I recognise that face!

When your dog has this expression on their face, it may be time to consider hanging up your car keys.

(Thanks to Joan and Effie from Ullapool for sending me this)

Va-va-voom

As promised, I got my Clio back this morning. I had begun to get used to the Peugeot, but it did feel nice being back in my car - the clutch is much more forgiving and the steering has more 'feel'.
When Matthew took his test last week the examiner looked at the Peugeot and asked me "Why have you gone and got yourself one of these?!" He obviously wasn't impressed.
It wasn't the first time examiners have turned their nose up at a car. When I was with BSM and had a Fiat 500, the examiners would often make disparaging comments about it. One time, at the start of a test, the examiner asked my pupil to pop the bonnet and tell him how he would check the oil level. As my pupil lifted the bonnet, the examiner looked into the engine and asked "Where's the rubber band?"  The cheek!

Nobody likes a Smartarse

I had very little experience of teaching anyone to drive before I became a driving instructor. The only time I can think of was when I was Landlord of The Cross Keys, Totternhoe. One of my bar staff said that she wanted to learn to drive and could I teach her? 'No problem, I thought. I had been driving for over ten years by then, thought I knew everything there was to know about driving and would be happy to pass on my expertise to someone else.
I am having a mental block and cannot remember her real name - we called her 'Squirty', in reference to her verbal diarrhoea. I think I had an old Ford Mondeo, but, obviously, no dual-controls. The pub car park wasn't the biggest, but I thought it would be an ideal area to teach her how to get the car moving, do a bit of steering, then she would be able to drive out of the village (looking back, I obviously had no idea then of how to teach someone to drive). Needless to say, we never even got out of the car park and I don't know if she ever learned to drive.
When I met Jane, my wife, her eldest daughter, Rachel, had already passed her driving test. Then, a few years later, her other daughter, Anna, took lessons and passed her test in Inverness while I was still working in Cambridgeshire. So I had no input when it came to how either of them drive (so don't blame me). Anna's boyfriend, Ross, is 23 but had never got around to learning to drive. It's his decision if he wants to learn to drive, or not, so I have never interfered. When Anna and Ross discovered that Anna was expecting their second child, they decided that perhaps it was time Ross finally learned to drive.
So, this morning, it was Ross' first attempt at the driving test. No matter how much I try to relax my pupils, they will be nervous. I have only ever had two, maybe three pupils who genuinely did not seem even the slightest bit nervous before their test. Ross was definitely not one of those.
What is there to be nervous about? It could be various reasons:
It is your first test and you are not sure what will happen.
It is not your first test and you know what is going to happen.
You are not confident in your driving.
Your lessons have not been going as well as you would have liked recently.
You just don’t like exam situations.
You have heard stories about certain examiners or things they might ask you to do.
You don’t want to go through it all again
It could be any, some, or none of the above. I would guess, however, that the most likely reason is the worry of what others might think. Think about it; if no-one knew about your test, would it matter quite so much if you did not pass?
I only remember bits and pieces of my own driving test, when I was 17. But I clearly remember being told that both my parents, my aunties and uncles, my grandparents and my cousin had ALL passed first time…. No pressure then.
 I stalled three times in my test and was absolutely convinced I had failed. As we approached the end of the test, all I could think about was my younger brothers finding it hilarious that I had been the first in our family to have failed. Fortunately, my examiner considered that, even having stalled, I had demonstrated that I was safe and (usually) in control, so he passed me and I couldn’t wait to tell everyone.
I think this especially true in Ross’ case. He was nervous because he was probably worried about what Anna, his friends and his family might say. The thing is, because I know his family, and because his girlfriend is my step-daughter, I also felt that same pressure and (stupidly) wondered what they might think about my qualities as a driving instructor if I didn’t get Ross through his test, first-time, with flying colours.
Therefore, I was as happy as Ross when he passed with 3 minor faults. And I was straight on the phone to Jane before Ross had even got out of the car (I allowed him the pleasure of telling Anna the good news).
So everybody’s happy today. Being the dad of his girlfriend, however, I have been robbed of something I could tease him about. Unfortunately, for Ross, there is one thing about which I can tease him: His test was today, Wednesday morning at 10.44am, and we had planned a final lesson on Tuesday evening, after he finished work. Late Monday night he text me to ask “Is it tomorrow night my lesson?” I could not resist replying “Unless you would rather leave it until after your test?”
Don’t you just hate it when your girlfriend’s dad is a smartarse.

Five reasons to be cheerful

A very happy bunny today as the garage have just called and told me I can collect my Clio later this week.

