The Heart of Darkness

So, for the last few weeks I have been getting up at 4.00am, two or three times a week, to do 5.00 - 7.00am lessons.
The first fifteen minutes are on rural roads, with no lighting, then we get into Elgin (or 'El-jin' as my satnav pronounces it, as though it is a Spanish gin). Town or country, it really is a different world at that time of night/morning. I always have The Specials 'Ghost Town' going round my head when we get to Elgin.
In many ways, the pupil benefits from lessons at this time because the roads are almost empty so we cover more ground. The main disadvantage is that they don't get the same practice dealing with meeting, crossing and emerging.
Now, it could be the headlights in our mirrors, but it seems that vehicles follow much more closely at this time. And there is much more speeding. OK, with empty roads you expect cars/vans to be going faster than usual, but not that fast.
On the other side of my area darkness causes other problems. Deer are a common hazard on the roads but, some roads, such as the A835 between Inverness & Ullapool, can seem full of deer in places. A few years ago I was giving a lesson at night when I saw the reflection of our headlights in a pair of eyes. I covered the brakes, a good thing too, as the deer sprung out into the road. We both went for the brakes and stopped within 2 metres of the animal.
A couple of weeks ago, someone who passed with me last year wasn't so lucky. She came round a corner near Loch Glascarnoch and hit a deer. She is the complete opposite of a boy (or girl) racer, but just got caught out.
Obviously we practiced many emergency stops in our lessons, without problems, but, in a real situation, those quick reactions become vital. I don't know exactly what happened -maybe she doesn't know herself - but sometimes reactions are delayed due to a split-second denial of what is in front of you.
It affected her confidence initially, but she was forced into repeating the journey when a colleague dislocated a shoulder and she had to drive her 60 miles to hospital.
The horror, the horror! (cine-literary joke).

Lucky dip

A somewhat embarrassing incident the other morning:
I often carry a small, pale blue backpack in my car with me. It contains my laptop, lunch, a few documents and various bits and bobs.
My pupil was asking about changing her address on her driving licence. Because my own driving licence was in my backpack I reached into the back seat to get my backpack. I opened the main compartment and rummaged through, looking for my appointments diary (which contained my licence). It didn't seem to be in the main compartment, which was worrying, so I looked in the smaller front compartment. Not there either so, getting quite anxious at the thought that I had mislaid my licence and my diary, I rummaged through the main compartment again. It must have been 20 seconds before I realised that I was looking in my pupil's pale blue backpack - not mine! I hastily zipped up her bag and spluttered an apology. She didn't really say much, but she certainly didn't seem bothered.
I still shudder at the thought of her wondering why I was looking through the contents of her bag. Hopefully not a mistake I'll make twice.

Open all hours

One of the bonuses of being self-employed is that I decide what hours I work. Having said that, I try to be flexible and do my best to fit in with what my pupils/customers want. A few years ago a pupil, who had her test the next morning, called me to ask if she could fit in another lesson that night. I tried to reassure her that her driving was easily good enough to pass, but she really wanted an extra lesson. As a result, I fitted her in at 9.30pm, so I didn't get home until nearly 11.00pm.
Then, last year, another pupil, with an 8.40am test, wanted a two hour lesson before his test, so I set off to work at 6.15am that day.
A couple of weeks ago, a new pupil had her first lesson and we were trying to arrange the next few lessons. 
I remember trying to arrange a lesson with someone who asked me for a morning lesson. I offered her 11.30am (it was the only slot I had left). "No, that's too early for me. Have you got anything later?" she asked. Not really my definition of 'morning'.
So when she asked me "Do you do mornings?" I wondered exactly what time she had in mind.
"What time would you like?" I asked.
"Five O'clock?"
"A.M?"
"Yes. Can we do 5.00 - 7.00am two our three times a week?"
Slightly shocked, I agreed.
The first morning I was cursing myself for agreeing to such an early start (especially as my alarm was set for a mere five hours after flying back from Birmingham). But, now, I quite like these early lessons. Elgin is almost completely empty at this time, so we get so much done in those two hours. And it is quite nice getting two hours work under my belt, then going home for breakfast to set me up for a full day's work.
I might change my mind again next week when her colleague starts lessons with me, meaning three 5.00am starts and two 6.00am starts in one week.

