Thursday, 8 October 2009

Pupils!

I knew it was coming. My area spans the west end of the Moray Firth, which is framed by distant mountains. It is a beautiful morning now, but, for the first time since April, overnight rain fell as snow on Ben Wyvis and some of the other mountains. Picturesque it certainly is, but it is too mild to last at the moment, even at 3,000+ feet. It won't be long though before the mountains are capped with snow all the way through to next summer.
I am now warmed by mild schadenfreude this lunchtime. I am sitting on a bench, with an all-day breakfast sandwich and a coffee, overlooking the beautiful sandy beach at Lossiemouth and enjoying the bright autumn sun. I got back in the car to hear the radio DJ moaning that he is suffering from SAD because the weather in London is miserable.

It's nice to have a bit of a breather, especially after last night.
We were nearing the end of my last lesson of the day. We had been working on roundabouts for the last hour, practicing on minor roundabouts before moving on to the big boys. I had planned a route which looped from 4 roundabouts on the A96, up to the Fluke roundabout, left to Inshes roundabout, then up towards Culloden before dipping back down to the A96. A few nasty roundabouts on that route, but my pupil was dealing with them with increasing confidence.
Raigmore interchange is a big, fast roundabout that links the A9 dual-carriageway to the A96. The route had been taking us straight ahead on the A96, going under the A9, but this time I wanted my pupil to turn right, up on to the A9. The approach was fine, mirrors, signals, position, speed and gears were all good. He came up to the roundabout, looked right, then turned RIGHT (to go the wrong way round the roundabout)! At least, he tried to. I grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched it round to the left just in time to get back in the correct lane.
"You told me to turn right." He protested.
"But it's a ROUNDABOUT!"
"Oh...oh, yeah."
By now we were heading up the slip road for the A9, bringing the speed up towards the national speed limit and I was left without anywhere to pull him over and make sure he understood the situation. I'm sure he did understand, he just had 'a blip'. But a blip I could have done without.

Less exciting, but less comfortable was a situation this morning. My pupil was heading home and we were approaching a side road to turn right. She left her braking a little late and ended up having to stop the car because of an oncoming car. The car passed and she didn't move. Meanwhile, two cars are behind us and there is also a car in the side road waiting to turn right.
"Put your foot on the accelerator and bring the clutch up slowly."
Nothing.
"Put your foot on the accelerator and bring the clutch up slowly." I calmly repeated.
Nothing.
"Put your foot on the accelerator." I repeated a little more forcefully.
"Wait. Just let me think about it." She replied.
"No. We have people waiting. We need to clear the junction. Put your foot on the accelerator." (I had my foot on the dual-clutch to stop her from stalling). Finally she did so and I gestured to apologise to the other cars waiting patiently.
She asked me to drive the last couple of miles home, which I was happy to do, and I finished the lesson by suggesting that we would concentrate on right turns and crossing traffic in the next lesson. She seemed happy with that and I confirmed the time of our next lesson.
I have just learned that she has since called the office and cancelled her next lessons because she didn't enjoy this morning. Normally, I would call her and encourage her on her progress so far, then suggest that we find some quiet roads to practice those right turns on (this is a pupil who had moved beyond right turns to dealing with crossroads and roundabouts). However, she is moving away from the area on Monday so I will just wish her well with her future lessons.

I think that I'm as patient as anyone, but, when we are driving on roads shared by other people, I have to make sure my pupils give them consideration (no matter how obvious the 'L' plate). It may be a little scary dealing with pupils who try to turn the wrong way on a 60mph roundabout, but I would rather do that than have to apologise unnecessarily to other drivers because my pupil wanted to 'stop and think about things' in the middle of a junction.

Monday, 5 October 2009

(Culloden) Contracts Killer

Alpine clear skies meant that we had our first frost of the season, but it is now a beautiful morning with a warm, bright sun that has brought ultra-vivid colours to the scenery. Daisy is out on her 9.37am test, first attempt.

