Matthew's big day

Matthew's test was scheduled at 9.37am; a nice time, I think, after rush hour, but before Inverness' traffic really gets going. So we could afford to have a relaxed start to the day, with tea, bacon sandwiches and (not so relaxed) The William Tell Overture (The theme from The Lone Ranger) to liven us up.
There have been all sorts of roadworks and changes to the road system in the area around Inverness test centre recently, so we wanted a relaxed drive around the area before the test. With fifteen minutes to go it was time to turn the car round in the road and head towards the test centre. Matt seemed fine, but I was the one getting nervous, and this wasn't helped by the amount of traffic delaying his turn in the road.
"What time is my test?" asked Matthew, at 9.30am, as we approached the test centre.
"We've got plenty of time." I reassured, but anxiously aware that we only had a few minutes to spare. 

With every test I always get a little...... not nervous, but concerned. I only bring a pupil to test if I am confident that they are fine driving on their own. They don't have to be perfect (like Sarah last month), but they have to make me feel relaxed and confident in their ability. Matthew certainly drove like that. I had no doubts at all about his ability to drive but...... It is a test. And you never know what someone will do in test conditions.

For those of you who might not know, I'll explain the procedure: Matthew meets the examiner, who checks both parts of his licence and asks Matthew to sign a declaration that the car is insured and that he has lived in the UK for 6 out of the previous 12 months. The examiner then asks Matthew if he would like me to sit in on the test (he did). We walk out to the car park and the examiner checks his eyesight by asking him to read a number plate from 25 - 30m (the requirement is 20m). Then we approach the car and the examiner asks him two 'show me/tell me' questions. An incorrect answer incurs a 'driving fault' (Matthew answered both of his correctly). You will pass your test if you make 15 or fewer driving faults and no serious (or dangerous) faults. A dangerous fault is one that involves actual danger to anyone (including you and the examiner) or to any property. A serious fault is one that could potentially have been dangerous. A driving fault is one that, at the time, was not considered potentially dangerous, but making the same driving fault throughout your test could become a serious fault. Once we are all sat in the car, the examiner explains that the test will last approximately 45 minutes and that he is to follow the road ahead unless road markings or signs indicate otherwise. If the examiner wants you to turn left or right he will ask you in good time. For me, sitting in the back, I have to keep quiet and can have no influence. Sometimes the examiner might include me in the conversation, but, as a rule, I have to sit tight and shut up.

The examiner decided to get the reversing manoeuvre out the way and asked Matthew to pull out to the left or the right, straighten up, then reverse back into a bay. He is looking for control, accuracy and effective observation. This had been Matthew's least favourite manoeuvre, but he executed it perfectly.

He drove off and I began to relax. Really nice driving. Good approach to junctions and hazards. Over halfway through the test and absolutely nothing he could be faulted for; slightly over-cautious in a couple of meeting situations, but I would far rather he was cautious than take chances. We then came to a reasonably straight 30mph road with a bin lorry emptying the bins up ahead. Just beyond was a parked van on the other side of the road. If he acted quickly, he could comfortably overtake the bin lorry and safely return to his side of the road before the van became a problem. He hesitated and held back, just a fraction. The opportunity was then lost as the bin lorry neared the van and we had to wait until another gap appeared when the bin lorry had passed the white van. Hmmm. The examiner did not register anything on his sheet, but he might wait until later. It was certainly nothing serious though. 

Matthew continued to drive very nicely, dealing with some tough situations. The examiner asked him to pull over, then explained that the next section would be when he wanted Matthew to drive independently. For this part, they can either ask you to follow road signs (for example, 'follow road signs to Fort William'), or they can give you a series of directions (as opposed to step by step directions). He gave Matthew a combination of both. "I would like you to turn right at the end of the road, turn left at the next two roundabouts, then follow signs to Aberdeen." He then asked Matthew to repeat the instruction. There was a few minutes between the two roundabouts and, approaching the second, I thought his indicator was a touch early. Although there was no road between us and the roundabout, indicate too early and it could look as though you are parking. For the first time, I noticed the examiner put something on his marking sheet. Even though I thought the signal was only slightly early, I still worried that the examiner might have viewed it as serious. Ridiculous, because I knew it wasn't potentially dangerous, but I still worried.