The mild wild West

It was a black night. The landscape was black, the rain was black and the sky was very black. I was even dressed in black. The rain was unrelenting and bounced back angrily from the pavement while lightning cracked the sky.
I stood facing the building for a few second, had a quick glance around, then pushed open the door. A dozen pairs of eyes turned to look at me while the barman looked down at the glass he was polishing. I ordered a drink and took a seat in a corner.
The door opened again and all eyes turned to look at the four figures, all dressed in black, who stood surveying the scene. Their eyes met mine and I stood to face them.
That was as dramatic as the whole evening got. Joan, Robbie, Pam and Effie - the other four members of 'Way Out West', our quiz team from The Argyll, Ullapool - were in town. We were in South Queensferry for the Scottish final of the Great British Pub Quiz.
Although it obviously increased our chances of winning, I was actually disappointed with the fact that there week weren't dozens of rival teams. Anyway, you can only beat what's in front of you and, like a cerebral Mo Farrah, we stretched our lead as the night went on. We won an unusually tasteful trophy and some cash. But, more importantly, it meant we qualified for the Grand Final of the Great British Pub Quiz in Villa Park, Birmingham.  And so it was, that last weekend, we flew from Inverness to Bristol, then caught the train to Birmingham to stay overnight in an hotel - all for a quiz.
The final was very different to the Edinburgh final. A quite grand affair, in Aston Villa's function suite, with professional lighting, a full Audio-visual set-up, electronic buzzer rounds, a whole team of people collecting and marking answer sheets, a rather impressive buffet and free beer! The whole thing was very organised and professional, and was co-hosted by Mark 'The Beast' Labbett (from ITV's 'The Chase'). The only trouble was, there were (gulp) 25 teams.
Well, it was a fun event, but we didn't exactly excel. There were a couple of buzzer rounds, which proved to be our downfall. One was a gamble round where there were big points to be won for gambling on an answer as early as possible, but you would lose points for an incorrect answer. We just played it too safe and waited too long to be sure of not making a wrong answer, but missed out on the big points. As a result, we finished a rather lowly 18th. However, we were made a big fuss of by the hosts and the organisers, simply because of the 1000 mile round journey we had made, and consequently, when we were presented with our regional champions trophy at the end of the night, we probably received the biggest cheer of the night.
So, congratulations to The Lions (who won), and 'thank you' to the hosts and to Punch, who sponsored the quiz and made such a big fuss of our team.
We almost didn't bother going to the final, because it was such a long journey, but we agreed it was all worthwhile in the end and hope to get through to the final again in the future.
Way out West will ride again. Yee Ha!

The drugs don't work

Whilst I'm not exactly Brad Pitt, I am not usually concerned about showing my face in public. Not this morning though; I could do with a big paper bag to put over my head before I venture out in public. I am hideous.
A few days ago I felt a painful twinge as I bit into a ginger nut (nothing to do with Prince Harry in Vegas). My usual reaction to any bodily imperfection is just to ignore it. This twinge turned out to be an abscess that is currently growing to the size of an orange. Consequently, the left side of my face now looks like an unholy contortion of Timothy Spall, Marlon Brando in 'The Godfather', Monty Python's Mr. Creosote and a puffer fish. In my teens I could never have been a Goth because I couldn't suck my cheeks in enough, but at the moment I just look ridiculous.
I'm all for telling Jane to see a doctor if she is not well but, hypocritically, I won't take such advice myself.
Over the past few days my pupils have looked at me anxiously as my face continued to swell, and I have abstained from ginger biscuits. My personal philosophy is to 'grin and bear it'. Unfortunately, it has got to the point where, even if I could grin, I would probably look like some grotesque Halloween pumpkin and, last night, it got to the point where I could no longer bear it.
At the Argyll Quiz last night a member of our team looked me over.
"Looks nasty. Is it painful?"
"It's OK," (I'm such a martyr) "I've got some painkillers."
"Are they working?"
"No."
She looked around the room, "Here," she whispered, "try some of these." and she handed me a strip of pills.
"What are they?" I asked.
"They'll take away the pain." she answered vaguely.
Another member of the team went to the bar and came back with a whisky.
"Sloosh it around your mouth." she suggested.
"Can't I drink it?"
"Yes, but sloosh it first."
The whisky tasted very nice, the pills were disgusting. Neither did anything to take the pain away.
So, after grimacing my way through the first lesson, I was straight on the phone to the NHS dental hotline. I would like to have called a vet and asked them to put me down, but I was fairly sure they wouldn't oblige.
"Can you get to Lochinver?" they asked. I could, but it was nearly an hour further north, meaning I would be 2½ hours away from my afternoon lessons. There is no alternative. I will have to go.