I had been getting a wee bit concerned as it is over 3 weeks since they collected it and I had not heard anything. The Peugeot has been fine as a replacement, but I will be glad to get my car back. It will be nice to have that extra bit of power, a better biting-point on the clutch, five doors instead of three, a colour that doesn’t highlight every single midge-splat and, most importantly, a better bass on the CD player.

Leaving adequate space either side.

I see shocking parking every day. Sometimes it is incompetent, often it is just lazy.

Doing some shopping this morning, I was just about to drive off when I saw this Megane approach the parking bays. What tickled me about this one was that they took their time and parked at a nice, careful speed. I suppose it could have been worse, they could have taken up four bays, rather than two.
Maybe they would have been better coming in at speed, shutting their eyes and hoping for the best.

Look before you leap

When I first became an instructor I often looked at driving instructor forums - either BSM's or independent ones - for news and advice. You should never stop learning, but I rarely look at the forums these days.
One topic that would crop up from time to time  is 'observations as you approach a junction'. Should you look 'left-right-left'? Or 'right-left-right-left-right-left-right'? What is correct? Answer: It depends on the circumstance.
As you approach a T-junction, if you can see more clearly to the right, for example, then look right, then look left as that view becomes clear. By now, the situation may have changed on the right, so look right again, and so on, until you are 100% that it is clear on BOTH directions.
If you are approaching a crossroads, then you can usually have an early look at the situation in the road ahead long before you need to consider the left and right, but you will probably need to check the road ahead again as you near the junction.
Where should the last check be? Regardless of the type of junction, your last check should always be in the direction you are about to go. It is very tempting, especially when emerging left, to look to the right as you are starting to accelerate. This is NOT a good idea; anything could be happening in the road you are about to accelerate into.

A few years ago I had been teaching my pupil roundabouts. I had been explaining that, if approaching vehicles were in the outside lane, or moving to the outside lane, then it may be safe to go (NOT ALWAYS). She had been progressing nicely on the numerous roundabouts on Inverness' South Distributor Road, so we went to have a look at (the infamous) Inshes roundabout, a large, spiral roundabout that seems to terrify learners and experienced drivers alike. It was busy and we had to stop and wait for a gap in the traffic. We waited. And waited. I reassured her that there was no urgency, we just needed to be ready so that, when a safe gap appeared, we could go. Of course, both of us are looking to the right, thinking 'maybe after this car... no, maybe after this car...... no, maybe after this car, etc.' Then, all the cars that were coming round started moving over to the very outside lane. I could see her about to release the handbrake when I looked to the left. The reason all the cars were moving to the outside lane was because a car (maybe someone not from these shores) was driving the WRONG way round the roundabout! I got my dual brake and clutch down just as Libby was releasing the handbrake.

Similarly, there was another time when my pupil was waiting at Shore Street roundabout. This is another spiral roundabout in Inverness, and I think this one is even worse because the vehicles come round at an higher speed so you have to be fairly quick off the mark. My pupil could not see a gap so had applied the handbrake. I could again see his fingers clenching on the handbrake when I asked him to look left: Two dozy pedestrians were crossing the road, from left to right, in front of my car just as my pupil was about to go.

This is obviously what happened to the bus driver who hit my car a few weeks ago. He, like us, was having to sit and wait for a gap in the traffic. It is easy to get so focused on looking right to see where the gap is, that you forget to look left before you accelerate. He must have seen the gap, (wrongly) assumed my pupil had moved off and accelerated, without looking first..... straight into the back of us.

The other morning I was heading for my first lesson of the day in Forres. There were two cars in front of me as we approached a roundabout. The first car was indicating left, the second car, a BMW (not an Audi this time), was not indicating. I assumed they were going straight ahead but you never can tell. One other consideration – a pedestrian was walking towards the roundabout's first exit. The first car (and I) saw this, the BMW driver obviously didn't. We could all see that the roundabout was nice and clear, with no cars approaching. The first car saw the pedestrian now crossing the road he/she was about to turn into and stopped. The BMW was only looking right, saw a nice big gap, accelerated and had to brake VERY hard to avoid going into the back of the first car. He/she must have been literally millimetres away from hitting them.

Understandably, given recent events, I have become slightly twitchy about such things, but it is quite scary how easily these things happen.

Panic on the streets of Ullapool

Test day in Ullapool again. Only three pupils on test today, two first-timers and one having his second attempt. Unusually, for Ullapool, all three of my pupils have the luxury of a lesson before their test; usually here, my pupils meet me at the 'test centre' while we wait for the previous pupil to complete their test, then they may get 5 – 10 minutes practice before their test time.

Phil had the 8.40am test and this was his second attempt. He had been very keen to get a lot of hours in before this attempt and it paid off as he passed easily, with 5 minor (sorry, 'driving') faults (we are not supposed to refer to them as 'minor' faults).