You may remember that I talked about 'Harry' a few weeks back. He was in a desperate rush to take his test, despite me saying that he was not ready. If you recall, he said 'his dad' had booked a last-minute test for him, which he was going to hire a car to take.
I sent him a text later that day, asking him how he got on. 'I didn't pass' was the short, but to-the-point reply. I decided not to bother him further, other than to let him know that I would always be happy to offer more help when he needed it (so far, no word from him). Anyway, on Saturday I learned that he had failed badly with four serious faults. As much as I don't want to, I guess this is my way of saying 'I told you so'. As I have said before (I think), let your instructor decide when you are ready to take your test. You (or your dad) may not agree, but your instructor has a far better idea of the standard required.
Daisy was undecided as to whether she wanted me to sit in the back of her car during the test. It is her decision - I will gladly sit in if a pupil prefers - but I steered her away from the idea. Her driving is fine, I know that and she knows it, but her nerves mean that she is constantly asking 'would that be a fault?', 'would I fail for that?', 'will the examiner tell me if I have done something wrong?' etc. If I sat in the test with her I think she would be too tempted to turn to me for help. To quote the wise words of Rihanna, "Shut up and drive."
She didn't pass. She braked a bit too sharply on approach to a T-junction and encroached on the wrong side of the road as she came up to a bend. As they say in the Bronx, NY, 'Poo happens'. Maybe it was a lack of concentration, maybe I had not been thorough enough in explaining the consequences of those two faults. The drive home after an unsuccessful test is never the best part of my job, but Daisy took it particularly badly. She has two young children and she desperately wants to be able to take them out without relying on buses. She can't see it yet, but the examiner was right to fail her for those faults. What could have happened if she had her children in the car and someone had gone into the back of her because she had braked too sharply? What happens if she gets into the habit of cutting across corners and, one day, there is a lorry coming round the bend on her side of the road? She really wasn't in the mood for a post-mortem of her test, so I told her to take a break from driving for a few days, then book a second attempt and contact me for some further lessons in good time before the test. I dropped her back at her house, very upset and angry because she thinks she is better driver than a lot of people who are already on the road. She is. But, she needs to be even better.
I drove away from Elgin, on the (60mph) A96, and, as I approached Alves, I could see a white van behind me gaining quickly. I watched him carefully as I approached the brow of a hill and was horrified to see him overtake me. I had been doing 60 mph, so he must have been in excess of 80mph with no way of knowing if there was anything coming up the other side of the hill. I braked so that he could pull back in as quickly as possible, but, thankfully, there was nothing coming the other way. So, to the driver of this white Ford Transit, registration SX06EHJ, belonging to Culloden Contracts, this time you (and I) got lucky, but keep driving like that and, one day, you'll be spread out on the tarmac like strawberry jam.
In the drive before her test, Daisy asked where I live. "Why do you ask?" I replied. "So that, when I fail, I can come and kill you." I think she was joking but, either way, that's two threats of death I have had this morning.

(Edit: I note that a few people have visited this page after searching online for 'Culloden Contracts'.... I am sure that their drivers are now the finest there is and should not be blemished with the actions of a driver that was with them 18 months ago)

Sunday, 4 October 2009

More P R 4 T 5

As a follow-up to my P R 4 T blog, a few days ago, one is amused to read the following article http://carloz.newsvine.com/_news/2009/09/28/3325007-vanity-thy-name-is-j4mes-police-catch-bank-robbers-who-used-car-with-personalized-license-plate

And while we are in a light-hearted mood,http://www.stumbleupon.com/s/#1ibD48/notalwaysright.com/youve-got-the-wrongest-number/2538/

Should I stay or should I go?

As Mick Jones (or was it Joe Strummer?) once said, “This indecision's bugging me (Esta undecision me molesta)”.