(Later in the day) So I drove to the dentist at Lochinver. And very good they were too. I don't know what they injected me with, but it must have been pretty strong. I was aware of him applying considerable force to pull my tooth out, but I couldn't feel even the slightest twinge of pain..
..until the drive home.
The Assynt scenery between Lochinver and Ullapool is surely amongst the finest in the world. The sky was pure blue, the sun was shining brightly. I was as happy as could be, relieved that my toothache had gone. Then the numbing effect of the injections began to fade. JESUS! THE PAIN!!! I don't ever remember pain like it. The pain gradually increased until I was seriously wanting to turn around, go back to the dentist, and ask him to put the tooth back in... Anything to take away the agony. I stopped the car, I just couldn't concentrate on driving. I popped two of my painkillers and two of the pills that I had been given last night. I just wanted to curl up in the back of my car and sleep until the pain went. But I had lessons to get to. The sensible thing would have been to cancel the afternoon's lessons, but two of them were brand new pupils, so I really didn't want to.
Fortunately, as I neared Forres, the pills were finally kicking in. I explained to my new pupils that I don't normally look like this, but I didn't care what they thought I looked like, I was just relieved that I was able to concentrate on the lessons.
Never again. I'm not religious, but I'll believe in any god you like if it means I never have to go through that again. Either that or I find a quiz team with some decent drugs.

Get out of my way!

I vaguely remember, when I was training with BSM to become a driving instructor, all these different acronyms. POM (Prepare, Observe, Move) was one. MSM was the most well known, although this was often broken down into Mirror, Signal, Position, Speed, Gear, Look. And this was sometimes further complicated with the addition of LADA (Look Assess Decide Act). I quite like POM, but I don't really use any others because I, personally, don't find them helpful.
But I was reminded of LADA yesterday. It can be useful when approaching pedestrian crossings, meeting situations, and overtaking. The reason I was reminded of it was because, in the space of a few hours, I encountered three other drivers who ignored the Look - Assess part, and predetermined that they were going to overtake.
The first one was with a relatively new pupil in Ullapool. She was going carefully along a narrow road, with parked cars lining one side of the road. Quite correctly, she was going at a speed that she felt comfortable, given how close the parked cars were. The grey Fiesta behind us was getting uncomfortably close but I reassured my pupil that her speed was fine - the worst thing she could do would be to accelerate. A blind right-hand bend was approaching, but we discussed the possibility of making progress and picking up the speed IF the road after the bend was clear. As we came round the bend we could see a parked car on our side so she checked her mirrors, indicated and moved out to pass the parked car. I was horrified to see the following car had already decided to overtake, before they could have seen the road ahead and, when we indicated to overtake the parked car, I could see him throwing his arms in the air and shaking his head. Prat. I assume, from his reaction that he expected us to wait behind the parked car while he overtook, even though there was no way he could have seen it was safe to overtake. Later, after the lesson, I was hoping I would see the driver somewhere in the village so that I could suggest that the head-shaking should have been directed at his own driving.
Later, as I was driving to Inverness on a 60mph road, I came up behind a car that was going at approximately 50mph. Although the road was slightly winding, it was safe to get up towards the speed limit. As I waited, knowing that some safe overtaking opportunities were a few minutes ahead, a red Saab convertible came quickly up behind me. He immediately sat on my shoulder, with his right indicator on. There was absolutely no way he could safely overtake for at least half a mile because of the bends in the road, but he was arrogant enough to tell me he was going to overtake long before he knew whether it was possible. When a short straight appeared he overtook us both. Fifteen minutes later, as I neared Contin, I could see the red Saab, just three cars ahead, but with several cars and two lorries ahead of him. Once again, he had already decided he was going to overtake, and took a risky chance to do so..... just as a police car came round the corner. I wish I could have seen his expression.
Perhaps the sun had got to some people's heads because a very similar thing happened just a few minutes later. I thought the whole point of the Toyota Prius was to keep fuel costs and emissions to a minimum. That is all very commendable, unless you drive it like an idiot. Lots of heavy acceleration and braking (even in a Prius) means that you will use a LOT of fuel.
When you have a lot of flowing traffic ahead of you (especially in a single carriageway where the traffic is travelling at the speed limit), it is pointless overtaking. It is a bit like sitting at the back of a train and gradually making your way through the whole train to the front carriage, just so that you can get through the ticket inspection slightly ahead of other people.
I could see this Prius driver overtaking the odd car behind me, then me, then a few cars ahead of me - each time, he would accelerate hard, then have to brake hard to get back in his lane. Twenty minutes later he had got past maybe 7 or 8 vehicles. This would have cost him a lot of excess fuel but at least he will have reached his destination 30 seconds earlier than he would have done if he had patiently sat in the traffic flow.
I had a Pass Plus session with Catherine the other day and she described how, in the week since she passed her test, she had been frustrated by people driving far too slowly for the conditions. It is frustrating and you should overtake when it is necessary and safe to do so, otherwise a queue will begin to form. But when there are endless vehicles ahead, all traveling at (or close to the speed limit), ask yourself "What will I achieve if I try to overtake all these vehicles?" Answer: a quickly emptying fuel tank. Although, admittedly, your ambulance driver won't charge you for the final part of your journey.