Sadly, my next pupil (on her first attempt) wasn't so successful, not giving adequate clearance to parked cars and failing to cancel a left indicator.

On the day before each test I send a text message reminding my pupil to bring BOTH parts of their licence with them. Then, when I meet them before the test, the first thing I do is to ask them if they have their licence. My 3.27pm test pupil was no different. She had previously been having lessons with another instructor in Inverness before moving to Ullapool and BSM Inverness had been very kind in recommending me to her. This was her first attempt.

When I first met Judith she seemed a nice driver, but her confidence did not match her ability. When I questioned her about it she said that sometimes in her lessons she would do something and her previous instructor would say “THAT would fail you” and, eventually, it knocked what confidence she had. I prefer a different method of instruction: If a pupil makes a mistake, that mistake should be analysed and the possible consequences discussed. Those consequences do not include 'That would cost you your test.'

She is from the Netherlands and we had a funny moment a few weeks ago. A nice sunny day in Ullapool and the harbour area was full of tourists. She was about to turn right into a road and did not anticipate the group of tourists walking out into the road she was about to enter. It was safe for her to enter the road, but she began to accelerate before she fully appreciated the situation. I braked for her as the pedestrians continued crossing the road and, when it was safe, she drove on. But she was muttering and her face was scarlet.

“Were you right to do what you did?” I asked.

“Oh, it's not that,” she replied, “I know I was in the wrong, but it was what they said.”

“I didn't catch what they said.”

“No... it was in Dutch.”

They had said something like “That girl needs her lessons”, nothing offensive, but I would have been very tempted to have driven around and said something in Dutch back to them... My pupil is obviously more mature than I am.

We had a nice hour's lesson beforehand and arrived for the test with a few minutes to spare. Being the last test of the day, the examiner was obviously keen to get going as he was already walking over towards us. “Just drive as you have been doing and you'll be fine.” I assured my pupil. “Geoff (the examiner) is already here, so take your licence and say 'hello' to him”. She grabbed her bag and looked for her licence. “#@%£!!!” (Dutch expletive). She looked in another section of her bag. “F@(&!!!” (Anglo-Saxon expletive). She looked at me. “I haven't got my licence.”

Silence.......

“Oh!......Oh!...... I know what I've done. I've left it in the café where I was having lunch. My friends should still be there.” I got out the car, explained the situation to Geoff and asked if I could have two minutes (a bit optimistic). “Hurry up.” He said (but in a nice way).

Leaving Judith with Geoff, I got in my car and dashed to The Ceilidh Place (keeping within the speed limits, of course!). If this had been a film, The Race by Yello would have been the soundtrack. I reversed into the tightest of gaps, found her friends and they rummaged through a rucksack to (eventually) find her licence. It had started to rain, so, by the time I got back to them, Geoff and my pupil were looking quite soggy. She looked at me as though I had rescued her from a fire-breathing dragon and she was on her way.

Not the best way to start a test – I shouldn't think it did much for her nerves – but she later said that the examiner had been really nice and had completely relaxed her whilst they waited for me. Anyway, she passed, with six driving faults and gave me a big hug as a thank you for my dash to get her licence.

It felt a bit strange only having three tests, but, with seven other hours of lessons, I'm not complaining.

So, very well done to Phil and Judith on their success today. And thank you to Geoff for not being a jobsworth and giving Judith and I a bit of extra time to sort ourselves out. In future I won't just ask my pupils if they have their licence, I will get them to hand it over to me. It could have easily been a much more costly lesson.

Stepping stone

I struggle to remember my own driving lessons; they were further back than I care to admit. I remember my instructor had a VW Polo, with which I was very impressed, it had a solid, chunky feel. Apart from the first lesson, which was up and down some of the rural roads surrounding Billington, my lessons seemed to consist of driving along the road between Leighton Buzzard and Heath & Reach, doing a 3-point turn, driving back, doing a left reverse, driving back, etc. Although we did one, I can't remember actually doing an emergency stop, although I do remember my instructor telling me he would have to charge me extra ('for wear') when I asked if we could practice the emergency stop before my test.

I remember he seemed really old to me (but my pupils probably think that about me now), and I found it very disconcerting how he would grab my hand when I was struggling to get it into the correct gear (such a bony hand too).

The only other thing I can really remember is my first lesson. It probably wasn't the case, but, on approaching a left turn, it seemed that the instruction was

 “Turn left up ahead. CheckyourmirrorsindicatenowbrakechangegearBRAKE..Too late.....we'll try the next one.”

