Driving: On the road again
I was never interested in taking driving lessons. H and her sisters were encouraged at the earliest time possible to be mobile.
It reminds me of when I meet her parents for the first time. H picked me up from the station with her fathers open sports car. This was the first encounter with her driving skills and was I glad when we arrived! It's not that she couldn't drive, just the opposite. It still reminds me of the car driving scene in 'To catch a Thief' with Grace Kelly behind the wheel and Cary Grant holding on for dear life!
In my youth and quite some time after that I never saw the need to learn to drive; it was partly because it wasn’t really necessary. Dad took me to school mornings and Mum picked me up. I had a bike but for the life of me I can’t remember why I didn’t use it all the time - the distance was only 2.5 km!
When I went up to the pub Friday nights I walked there and back home afterwards. Always alone as nobody I knew lived in my direction. Sometimes to break the monotony for the 40 minute walk home, I would have my pre-walkman cassette player with me.
The picture shows what they looked like at the time. Mine was similar and with a carrying strap at the front. I usually had it placed on the inside of my lower arm with my hand through the strap allowing my fingers to double back and get at the control buttons and volume. This also allowed me to keep it in place while walking and to adjust the sound level depending if I was close to houses or not.
One night about half past eleven [Ed: The pubs closed at 11 in the 60s], I stopped under a street light to turn the cassette over. And just as I was opening the cover, a car draw up beside me and a stern voice asked what I was doing. I looked round and there was a police panda car with the window down and just as stern face in the street light looking up at me.
I sobered up pretty quick and walked over to the open window and in the half light smiled at the two officers. Without any verbal explanation I went into a ‘and now for my next trick’ routine and pantomimed what I was doing before being interrupted. I showed the cassette machine perched on my right arm. I held up in the left hand with my thumb and forefinger the extracted cassette making sure the other fingers were sprayed out to show that there was nothing else in my hand. I then waved the cassette around a bit making sure my audience recognised what it was and then demonstratively placed the cassette in the machine and closed the lid. To finish off my ‘trick’ I switched it on and the sound of The Moody Blues atoned.
They seemed to have come down from interrogation mode somewhat after realising what I was up to. And in a not so stern voice I got cross examined about where was I coming from and going at this time of night. I explained I was on my way home from the pub and gave them my street name. They accepted I was not way off from the direct route home and not up to no good. I got a prep talk about going directly home and drove off.
As I wandered on I tried to get my mind around what had just happened and why. Ok I was walking alone and the street was disserted. It was a bit late but not that much. Hadn’t they got anything better to do than stop everybody they see out at this time of night? I was not that perturbed of being ‘interrogated’ that much but why me? I wasn’t doing anything unusual, or was I?
And then it hit me.
From the road anyone driving by may have got the impression I was doing something else with my left hand than just fiddling about over something fixed to my inner lower arm. It dawned on me that the men in blue may have got the impression from my position and stance in the street light that I was giving myself a ‘fix’ of some sort and not in this case getting a ‘high’ from just music!
As I didn’t need that much alcohol to ‘benefit’ from the effects, a car would have been out of the question, just a hindrance and in my eyes a waste of money. I would rather (and did) spend my money on LP’s than on petrol. Also most of my friends had their own transport and I could always hitch a ride if need be. Another reason for not wanting to drive was again on my way home from the pub on a Friday night when there was an accident with fatalities which I indirectly witnessed. (see Boat Train Part 3 Interlude)
While in the sixth form I use to skip my last class once a month and with bus, train and tube went up to London to the British Astronomical Association and British Interplanetary Society meetings. I had the chance to discuss telescopes and unearthly things with (Sir) Patrick Moore, my parents never knew I was up in the Smoke. When I got home late, I said I had been at friends learning for something or other. I think they would have been concerned if I had said where I really had been on me Todd. The round trip was about 2 hours which allowed me to either read a book or musical score which was a whole lot better than sitting behind a wheel in a traffic jam.
