantastic, but, outside, it was blowing a hoolie, a real sgal. Regardless, we set off for the loch. Peter deliberated over which fly to use - are the fish that fussy? - then carefully picked the best spot (I'm not sure what criteria decided this). I didn't seem to be missing that much, so I spent a few hours reading The Book Thief. There was one point when he thought he had a bite but..... no.... it had gone. I quite enjoyed myself, despite cursing the occasional small clouds which blocked the sun for a few seconds at a time and caused the temperature to drop, but I think my enjoyment had more to do with the book than the prospect of Peter catching a fish. Peter explained that the wind was causing waves, which made it hard for him to see where the fish were, but I'm not sure I was convinced by this. Eventually, the wind got the better of him and the prospect of a lunch outside a pub at Findhorn Bay seemed a more enticing way of encountering a fish. Just as we left, a man at a different part of the loch actually caught a real, live fish. For a split-second I thought I saw a trace of enjoyment on his face.
So, I remain unconvinced. Obviously Peter and millions (allegedly) of others love their fishing, but live music and good food are much more addictive to me.
Friday 3 September 2010
exempli gratia
A question to all qualified drivers: How good is your driving? I’m not too concerned with whether your gear changes are silky-smooth, whether you cross your hands when turning, or whether you rest your hand on the gearstick between gear changes. What I want to know is whether you are a safe driver who always considers other road users and pedestrians? You are? That’s fantastic. You look in all directions before emerging at junctions, you indicate (when appropriate) before changes of speed or direction, you give way when necessary (even if you have priority), you use your indicators correctly, and you anticipate when someone less perfect than you is likely to do something stupid. Well, if that’s the case, not only are you in a very small minority, but you are of no use to me or my learners - we cannot learn from your driving.
Actually, we can. Today, for example, I was teaching a relatively new pupil how to emerge at T-junctions. I was trying to emphasise how much easier it is if, instead of rushing up to the give-way line and stopping, he slowed to a speed which gave him time to look in both directions before he got to the give-way line. Parked by the curb, with a closed (limited vision) T-junction ahead of us, we watched as a car went past and approached the junction. They indicated at the correct time, slowed progressively so that, by the time they reached the junction, they were at a slow walking speed, but, without stopping, they had time to see that it was clear to emerge into the new road and off they went. This demonstration of good driving was a revelation to my pupil and he subsequently tried to bring his speed right down with a view to not stopping unless he had to.
But the bad drivers provide us with much more entertainment….
Kelly has recently started with me and, having had a bit of practice with family a few years ago, is quite competent at controlling the car. However, I often have to prompt her to check her ‘blind spot’ (‘blind area’ is more accurate) before she moves off. We were parked by the side of the road and I was showing her a diagram of the areas covered by her mirrors and, more importantly, the areas not covered. She seemed slightly dubious that this would matter, despite agreeing that there was quite an angle she could not see in the mirrors. I was hoping a car would pass us so that I could demonstrate how long it would take for a car to go from being visible in the right mirror to being visible in her peripheral vision. Something even better happened. A car was parked further ahead of us, about 20m from the end of the road. Another car passed us and was just about to pass the parked car ahead when the parked car decided to move off (obviously without any mirror or blind area checks). This caused the overtaking car to have to swerve over to the right (very uncomfortable so close to a closed T-junction), brake and toot the horn furiously. Why we check mirrors and blind areas - lesson learned.
Later in the lesson, we approached a T-junction to emerge left. As we did so, there was a blue car approaching from our right with their left indicator flashing. I wasn’t comfortable with their speed of approach, but I could see Kelly’s foot was still on the brake. As I suspected, the driver of the blue car did not turn left, they carried on up the road, passing another two left turns, completely oblivious to the fact that her indicators were telling everyone she was intending to turn left. I praised Kelly for her caution and she learned why it is important not to trust indicators and also why it is important to make sure indicators have cancelled after entering a new road.
Over the years, my pupils have learned that taxis do not have working indicators and can drive however the hell they like; they have learned that many Audi drivers are born with a gene that means they cannot drive patiently behind another driver; my pupils have learned that pedestrians will step out in front of them, people will swing open their car door without checking to make sure it is safe; sometimes a car’s indicators will give no indication as to what a car is about to do, and some drivers will change speed or direction without the slightest consideration for how it will affect others. In short, I tell my pupils to expect other road users and pedestrians to do the most stupid things, because they will.
So while I would prefer you to drive perfectly, it is useful if some of you continue to be crap drivers; not only does it provide me with a useful learning tool, so I can demonstrate to my pupils what NOT to do, but it also affords my pupils and I to have a big laugh at your stupidity.
Actually, we can. Today, for example, I was teaching a relatively new pupil how to emerge at T-junctions. I was trying to emphasise how much easier it is if, instead of rushing up to the give-way line and stopping, he slowed to a speed which gave him time to look in both directions before he got to the give-way line. Parked by the curb, with a closed (limited vision) T-junction ahead of us, we watched as a car went past and approached the junction. They indicated at the correct time, slowed progressively so that, by the time they reached the junction, they were at a slow walking speed, but, without stopping, they had time to see that it was clear to emerge into the new road and off they went. This demonstration of good driving was a revelation to my pupil and he subsequently tried to bring his speed right down with a view to not stopping unless he had to.
But the bad drivers provide us with much more entertainment….
Kelly has recently started with me and, having had a bit of practice with family a few years ago, is quite competent at controlling the car. However, I often have to prompt her to check her ‘blind spot’ (‘blind area’ is more accurate) before she moves off. We were parked by the side of the road and I was showing her a diagram of the areas covered by her mirrors and, more importantly, the areas not covered. She seemed slightly dubious that this would matter, despite agreeing that there was quite an angle she could not see in the mirrors. I was hoping a car would pass us so that I could demonstrate how long it would take for a car to go from being visible in the right mirror to being visible in her peripheral vision. Something even better happened. A car was parked further ahead of us, about 20m from the end of the road. Another car passed us and was just about to pass the parked car ahead when the parked car decided to move off (obviously without any mirror or blind area checks). This caused the overtaking car to have to swerve over to the right (very uncomfortable so close to a closed T-junction), brake and toot the horn furiously. Why we check mirrors and blind areas - lesson learned.
Later in the lesson, we approached a T-junction to emerge left. As we did so, there was a blue car approaching from our right with their left indicator flashing. I wasn’t comfortable with their speed of approach, but I could see Kelly’s foot was still on the brake. As I suspected, the driver of the blue car did not turn left, they carried on up the road, passing another two left turns, completely oblivious to the fact that her indicators were telling everyone she was intending to turn left. I praised Kelly for her caution and she learned why it is important not to trust indicators and also why it is important to make sure indicators have cancelled after entering a new road.
Over the years, my pupils have learned that taxis do not have working indicators and can drive however the hell they like; they have learned that many Audi drivers are born with a gene that means they cannot drive patiently behind another driver; my pupils have learned that pedestrians will step out in front of them, people will swing open their car door without checking to make sure it is safe; sometimes a car’s indicators will give no indication as to what a car is about to do, and some drivers will change speed or direction without the slightest consideration for how it will affect others. In short, I tell my pupils to expect other road users and pedestrians to do the most stupid things, because they will.
So while I would prefer you to drive perfectly, it is useful if some of you continue to be crap drivers; not only does it provide me with a useful learning tool, so I can demonstrate to my pupils what NOT to do, but it also affords my pupils and I to have a big laugh at your stupidity.
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