' WHHAAATT!?!?!' Was my reaction. 'Are you mental? How on earth can you expect me to do all those things at once?!' I thought. It seemed ludicrous that so many things had to be done in such a short space of time. So now I take great care in explaining to pupils that, if they begin the M-S-M process early, there is no panic and they should find they have ample time to check mirrors, indicate, think about their position, get to the correct speed, choose the correct gear and look at the situation before they commit themselves to any turn. And, if they do begin the process late, they can still give themselves more time by using the brakes progressively.

As I have mentioned before, it is always rewarding when I see my former pupils driving around. They always seem so confident and competent; very different from their early lessons. Yesterday in Ullapool, towards the end of a marathon 10 hour day, I parked to make a phone call and three of my former pupils, Jayanne, Michael and Karen, approached me and we had a brief chat. They have spent the last year in university, travelling the world and getting up to who knows what. So I asked them the incredibly lame "How's the driving going?' 'How's the driving going?' ?!?! They were great drivers over a year ago. They have driven campervans on the other side of the world. They probably perform quadratic equations in their head and recite Hamlet backwards when they drive. They won't be giving a second thought to their driving by now. But, to me, I still think of them as my pupils. I still remember when they stalled when moving off, or made a complete mess of a parallel park, or sat at a junction waiting for an oncoming car that was three miles away.
So I was just their stepping stone. They have long since crossed that river and doubtless never give me a thought as they reverse into a bay at the supermarket or negotiate a busy roundabout in Glasgow. At least I can console myself that they don't remember me as that stingy old man who used to place his bony hand on mine when I changed gear.

Back in the saddle.

What a palava. As previously reported, Saturday afternoon after the prang, I was straight on the phone to my insurers to report the claim and request a replacement car. Having a car is quite important for a driving instructor. I was told that it was now 'out of office hours' so she could record my claim, but no-one would be able to do anything until Tuesday morning (Monday was a bank holiday), despite me assuring her that I could not use my car (it was driveable, but no rear windscreen and the hatch was so buckled that it could not be shut).
Tuesday morning, at 9.00am on the dot, I am on the phone, trying to inject some urgency into my case. Shortly afterwards, a car lease company call me to say that will be providing a replacement car (great!), and that it will delivered Wednesday afternoon (not so great).
"Is that ok for you Mr. Rutter?"
"Well, I was hoping to have a car today. I have a pupil on test later in the week and she was hoping for a lesson tonight. Is it possible to deliver it today?"
"I don't think so; you are 'a long way up'."
Very disappointed, I then had to contact all my pupils who had lessons scheduled for Tuesday and Wednesday morning (including a new pupil) to tell them that we would have to rearrange their lessons.
So Wednesday morning I was back on the phone, I needed to know what time the car would be arriving so that I could plan my afternoon. I called the car lease company and spoke to the same woman I spoke to the previous day.
"Your car delivery has been cancelled."
"What? Why?"
"Because you said Wednesday afternoon was not acceptable."
"I said that I was hoping to have it earlier, but NOT CANCELLED!"
(Trying to keep calm) "Well, when can you get the car here?"
"I'll see if I can find a driver. We may be able to get you a car Thursday night."
"But my pupil's test is on Friday and she really wants a lesson before then. Plus, I have already rescheduled other lessons for Wednesday evening and Thursday, because you told me I would have a car by then."
"I will see if I can find a driver, but Thursday night would still be the earliest."
Exasperated, I could only agree, but I got straight onto the GoInstruct, who I lease my Clio from. They were brilliant and told me to forget the other company and they would get a car to me immediately - well, as immediate as it is possible to be when delivering from Manchester to where I live (about 8 hours).
And so, late Wednesday night I was hugely relieved to see my replacement car being delivered to my door. It was a Peugeot 207 1.4 diesel, rather than another Clio, but any car was better than nothing.

It's quite nice. Jane prefers its looks to the Clio and she may have a point. I like the colour - I am considering white for my next car - but, especially this time of year, the splattered bugs are more noticeable. A nice chassis and I prefer the firmer suspension. Only a slightly smaller engine, but it definitely feels less powerful when dealing with hills and overtaking.
Most of my pupils so far have had no trouble adjusting (the biting point is slightly higher), but my pupil taking her test on Friday was reluctant to do so in a car she had not driven before so booked a lesson (and the test) with another instructor who had a diesel Clio. Sadly, she did not pass, and I feel bad that she was deprived of the lessons and the car she wanted. You could argue that, if she is good enough to pass her test she should be able to do so in almost any car, and I would agree with that, but pupils on a test like to have as much reassurance and comfort as possible.
No news yet on when I might be getting my car back, or even if it can be repaired. Meanwhile I am enjoying the Peugeot, I still prefer the Clio, but I think it is easier to learn in than the Fiat 500 and certainly better than the Vauxhall Corsa.
I have since had no less than three letters of apology from the car lease company that decided to cancel my original replacement car. Not much consolation to my test pupil though.