If I went up to London at the weekends it was always on the trains. When I had my flat in Chelsea for the summer (proming), a car would have been in the way. When I started working in the hospital (see London: Visiting Patient) in the near from Covent Garden, the tube and train was the most effective method of getting around and as I always had a penguin paperback in my pocket I could for most of the journeys read in peace.
My parents didn’t really try and push me into talking the test. There was no mention of it at all, I certainly didn’t bring it up. Maybe it was due too being blind in my left eye. It may have been dangerous in their "eyes", no idea. Also I was never interested in cars, more into electronics, astronomy and of course the piano. As I was a little anti-dad in my youth, and anything "he" was interested in "I" wasn't per se. He worked for a car manufacture this probably didn’t help matters. Also I had bad experiences growing up with driving around or on holiday with them in the car. No reckless driving or anything like that, only that my parents were chain smokers and riding in a car full of smoke and the smell of plastic seats especially in summer made me regularly car sick. What felt like every few miles I had to ask to get out and pretend to be sick but it was so I could breathe in some fresh air!
It was H that pushed me or to put it correctly gave me an ultimatum. Do the test or else! I was 33. In Germany in the 80s the minimum number of lessons one had to have was directly proportional to ones age.
Can’t remember how many lessons I took but it was quite a few. I had all my driving lessons in Cologne on a car with gears. They went much better than I imagined, even sitting on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the street.
One also has to have a written examination and apart from having to learn the Highway Code by heart you had to calculate speeds and braking distance etc. I though I would need a calculator to work it all out! I passed with full points.
Again I was surprised as it was all in German!
As I have only one working eye I had to have a further test before the practical test. This extra test was for visually impaired people and in a semi dark room. The test was in two parts. In the first part slides were shown for two seconds and you then had to tick boxes next to what you had or thought you had seen. The content was not complicated; there was a road scene with a pedestrian, cyclist and a vehicle of some kind in different combinations and situations. In all there were about 20 slides and you really had to concentrate not to miss or imagine something.
The next part was what I called the ‘spaghetti test’. Again 20 slides but this time it was always the same diagram with ten small squares along the top with the numbers 1 to 10 written in them and at the bottom of the slide again ten small squares with the letters A to J in them. Each number along the top was connected to a letter along the bottom with a curvy wiggly line going all over the place in and out of the other lines before arriving at one of the letters at the bottom. I had to be as quick, noting down the number/letter combination before the slide disappeared. I realised after the first slide one had to remember the last four combinations otherwise one hadn’t enough time to write them down before the next one appeared. Again I had no problem.
Where I did have problems was with the practical test.
My instructor was in the back with the second candidate and I behind the wheel with the test instructor next to me. We exchanged pleasantries and we were off. All was going well until I was asked to turn into a residential area. After about 30 meters I came to a junction with four exits: left, right, straight on and the 4th. half way between left and straight on. As we were approaching I was waiting for the test instructor to tell me where he wanted me to go. There came nothing, only silence. This confused me somewhat as there were four exits to choose from. I was moving slowly as it was residential and started to look around to make up my own mind how to proceed. And then the dreaded bell sounded and we came to a dead stop. From behind me I heard a low groan from my instructor and realised I was not the one that had hit the brakes but the test instructor on the dual controls! I knew instantly I had failed and sank inwardly together.
In this situation I should have stopped before entering the junction but I had entered without indicating which exit I wanted to use. I explained that I thought he was going to tell me where I should go. He smiled and told me to take a good look at the roads available. As I scanned them, it dawned on me that I hadn’t any choice in the matter, as there was only one possible exit as the other three were one way streets with the appropriate sign to indicate this!
Four weeks later I repeated the test in the first snow of the year as well as black ice! And to top it all, without telling me my instructor had the day before had the car in the garage for inspection and an overhaul! As soon as I drove off I realised the clutch and accelerator had been adjusted and I began to, as the Australians say, ‘kangaroo hop’!
After a few moments of shaking everybody about in the car, I got the hang of it and after a while things quietened down. I’m glad to say I passed this time without any mishaps apart from a little sea sickness all round.