I guess it was partly because there was definitely slightly more pressure on Matthew and me than usual. There is pressure on every test, if only because no-one wants to spend another £62 on a second attempt, but failing your test is NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. You have waited at least 17 years to get your licence. so it really is no big deal if you have to wait another few weeks (Ten working days is the minimum, but, in practice, it can be a lot more before you get another attempt). With Matthew, he was flying back to England the next day and, although his driving was easily good enough to pass wherever he chose to take his test, we really had been building up to this moment. And I know that his parents (my brother, Chris, and his wife, Sondra) would not have given it a thought if he doesn't pass but.......... I guess that, whenever someone doesn't pass, I always wonder if I have missed something in their instruction.

So now we were following signs to Aberdeen, through the busy Raigmore Interchange, and heading east on the A96. The examiner then asked him to follow signs to Culloden and Balloch. This took him right on a roundabout and into a slightly unusual road. Unusual in that it had regular streetlights, but was in fact a 60mph road. As he came off the roundabout he seemed to be slow getting the car going. With slight alarm I realised that he presumed that the street lighting mean that it was a 30mph speed limit. I could do nothing. I sat there, siliently urging him to look ahead where, in the distance, I knew there would be a reminder speed sign. fortunately he saw it, checked his mirrors to make sure that no-one was about to overtake, and put his foot down to get it up towards the speed limit. Eek. How would the examiner view that? Any vehicle behind would have expected him to accelerate towards 60mph after the roundabout, and may have been tempted to overtake when he was slow to do so. But, he had seen the first reminder sign and, importantly, had checked his mirrors before accelerating. I thought it could be viewed as a driving fault, but surely nothing serious?

Not far from the test centre now, but the bin lorry and the failure to see the national speed limit sign were heavy on my mind. As far as I was concerned, they were not serious, but I was not the one examining Matthew. Back at the test centre, he pulled carefully into a bay and the examiner asked him to switch off the engine. He looked down at his sheet and said "I'm pleased to tell you, Matthew, that you have passed." After the formalities of handing over the provisional licence and the paperwork, he quickly explained that he had recorded just two driving faults; one for hesitation at the bin lorry, and the other for indicating too early for the roundabout. He was obviously happy with the way Matthew realised that he was initially too slow, and corrected it, after the Culloden roundabout.

Matthew was delighted. It had been a very competent drive and to pass, first time, with just two driver errors is an excellent result. But it was well deserved. He had driven in every area I cover, from Elgin in the east, right up to Ullapool in the north-west, all of which provided different challenges. Jane rewarded him by taking him to sunny Findhorn for a walk on the beach and lunch outside the pub, overlooking Findhorn Bay, while I continued with quest to bring all my pupils to Matthew's standard.

The countdown.....