A slightly curious one this morning. A pupil, who is only a couple of lessons away from their test, has become overcautious at roundabouts. Not in the usual meaning though, where they stop at roundabouts and wait unnecessarily, missing gap after gap.
He had a nice approach; checking his mirrors, signalling in good time, confirming his position, slowing down, selecting the appropriate gear and looking for his gap. So far, so good. Then, for some reason, he sees his gap, accelerates, but keeps looking to the right (for any vehicles that he may have missed).
It was too important for me to discuss while on the move, so I pulled him over and discussed it.
“When you are approaching a T-junction, where should you stop if it is not safe to go?”
“Behind the give-way line.”
“Good. So, how do you decide if it is safe to go?”
“If I can move off without causing other vehicles to change speed or direction.” (Admittedly, he wasn’t really giving me these textbook answers, but he was giving me the correct answers).
“Is there a give-way line at a roundabout?”
“Yes.”
“So is it any different?”
“No.”
The point I was trying to make was that he should be making a decision to slow down/stop or go before the give-way line. Once he has decided that it is 100% safe, he should GO.
“Once you have made your decision to go, where should you be looking?”
“Ahead”
“Ok, good. So what would happen if had decided to go, but, because you were looking right, you saw a car coming round the roundabout?”
“I don’t know” (At least he was honest).
“Exactly, and if you don’t know now, you won’t know when you have to make a split-second decision on a roundabout, will you?”
We encountered numerous roundabouts after that. I had to keep guiding him because he still had this tendency to look to the right after he had decided to ‘go’, and he knew he was doing it. It got better, but I will keep my eye on that next lesson.
As I said, a slightly curious one. It is more common for drivers (and not just learners) not to give enough attention to traffic on the right.
A related problem is indecision when a pupil is just about to go through a pedestrian crossing, or traffic lights, when the lights change to amber. Hesitation could cause the driver to brake, accelerate, brake again, and end up stopped beyond the stop line. As with T-junctions and roundabouts, the key is to have made up your mind whether you are ‘staying or going’ before the lights change.

Rather than cheesily suggest the obvious track, here is a much better ditty from The Clash www.last.fm/music/The+Clash/_/I+Fought+the+Law