It reminds me of when I meet her parents for the first time. H picked me up from the station with her fathers open sports car. This was the first encounter with her driving skills and was I glad when we arrived! It's not that she couldn't drive, just the opposite. It still reminds me of the car driving scene in 'To catch a Thief' with Grace Kelly behind the wheel and Cary Grant holding on for dear life!
In my youth and quite some time after that I never saw the need to learn to drive; it was partly because it wasn’t really necessary. Dad took me to school mornings and Mum picked me up. I had a bike but for the life of me I can’t remember why I didn’t use it all the time - the distance was only 2.5 km!
When I went up to the pub Friday nights I walked there and back home afterwards. Always alone as nobody I knew lived in my direction. Sometimes to break the monotony for the 40 minute walk home, I would have my pre-walkman cassette player with me.
The picture shows what they looked like at the time. Mine was similar and with a carrying strap at the front. I usually had it placed on the inside of my lower arm with my hand through the strap allowing my fingers to double back and get at the control buttons and volume. This also allowed me to keep it in place while walking and to adjust the sound level depending if I was close to houses or not.One night about half past eleven [Ed: The pubs closed at 11 in the 60s], I stopped under a street light to turn the cassette over. And just as I was opening the cover, a car draw up beside me and a stern voice asked what I was doing. I looked round and there was a police panda car with the window down and just as stern face in the street light looking up at me.
I sobered up pretty quick and walked over to the open window and in the half light smiled at the two officers. Without any verbal explanation I went into a ‘and now for my next trick’ routine and pantomimed what I was doing before being interrupted. I showed the cassette machine perched on my right arm. I held up in the left hand with my thumb and forefinger the extracted cassette making sure the other fingers were sprayed out to show that there was nothing else in my hand. I then waved the cassette around a bit making sure my audience recognised what it was and then demonstratively placed the cassette in the machine and closed the lid. To finish off my ‘trick’ I switched it on and the sound of The Moody Blues atoned. They seemed to have come down from interrogation mode somewhat after realising what I was up to. And in a not so stern voice I got cross examined about where was I coming from and going at this time of night. I explained I was on my way home from the pub and gave them my street name. They accepted I was not way off from the direct route home and not up to no good. I got a prep talk about going directly home and drove off.
As I wandered on I tried to get my mind around what had just happened and why. Ok I was walking alone and the street was disserted. It was a bit late but not that much. Hadn’t they got anything better to do than stop everybody they see out at this time of night? I was not that perturbed of being ‘interrogated’ that much but why me? I wasn’t doing anything unusual, or was I?
And then it hit me.
From the road anyone driving by may have got the impression I was doing something else with my left hand than just fiddling about over something fixed to my inner lower arm. It dawned on me that the men in blue may have got the impression from my position and stance in the street light that I was giving myself a ‘fix’ of some sort and not in this case getting a ‘high’ from just music!
As I didn’t need that much alcohol to ‘benefit’ from the effects, a car would have been out of the question, just a hindrance and in my eyes a waste of money. I would rather (and did) spend my money on LP’s than on petrol. Also most of my friends had their own transport and I could always hitch a ride if need be. Another reason for not wanting to drive was again on my way home from the pub on a Friday night when there was an accident with fatalities which I indirectly witnessed. (see Boat Train Part 3 Interlude)
While in the sixth form I use to skip my last class once a month and with bus, train and tube went up to London to the British Astronomical Association and British Interplanetary Society meetings. I had the chance to discuss telescopes and unearthly things with (Sir) Patrick Moore, my parents never knew I was up in the Smoke. When I got home late, I said I had been at friends learning for something or other. I think they would have been concerned if I had said where I really had been on me Todd. The round trip was about 2 hours which allowed me to either read a book or musical score which was a whole lot better than sitting behind a wheel in a traffic jam.