The day after Ben Wyvis was a little painful, but I was pleased how quickly the aching disappeared (unlike the blisters). Meanwhile, Matthew was progressing nicely. He was still sitting in on lessons (as long as my pupils were in agreement) and getting as much driving as possible inbetween. He asked if I could give him a mock test.
"We can do that, " I replied, "but I warn you that I will be strict and pick up on the slightest imperfection, otherwise there is no point."
I thought it went well, considering that we still had a week to go. I can't remember exactly, but I recorded just 5 driver errors (minor faults, if you prefer). But there were three moments I considered were serious.
He switched off the engine. "How do you think that went?" I asked him.
"Yeah, I thought that went well."
"Anything you weren't happy with?" and he talked about a couple of the things I had recorded as a minor driver error.
"How about the time when you moved out to allow traffic onto the A9 (dual-carriageway)? Your awareness and use of mirrors was really good, then you went passed them, but when should you have returned to the left lane?"
His face dropped a little, "The lane was busy."
"It was, but you had plenty of opportunity to return to the left lane earlier than you did."
"Then, toward the end, when I asked you to turn right at the roundabout, taking the fourth exit to Culloden, how were people to know where you were going?"
"I know, I forgot to indicate," he replied, "but I was watching the man at the pedestrian crossing."
"Yes, which obviously is good, but people approaching the roundabout still need to know where you are going." I don't think he was convinced. The trouble is, he sees no end of drivers approaching roundabouts (junctions) without indicators, so it might be understandable that he didn't consider it serious.
I'm struggling to remember what the other serious fault was, but I remember Matthew only grudgingly agreeing with me.
He was very quiet for a few hours afterwards. "Don't worry about it. There was no point doing a 'mock test' unless I picked up on everything that wasn't correct."
"I know, but three serious faults.'
"Yeah, but you (hopefully) understand why those things could have affected other road users, and (hopefully, again) you won't repeat them." He still wasn't happy.
The rest of the week continued to go well - more lessons, then, finally, a day off for Matthew while Joanna was busy passing her test in Elgin. "Can we do another mock test?" Matthew asked. We had two days to go. Would we be better off working on his weakness? And would a 'negative' result knock his confidence? But he really wanted another mock test, so I reminded him that I would be strict again.
At the end of the mock test I asked him "Ok, how do you think it went this time?"
He was hesitant, but I could see he wasn't disappointed. "I thought it was better."
"Anything that you think caused anyone else a problem? Or could have caused a problem?" He wasn't too sure.
"Just three minor errors this time, but......... (drumroll)..... No serious faults this time." His face lit up. "It was a nice drive. You just need to be a bit more aware of road signs and take in what information they give you. But carry on driving like that and you'll be fine."
The next day, inbetween lessons, we worked on his awareness and anything I thought could be polished further. He wanted an early night, but I thought that would be pointless, so Jane joined us for a trip to the cinema to see The Lone Ranger, which I thought was a bit too long, although good in parts. But Matthew loved it, and it did the job of taking his mind off the test.
I think I was getting more nervous than he was. Big day tomorrow.

Windswept and interesting

The next few days Matthew progressed nicely, picking up knowledge from sitting in on lessons, then putting it into practice when we had time between lessons. But I was concerned that it was all getting a bit concentrated. Time for a break.
A week or two ago my daughter, Rachel, had suggested that we all climb Ben Wyvis, the 3,432" mountain that dominates the landscape North of Inverness. The name derives from the Gaelic Beinn Uais, which apparently translates as Hill of terror. Of course, often when such things are suggested, everyone seems keen initially, but nothing happens. This time it actually went ahead.
Matthew and I were driving/instructing in Ullapool during the morning and arranged to meet everyone else at the car park, a few miles north of Garve, at 3.00pm. Of course, after weeks of calm, sunny days, the weather was now looking slightly menacing and the wind was really beginning to whip up.

Corrieshalloch Gorge

Corrieshalloch Gorge

Matthew and I took a very slight detour to Corrieshalloch Gorge, 12 miles south of Ullapool. The photos don't do it justice. The drop from the suspension bridge is just terrifying. But, if ever you are anywhere near Ullapool, it is well worth the short trip.

Matthew at Corrieshalloch Gorge

We met the others, as arranged. There was Jane, my wife, Rachel and her fiance, Jamie, and our eldest three grandchildren, Jordan, Charlie and Carmen, plus Jordan's friend, Job. I haven't told you about Dolly yet. She is our 'new' Jack Russell terrier. Actually, she is a year old now, and I will probably tell you more about her at some point. Anyway, she came too.