Ironing out the wrinkles

Bugger. You would think that, in mid-July, I would be quite comfortable in a short-sleeved shirt. Having said that, you would think that I had the sense to keep a fleece or light waterproof in the car 'just in case'. 
It's not particularly cold or wet, but, compared to the tourists in their coats, fleeces and goretex jackets, I feel very under-dressed. 
No test centre in Ullapool so, once again, I go for a walk, or find a cafe, when my pupils are out on test - and I have six consecutive tests today. 
It is quite a unique situation in these remote test centres. In Inverness and Elgin I occasionally get 2, or even 3, tests on the same day. It is unlikely that test candidates will know the other pupils talking their test and they nearly always get an hour's lesson prior to their test. In Ullapool however, the only pupils I can guarantee an hour's lesson before their test are the ones that book the first test of the day, or the one immediately after lunch. For the others, as is the case today, they have to meet me at the Fire Station (where the test begins and ends) and, if we are lucky, they will get a ten/fifteen minute 'warm-up' drive before their test. Then, after their test, they are often left to make their own way home as I will invariably have another pupil waiting for their warm up drive. Sometimes test days can feel a bit like a conveyor belt.

The other thing is that most of my Ullapool pupils know each other so, not only do they get anxious about their own tests, but they can sometimes worry about their friends' too. Last month, a pupil taking the last test of the day asked "How has everyone else got on today?"

"Would it help if I told you they all passed or they all failed?" I replied.

"No, you're right. I don't want to know."

Another thing is that, as much as I am confident that they should all pass, it is natural that I will be more confident in some rather than others. And it is often down to how much they have put into it themselves. As much as I try to make them as good a driver as possible, you can often get pupils who reach a good standard in relatively few hours. The problem with that is that I have less time to see how they deal with various situations. If then, during the test (or worse, after they have passed their test), a situation arises that they don't know how to deal with, then they could be in trouble. In theory, if they apply their knowledge to any situation, they should be fine, but you just never know for certain. I have had pupils who, on their test, have had to drive along a pavement to get around a lorry that was unloading. Or have had to reverse back along a narrow road from a T-junction because a lorry had blindly swung into the junction without checking into the road first. Both pupils passed, but nothing like that ever occurred during their lessons.