If I went up to London at the weekends it was always on the trains. When I had my flat in Chelsea for the summer (proming), a car would have been in the way. When I started working in the hospital (see London: Visiting Patient) in the near from Covent Garden, the tube and train was the most effective method of getting around and as I always had a penguin paperback in my pocket I could for most of the journeys read in peace.
My parents didn’t really try and push me into talking the test. There was no mention of it at all, I certainly didn’t bring it up. Maybe it was due too being blind in my left eye. It may have been dangerous in their "eyes", no idea. Also I was never interested in cars, more into electronics, astronomy and of course the piano. As I was a little anti-dad in my youth, and anything "he" was interested in "I" wasn't per se. He worked for a car manufacture this probably didn’t help matters. Also I had bad experiences growing up with driving around or on holiday with them in the car. No reckless driving or anything like that, only that my parents were chain smokers and riding in a car full of smoke and the smell of plastic seats especially in summer made me regularly car sick. What felt like every few miles I had to ask to get out and pretend to be sick but it was so I could breathe in some fresh air!
It was H that pushed me or to put it correctly gave me an ultimatum. Do the test or else! I was 33. In Germany in the 80s the minimum number of lessons one had to have was directly proportional to ones age.Can’t remember how many lessons I took but it was quite a few. I had all my driving lessons in Cologne on a car with gears. They went much better than I imagined, even sitting on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the street.
One also has to have a written examination and apart from having to learn the Highway Code by heart you had to calculate speeds and braking distance etc. I though I would need a calculator to work it all out! I passed with full points.
Again I was surprised as it was all in German!
As I have only one working eye I had to have a further test before the practical test. This extra test was for visually impaired people and in a semi dark room. The test was in two parts. In the first part slides were shown for two seconds and you then had to tick boxes next to what you had or thought you had seen. The content was not complicated; there was a road scene with a pedestrian, cyclist and a vehicle of some kind in different combinations and situations. In all there were about 20 slides and you really had to concentrate not to miss or imagine something.
The next part was what I called the ‘spaghetti test’. Again 20 slides but this time it was always the same diagram with ten small squares along the top with the numbers 1 to 10 written in them and at the bottom of the slide again ten small squares with the letters A to J in them. Each number along the top was connected to a letter along the bottom with a curvy wiggly line going all over the place in and out of the other lines before arriving at one of the letters at the bottom. I had to be as quick, noting down the number/letter combination before the slide disappeared. I realised after the first slide one had to remember the last four combinations otherwise one hadn’t enough time to write them down before the next one appeared. Again I had no problem.
Where I did have problems was with the practical test.
My instructor was in the back with the second candidate and I behind the wheel with the test instructor next to me. We exchanged pleasantries and we were off. All was going well until I was asked to turn into a residential area. After about 30 meters I came to a junction with four exits: left, right, straight on and the 4th. half way between left and straight on. As we were approaching I was waiting for the test instructor to tell me where he wanted me to go. There came nothing, only silence. This confused me somewhat as there were four exits to choose from. I was moving slowly as it was residential and started to look around to make up my own mind how to proceed. And then the dreaded bell sounded and we came to a dead stop. From behind me I heard a low groan from my instructor and realised I was not the one that had hit the brakes but the test instructor on the dual controls! I knew instantly I had failed and sank inwardly together.
In this situation I should have stopped before entering the junction but I had entered without indicating which exit I wanted to use. I explained that I thought he was going to tell me where I should go. He smiled and told me to take a good look at the roads available. As I scanned them, it dawned on me that I hadn’t any choice in the matter, as there was only one possible exit as the other three were one way streets with the appropriate sign to indicate this!
Four weeks later I repeated the test in the first snow of the year as well as black ice! And to top it all, without telling me my instructor had the day before had the car in the garage for inspection and an overhaul! As soon as I drove off I realised the clutch and accelerator had been adjusted and I began to, as the Australians say, ‘kangaroo hop’!After a few moments of shaking everybody about in the car, I got the hang of it and after a while things quietened down. I’m glad to say I passed this time without any mishaps apart from a little sea sickness all round.
Leave a Comment