 Not everyone was suitably attired - Rachel thought Ugg boots were appropriate - but we were not in any hurry and the ground was dry. Off we marched, Jordan and his friend up at the front, and me at the back, lying to my grand-daughter Charlie about how much further it was. The initial approach is a long, continuous rise and a bit of a slog. Charlie was finding it hard going and, to my concern, so was I. For someone that, in the past, has run marathons, cycled from John O'Groats to Lands End and ascended peaks like this with ease, it was alarming how unfit I had become. It must be at least a couple of years since I have done any proper exercise and I was playing the consequences. My legs were fine, but my lungs just weren't accustomed to being used and I was beginning to think that I would have to tell the others to carry on to the top without me. The really embarrassing thing was we weren't even a quarter of the way up.
Every now and then, someone would stop to take a breather, have a drink, adjust clothing, or simply stop to admire the increasingly spectacular view. To my enormous relief, this gave my lungs time to adjust and, after a while, I was absolutely fine and stomping up the mountain without the slightest discomfort.
The thing with mountains is that the summit always seems much closer than it really is, usually because the true summit can't be seen from the slopes. The slope was getting steeper, the path was becoming increasingly zig-zaggy, the wind was becoming a roaring gale and we were all struggling. As we sheltered from the wind behind a mound of boulders, we decided that the sensible thing was to stop climbing and head back down the mountain. The climb itself was not too dangerous, but the wind was incredible.

But Jamie, Job, Matthew and I (with Dolly, of course) are not sensible, and carried on to the top (hopefully). The zig-zag nature of the path mean that sometimes we had our heads right down, using every muscle to push ourselves into the wind, then, as we turned the other way, the wind would push us up the hill - a relief, but you had to be careful not to let it push you too fast. Job decided it was too much and found more boulders to shelter and wait for us. Even Dolly was beginning to tremble. My legs were beginning to burn and my lungs had pushed my ribs to breaking point. The wind roared in my ears, caused my jacket to inflate and flap around me. My cheeks felt like they were being torn from my face, and streams of tears and snot flew from my eyes and nose, high up into the air, and off towards an unsuspecting fisherman, somewhere off the coast of Norway.

Near the top

After what seemed an age, Matthew, Dolly, Jamie and I finally reached the summit. Strictly speaking, it wasn't the very highest point - that was further along the long, humped ridge - but that was a walk, rather than a climb, so we decided that we need go no further. We sat, almost in silence. Funnily enough, the wind wasn't so bad right at the top, almost as though it had admitted defeat. There was no low cloud to obscure the view, so we could see forever in every direction. Sunbeams danced around the scenery, rivers seemed like tiny silver ribbons and clouds raced across the surrounding hills. It was enough to make you feel like a god. An utterly, utterly shagged god, but still a god.

Matthew, Dolly and I at the top

Jamie and I at the summit of Ben Wyvis

Matthew, Jamie and Dolly

The initial part of the descent was steep and totally unforgiving. My legs muscles burned with every step and my sinews and cartilage around my knees had turned to soup (Mulligatawny). Even Dolly was beginning to slow down. Until now she had been scooting up and down the mountain, probably covering at least twice the distance that we poor humans managed. Eventually, the slope began to level out a bit, giving very welcome relief, but it was a seemingly endless trek back to the car. By the time we finally reached the cars I was blistered, aching in virtually every part of my body and my lower jaw hung like an extra from the film Deliverance. But would I do it all again? Of course! Just give me a year to recover.