So, as a pupil approaches their test, I like to try to engineer situations that are going to be difficult for them. My philosophy is that, if they can deal with really difficult junctions/situations, then 99.9% of driving (and, hopefully, the driving test) will be really easy in comparison. I am trying to iron out all possible wrinkles, or polish them to perfection.

Unfortunately, sometimes a wrinkle unexpectedly occurs. My first test pupil of the day was someone who I struggled to find any fault in her driving. The photo on the right is of West Terrace, Ullapool. The 'pavement' is the area between the wall/fence and the white line. For the purpose of a turn in the road, the examiner is quite happy for the pupil to cross the white line, but, otherwise, it should be considered as a pavement. In her test, my pupil was driving on the other side of the road (towards us, as far as this photo is concerned), with numerous parked cars on her side. Another car, approaching her from ahead, had already starting encroaching on the 'pavement', to give both cars as much room as possible. My pupil should have pulled in to the left slightly and waited behind a parked car, to enable to the oncoming car to return to the correct side of the white line. But, because the oncoming car had already made room for her, she continued. And failed as a result. The ironic thing, as far as she is concerned, is that her awareness of 'meeting traffic' situations is usually perfect, so it was the last thing I would have expected her to fail on.

Later in the day, I had a pupil who had got through her teens and early twenties without learning to drive. It was only when one of her younger sisters (who had passed with me last year) bought her a voucher for driving lessons, that she decided to take the plunge. Her lessons have been quite concentrated, over a period of a few weeks and I think it was the short time span that made her doubt her ability to drive. After all, it was only a couple of months ago that she had not driven at all. So, in the run up to her test, she was having lessons almost every day. To try to eliminate her doubts I tried to work on any problem that occurred, making the 'wrinkles' smaller and fewer, until, a week before her test, it got to the point where I struggled to find a single fault in her driving. And this is by far the best way to combat pre-test nerves. Some people try various (legal) drugs, one person even tried hypnotism, but the best way is to develop your driving to the point where you KNOW you can drive, and can drive well. 

She became one of those pupils who, last week, I thought could be my first pupil to pass with no minor faults. I have now had several pass with just one minor fault/driver error, but the perfect pass had so far eluded us. Apparently, less than one in ten thousand pass with zero faults, but I do get pupils who I think "They could be 'the one'." As it turned out, she did pick up 3 minor faults, but, in a test situation, that is fantastic. So, very well done Catherine - you and Alasdair (her boyfriend, who passed with me in Inverness last month) can now have a private contest to see who is the better driver.

The rest of the tests went equally well. Piotr had failed a couple of times with a previous instructor, which didn't help the nerves, but also passed with 3 minor errors. Bethany, Erin and Olivia were all taking their test for the first time and made me very proud by all passing with just 3 - 5 minor errors. Congratulations to all five of you.

A few days earlier, Aaron took his driving test in Inverness. He had booked a block of twenty hours and his parents helped by giving him extra practice. In the latter lessons we worked hard on any weakness in his driving. He had developed his control of the car early on, but we needed to work on awareness and planning. By the day of his test I was very confident for him and was slightly surprised when he asked if I could sit in on the test. As the test progressed I couldn't find anything I could fault him for - so far. I was unusually relaxed - sitting in on a test is not usually a relaxing experience - and, as we approached Inverness test centre, I was thinking of what a good drive it had been. I knew he had passed, and the examiner confirmed it when he praised him on such a nice drive. But it still caught me by surprise when he said "I'm pleased to tell you that you have passed - and with no driver errors." !!!! We had done it! Or, more correctly, Aaron had done it. Aaron had joined that very exclusive club of a faultless drive in a test. 

I won't stop there. I'll try to get every pupil passing with 0 driver faults. It won't happen, of course, but it is a good target to aim for.

It is not just a target for me. Passing the driving test is really just the minimum standard. Everyone should always try to think of ways of improving their driving. Aaron has already asked about taking the Pass Plus course, and Catherine has already booked her Pass Plus course for next week. If they are looking to improve their driving, despite only having 3 minor errors between them, then it should serve as a lesson for everyone else.