Friday, 2 October 2009

Metamorphosis

I need a little time To think it over
I need a little space Just on my own
I need a little time To find my freedom
I need a little...
Ok, stop. Where do you think our relationship is going? What do you want from our relationship?
Yesterday I blethered on about my ‘favourites’; the pupils who have made a commitment to learn to drive, and to be good drivers. I am in a relationship, an interdependency, a symbiosis with them. They have thought about what they want to get out of the relationship and are happy to pay me a significant amount of money. In return, they expect me to transform them from an ugly duckling, who staggers all over the road and has little control over their feet, to a graceful swan, who glides effortlessly along the roads and highways. They don’t think that it is ok to pay me less money just to get them to the stage of a clumsy, adolescent swan.
If you are learning to drive, are thinking of learning to drive, or are parents of potential learners, then we need to get one thing straight. This will cost money. Most instructors will offer a discount if you book, and pre-pay, a block of lessons (usually ten or more). Therefore, if you can afford it, this is the most cost-effective way to learn. The Government’s website (http://www.direct.gov.uk/en/Motoring/LearnerAndNewDrivers/PracticalTest/DG_4022483) says “Those who pass their driving test have had, on average, about 45 hours of professional training combined with 22 hours of private practice. Learners who prepare this way, with a combination of plenty of professional training and plenty of practice, do better in the test.” This is quite a shock to some parents. Many say “But, it only took me ten hours of lessons for me to pass my test!” Great. Bully for you. You were lucky to take your test when it was so much easier (as I did). So… 45 hours. If you get a good block discount, that will still cost you over £1,000 (£1,012 in my case). That, as I said earlier, is a significant amount of money. Then again, you could spend that much on 10 cigarettes a day for a year, a nice holiday or a decent telly, but you would spend the rest of your life relying on friends, taxis and public transport.
I have had to spend thousands of pounds learning how to teach people how to drive, so you are getting a bargain, even if it takes you more than 45 hours to learn to drive.
I have already moaned about a couple of pupils who want to take a chance on the test, despite me telling them that they are not ready. A couple of months back, I gave a pupil 12 hours of lessons. When I talked to her about booking the following week’s lessons, she said that she could not really afford it, and could she wait until she had passed her theory? Fine. I would rather she was honest than make excuses on the day of the lesson. Last night I had a call from her husband saying that she had passed her theory test, so should he book her driving test. I was straight with him, “No, not yet. She is not ready. She needs more lessons.” “But we can’t really afford more lessons and she wants to pass her test.”
The key word here is pass. I can’t stop her taking her test (in her own car). Go ahead, make the instructor’s day (it won’t). But it is a false economy. The test costs over £60 now. A few fails will be more expensive than a block of lessons.
I really wanted to say “Ok, book the test, but you’re on your own, I don’t want to know”, but I’m not like that. I suggested that he should try and teach her as much as possible in his car, but try to book as many lessons with me as they can afford. He will ‘get back to me’. That’s fine with me, I can spend my time concentrating on pupils who are intelligent enough to accept that this is an important, life-changing (life-saving) skill, which is more important than most other things they could spend their spare money on.
Times are tough for many people. Some of my pupils have to work over four hours just to pay for one hour’s driving lesson. So, if you are not a Premiership footballer, or a politician with an unlimited expense account, then just accept the fact that it may take a while to be good enough to pass your test. Can you afford a tenner a week? Then book one hour’s lesson a fortnight. What do you think? Or you could ignore me - what do I know - and book your test, fail it a few times, give up, spend more money on public transport and, a few years later go through the whole process again. Far-fetched? Unfortunately not. There are far too many ugly ducklings out there who could easily be beautiful swans with a bit of commitment on their part.

Thursday, 1 October 2009

You're my favourite

Talking of favourites....

I don’t tell her this (although I think she knows), but out of our three dogs, Doris, the terrier is my favourite. I love her character, but then I love Daphne and Jilly’s character too; I suspect it is just that we got Doris before the other two.

I know I shouldn’t, but I also have favourites when it comes to my pupils too.
Tuesday was a good day; I had five of my favourite pupils:
First, Michaela. She has booked 25 hours of lessons over a period of twelve days, but she is one of my favourites because she analyses every aspect of her driving (almost too much, Michaela).
Second, Glynn. Test booked in just over a week. Very cheerful and we have interesting chats about being a chef.
Next, Anna. Always smiling and always looking to improve.
Then, Adam. Very polite and committed to being the best driver he can possibly be. Always looking to learn from every situation.
Finally, Daisy. Wanted to pass before the summer, but lost the race against time due to giving birth (her baby was so inconsiderate).

Wednesday was equally chock-full of favourites:
First, Nicola. Used to work in The Swan, Northall, England, where I have enjoyed the odd half-pint.
Then, Maureen. Nice to see smiling Maureen for the first time in three months (due to illness). She drove as though she had never been away.
Next, Ashley. Complete with new hairdo, Ashley is possibly the most natural driver I have ever taught….. Unfortunately, the theory test does not come naturally to her.
Finally, Erin. Recently accepted to study Medicine at uni’, but taking a gap year to work in a medical centre in Cambodia, so we have lots of interesting chats about foreign climes.

Today is bulging with favourites, too. And so is tomorrow. In fact, a bit like Brucie on Strictly…, they are really all my favourites. Well….. All except the odd one that pesters me to let them take their test before they are ready.

Cheeky

My favourite 'cheeky quote' (see left side of blog) so far:
I hate housework. You make the beds, you do the dishes - and six months later you have to start all over again.
Joan Rivers

(I wonder why Jane would roll her eyes at the fact that this is my favourite?)