The first few days

Picking Matthew up from Inverness airport went smoothly. We had 40 minutes to kill, so I did a bit of commentary driving to give him a taste of the city and what things he should be considering whilst driving. I then had a lesson with Jade. I had already asked most of my pupils if they would mind Matthew sitting in on the lesson, and almost all of them were quite relaxed about it.
I had already planned to base Jade's lesson on anticipation, use of mirrors and emergency stops. No reason to alter that plan. Besides, it would liven Matthew up after his flight. The first two emergency stops were slightly cautious, but the third was excellent - it certainly did the job of waking Matthew up.
Matthew had already done a bit of driving with his dad, and felt confident(ish) about driving from Jade's house to the petrol station. Unfortunately, it seemed that someone had kindly abandoned their car at the pump while they did their weekly shop in the petrol station, and, as a consequence, vehicles were having to queue back out onto the dual-carriageway. I talked him carefully through it, but, later, when Jane asked him about his day, he described that bit as 'carnage'.
After that, we took turns to drive to Ullapool, then he sat patiently in the back of the car, watching lessons with Peter, Isobel, Chanel and Katie. The last pupil was a brand new pupil, so I suggested he wait in The Ceilidh Place, as I didn't think it would be fair on the pupil.
Day two was similar. Not too much driving for Matthew, but sitting in on lessons with Caitlin, Brian and Jade in Inverness, then lessons with Becky, Ben and Niall in Ullapool. However, I suggested that he drove the eighty mile journey home. Not too technical, but a good opportunity to get him reading the road well ahead at 60mph and adjusting his speed in plenty of time. It was a very promising drive until the very end when he stalled just outside our house, much to his frustration.
Day three: A one hour lesson with Sophie in Auldearn, then a two hour lesson with Jack in Forres/Elgin. So still not too much driving for Matthew (apart from sometimes driving between lessons), but he said that, sitting in the back, he was leaning a lot.
Next pupil, in Forres, was James. James was close to being the perfect pupil: He is always outside waiting at the start of each lesson; he usually has 2 1/2 hours a week (and has NEVER cancelled). And, he listens to every suggestion I make about how to improve his driving, then tries to work on it. He went for his driving test a few weeks ago (in Elgin) and shocked me by picking up one serious fault: Early on in the test a bus, in front of him, had indicated that it was going to stop. With oncoming traffic there was no immediate chance of overtaking, so James decided to slow right down and select first gear. All very sensible. Unfortunately, he put it into first gear before he had got right down to a slow walking speed. The bus then moved off again, much earlier than James expected (perhaps he could have looked to see how many passengers (if any) were waiting to board the bus). So James brought the clutch back up, when he was still going too fast for first gear. As a result, the car suddenly slowed down (with no brake lights, of course, to warn the vehicle behind). The examiner explained that the following vehicle was far enough behind to easily react, but, with no brake lights, would have anticipated that James would accelerate when the bus moved off, not slow down.
Unfortunately (as far as his driving is concerned), James is spending the next fortnight with friends in Nottingham, before moving to Switzerland in a couple of weeks time. We have both been checking for test cancellations in Elgin, to try and get him passed before he goes, but have now run out of time, so this was to be our last lesson. He has managed to get a test booked in Nottingham, a couple of days before he flies to Switzerland, so I thought we would try to cover every aspect of driving and aim for perfection. He achieved that aim. I gave him really awkward manoeuvres in busy areas, took him to areas he had never been before, yet he took it all in his stride.
Later that day, when Matthew and I were discussing what we had covered, he said "I liked James. I learned a lot from him. He seemed to give himself lots of time at roundabouts and was always looking all around the car." I wish James all the best in Switzerland and Nottingham. Keep driving like that and show those Nottingham drivers how it's done James.

" Is it raining? I hadn't noticed" (I'm too busy cursing my stupidity)

Thursday afternoon Matthew spent sitting in on more lessons. My diary was unusually well planned today (or so I thought). Each lesson led on to the next, instead of the usual jumping backwards and forwards.
My 2.30 - 4.00pm pupil (another Matthew) was starting in Auldearn and taking his first drive into Inverness, where I would meet a brand new pupil at the point that I would drop Matthew off. Inverness seemed unusually busy. It wasn't the best weather we have enjoyed recently, so I assumed that a lot of the traffic was tourists coming into the city, rather than enjoying the mountains and beaches. It was only later that I remembered that The Black Isle agricultural show and Belladrum music festival would also be bringing thousands of people into the area. I don't think I have ever seen Inverness so busy with traffic. Later on that afternoon, it would take me nearly twenty minutes to merge onto the A9 dual-carriageway from the slip road.
As we neared the end of Matthew's lesson, I asked him to head towards the train station, where I would drop him off and pick up Elizabeth for her first lesson. The trouble was, traffic was at a complete standstill and the lane that we needed for the station was completely backed up. I decided that the best option was to drive to a nearby area, then I would walk to the station to meet Elizabeth. A few problems with this idea: it was now raining quite heavily (and I was dressed for a summer's day); without my car Elizabeth would have no way of recognizing me (maybe I should get a Farle driving school top hat);  we had only previously communicated by email, so I didn't have her mobile number; and, finally, I had no idea what she looked like - all I knew that she was the girlfriend of someone who passed with me two years ago, so I guessed I was looking for a girl aged somewhere between 17 - 30, but, you never know, she might be older.
So I ran to Inverness train station, in the rain. By the time I got there I was drenched. Then, of course, there were many girls standing, waiting at the station. Which one was Elizabeth? Unless she was wearing a T-shirt printed with "I'm Elizabeth" (or even "I'm with Thomas"), I had no possible way of identifying her. I tried to inconspicuously look at each girl, quickly attempting to decide if they were Elizabeth, purely by 'gut feeling'. Several of the girls were using their mobile phones - I was now a couple of minutes late..... Were they trying to call/text me? Even more stupidly, I had left my phone back in the car. There was no option, I was going to have to approach each girl and ask if they were Elizabeth. Who should I approach first? I then saw two teenage girls with (presumably) their mum, looking towards the road. I felt very uncomfortable walking up to them. I looked at the two girls, one of them looked at me, so I asked "Elizabeth?" To my huge relief she said "Yes."
After scampering through the rain back to my car we had an enjoyable lesson, then I made damn sure I had her mobile number.

Perfection in parts

A real mixed bag of test results recently. Over the course of their lessons I get to know my pupils' driving their strengths and weaknesses. Then, when I think we have eliminated their weaknesses, they pass their test. At least, that is the plan. The trouble is, I have no control over what they do in those forty minutes of the test. I have had a few people recently who I was absolutely convinced would breeze through the driving test, but something silly happened and they failed.
Nerves are the usual problem. A couple of weeks ago Sarah had her first attempt. Being quite heavily pregnant, she had to choose between taking her test before or after the baby. In the weeks before her test she began to doubt her choice. But what reassured me was that, although she asked me all sorts of questions, many were about complex hypothetical scenarios, not simply 'how do I do this?' On the day of her test the glorious weather had brought even more tourists into Ullapool (although not as many as had been in the village the previous week for the World Skiff Rowing Championships). It obviously didn't matter. At the end of her test she stepped out of my car, proudly brandishing her pass certificate. "I passed!"
I looked at her test sheet. "You didn't just pass," I informed her, "you were perfect. Literally." Sarah had just become only my second pupil to pass with 0 driver errors. Absolutely fantastic.

Last Christmas my brother, Chris, his wife, Sondra, and son, Matthew, came to stay with us for a few days. Being 16 years old, the subject of Matthew learning to drive came up.
"Come up and stay with us for a while when you turn 17 and I'll be happy to teach you. " I suggested.
So, tomorrow morning, Matthew is flying up and spending a couple of weeks with us. And, as I have been so neglectful of this blog recently, I thought I would document his progress.
Stay tuned

Ding dong

We were hardly in the mood for it, but Thursday morning Jane and I flew from Inverness to Luton for the wedding of Chris, my youngest brother, to Sondra, from Canada.

To cut a long story short, we had a great time. Four days of doing practically nothing except lots of eating and drinking. Jane and I are both used to constantly thinking ahead, ticking off items in our mental 'to-do' lists. So it took a while to get used to sitting back and just letting things happen.

Many thanks to Ian and Leslie, and Mum and Peter for their generous hospitality. In between, I thought the staff at Horwood House struck an excellent balance between attentiveness and informality.

A couple of weeks before the wedding, Leanne, Sondra's sister sent secret emails to as many guests as possible, suggesting that we all did a spontaneous flash mob' dance at some point during the evening. It read "Hi! I'm Sondra's sister Leanne, and I'm trying to arrange something very special (and secret) for the wedding of Sondra and Chris: a flash mob! For those of you unfamiliar with the term, this is basically a surprise dance performed by everyone. The "choreography" is very, very simple; the effect is based on surprise and size. It's going to be tricky to arrange, with people coming from around the world, but that's just what makes it special; no way are they going to suspect that this is what we are up to!" You may have seen adverts, or clips on YouTube, where, suddenly, lots of people start dancing in a train station, for example. A nice idea, I thought. It would certainly be a surprise for them. I read the email and thought 'I will discretely keep out of the way – it may be a good time to go to the bar.' Further emails followed, with detailed instructions and even videos on YouTube on how to do the dance (to 'I got a feeling' by The Black Eyed Peas). The choreography was definitely NOT 'very, very simple', but then anything beyond pogo-ing is going to be complicated to me. I was not alone; both my mother and Ian, my other brother, were adamant that they would not be getting involved. We agreed that it would not matter because surely all the Canadian side of the family would be less reserved and happy to join the flash mob.
Friday morning, the morning of the wedding, and Jane and I went to Sondra's so that Jane could do her nails. Leanne was also there and, when Sondra was not listening, asked me if I had been practising the dance? 'Alas not,' I replied - what with Ullapool driving tests and Doris it had been the last thing on my mind - and I made some excuse about not getting time to see the video. "Oh, don't worry," she reassured me, "just follow what I do and there will be a bit where you and Matthew (Chris' son) do a little solo bit, so just follow Matthew at that point." Damn! There seemed to be no way out of this.

We went over to Ian's to get dressed for the wedding and I quickly went online to have a look at Leanne's YouTube video. I tried to con Ian into believing that he HAD to do the dance, so the two of us stood in his front room hopelessly practising this stupid dance - we couldn't even get past the first swirly-arm bit. We both took different options; Ian's was to point-blank refuse to do the dance, mine was to point-blank refuse to do the dance sober.
It was a great day. The weather was perfect, the hotel did a good job of looking after us without getting in the way, I did my MC-ing bit, the speeches were all good and everyone was having a good time. Chris and Sondra looked like they were bursting with happiness.
My step-daughter, Rachel, thought the prospect of me dancing completely hilarious and insisted that someone video the event. Unfortunately for her (but fortunately for me), no-one seems to have done so. So you will just have to take my word for it that, after some beers, wine, champagne and many Tanqueray and tonics, my performance in the flash mob dance would have brought a tear to the eye of Michael Jackson, Gene Kelly and the like.

Ups and downs and ups.

6.47am. Third (sometimes fourth) Wednesday in the month, so you know the score by now. I have x number of pupils taking their test in Ullapool. Yawn. Well, you don't have to read on if you don't want to.

We have been on a really good run. In March I had 6 pupils (out of 8) pass, then last month, all three passed (2 with 1 minor fault, 1 with 2 minor faults). Today I have 5 pupils on test. I am as confident as I can be about all of them, but you never know. Two of them in particular could be chauffeurs, their driving is so calm and precise, but all it takes is one momentary lapse and they come back with a fail.

9.50am. A good start. Congratulations to Matthew, passing with 3 minor faults on his first attempt. I enjoyed a Big Hot Roll (Bacon, sausage and egg) and a pot of Earl Grey at the Tea Store café while he was out and I was mildly concerned when I saw him approaching a motor-home that was stopped opposite the road he wanted to turn into, and immediately before a blind bend – it could not have picked a worse spot to park. No problem; he brought his speed right down, indicated and moved out nice and early before committing himself to pass (although a few minutes later I learned that one of his three faults had been selecting second gear a bit too early at that particular point). Anyway, a job well done and good luck with your band, 'Torridon', on the festival circuit this year.

11.01am. So far, so good. Kim, five months pregnant, and feeling under pressure to pass first time as a result, did just that; passing with 6 minor faults. As a passenger, she is possibly one of the most relaxing drivers I have had the pleasure to teach. A touch careless with the indicators and a bit of coasting, but I'm very pleased that both you and the examiner now agree with me that you can drive.

11.45am. Congratulations to Ruth. Another first-time pass. I shall miss our lessons. It was the theoretical questions she posed me that made her lessons one of the week's highlights. Questions such as “What do I do in my test if there is a spider in the car?” and, on one memorable occasion, when I asked her to pull up just by the next lamp-post, she asked “What's a lamp-post”? I considered that, being an intelligent lady, she was being all philosophical and existential, but no, she was just being dizzy. There were many more questions that tested the limits of my knowledge, but I hope I tested hers too.

Turned a bit chilly now. The sun is trying to come out, but the wind is a bit fresh. I am sat on a tree stump at The Pottery Centre, which is where the tests begin and end. My pupil currently out on test is the only one not taking her test for the first time today. I was so convinced she would pass last time (March), but she allowed herself to get too close to a slow-moving truck and consequently failed. Usually, I could let her drive around without saying a word, but nerves have got to her today and, in the four minutes we had to practice before her test, there were a couple of silly blips, such as slowing right down and engaging 1^st gear for a junction that could easily have been negotiated in 2^nd. Nothing serious, but it won't help her nerves. This is the trouble with Ullapool tests; because they are literally back-to-back, with barely 5 – 10 minutes between them, my pupils are often fairly 'cold' when they go out on test. Virtually all my pupils in other areas ask for an hour's lesson immediately preceding their test; I know I did when I took my test. However, I have two pupils in Elgin, with tests approaching, that both want to just meet me at the test centre, with no lessons beforehand. Their reasoning is that their nerves would build up in the hour before. I will go along with their wishes, but I have told them that I will keep that preceding hour free in case they change their mind.

I was amused earlier to learn that another instructor had been trying to poach one of my pupils. The cheek of it! Not just once, but on several occasions, he has asked her if she wants lessons with him, despite the fact that she has told him she is having lessons with me. Ultimately, it is the pupil's decision, but I just have to make sure that my pupils enjoy their lessons and feel as though they are making good progress. Hopefully then, they will stick with me rather than go with an unprofessional trainee instructor.

1.41pm. Alas, my fourth test pupil of the day was unsuccessful. She had to emerge out of a tricky uphill T-junction, with parked vehicles restricting her view on both sides. I wasn't sat in on the test, so I don't know, but the examiner said that she had not made thorough enough checks on both sides before emerging. At the moment she is angry and concerned that she has 'let me down'. She has done no such thing. I think her driving is comfortably good enough to pass the test, and she never lets me down in her lessons. Perhaps she honestly believed it was safe to emerge, but the examiner had not yet made up his mind. It's no big deal. It's not life or death and she'll get another chance before too long.

My last test pupil of the day is currently out, negotiating the coach-loads of tourists who are wandering aimlessly around the harbour area, and the other drivers who are doing U-turns in crossroads. I have to confess, I'm a bit jittery about her. Her last few lessons have been great and, at the end of her last lesson, I told her I was sad. “Why's that?” She asked. “Because you don't need me anymore.” was my (honest) reply. However, in the lesson immediately before her test she didn't seem to be concentrating fully and her steering was not as accurate as I would have liked. A bit of concentration though, and she should be fine.

2.39pm. Not enough concentration, obviously. Only a handful of minor faults, but a serious fault for her steering. (Hate to say I told you so, as The Hives once said). Sadly, she will not get another chance as she is returning to Poland in a couple of weeks as she and her fiancé prepare for their wedding. At least she went away smiling and confident that she would pass in Poland (so long as she maintains a bit more control on her steering).

As always (with the exception of last month), I am a bit disappointed not to have every pupil pass. Three out of five pupils isn't too bad, but it actually reduces my pass rate. Not that that is of any concern to Kim who has just text me to let me know that she has already sorted out her insurance and has been driving around the village on her own. That's what it is all about and I'm sure the two that did not pass today will soon be able to join her.
Just about time for a quick late lunch and yet another pot of tea before my last five lessons of the day (including two brand new pupils). So, despite the two hiccups and a very long day, I am rewarded with two of the best aspects of this job: Three test passes and new pupils. I would have a little dance, but I might spill my tea.