Wish #9: Pass my driving test

Why? Driving offers a new world of independence and it’s something I feel ready for.  When I was 17 all my friends were eager to get behind a wheel and break free from their adolescent, parent-hating ways and become mature young adults.  Thankfully I never really had a rebellious teenage phase; I agreed with my parents and got on with my siblings.  When it came to learning to drive, though, I just didn’t feel ready at all.  With a new confidence and belief in myself after 3 years at University, I decided I was ready to take the plunge and learn to drive.

The essentials for learning to drive

I telephoned my sister’s old driving instructor, 8 years after she took her test, and was told that he’d retired.  Instead, I was recommended a guy name Haydn, so I gave him a call and we arranged a first lesson to see how we got on.  He seemed very friendly on the phone but little could calm my nerves when I first got in his car.   He drove us to a quiet road and we parked up near a big oak tree protruding through a garden fence.  Then he said we were going to switch seats. The prospect of me having to get in on the wrong side of the car terrified me.  Although I’d seen them countless times, the dials and lights and buttons felt alien to me.  In fact it felt like a spaceship; how on Earth was I going to make this machine move?  Haydn didn’t realise what he was letting himself in for.

Still, some sketches of the clutch and correct road position etc made me a little more confident and I began learning from the word ‘Go’.  Within no time, I was familiar with all sorts of expressions: ‘ten to two’ and ‘find the bite’ formed the very beginnings of my new Car Language.  Somehow, after only 20 minutes of me being in the car, I was making it move forwards, in a straight line and relatively safely, which felt like a miracle in itself.  A new patch of road opened up to me and my heart pounded as the realisation that I was actually driving a car dawned on me.

For the first few lessons we stuck to the same familiar quiet roads and practised a few of the basic technical stuff until I was ready to be let loose on busier roads.  My first encounter with a roundabout was horrific and I still don’t like them much.  The quick-thinking and decision-making sent me all a-fluster and it wasn’t something I was good at.  Haydn kept me calm and talked me through things slowly and he really made sense.  Having him sitting next to me was a real lifeline and the prospect of one day not having him in the car seemed unimaginable.  It didn’t take us long to become well acquainted and he realised I was a bit of a nut case, so our mindless nattering made me look forward to my lessons.  He really built up my confidence and he has the patience of the most saintly of saints.

My flawed but loyal Ford Fiesta, Howard, added another dimension to learning to drive.  He may look pretty in his shiny dark blue coat but underneath he’s a croaky middle-aged grump, much like my father in the passenger seat.  With my seat as far forward as it would go, the clutch pedal still felt a little too far away.  The first “lesson” I had with my Dad was as I was just getting used to changing gear and meeting other traffic, and in an empty carpark he told me to reverse.  REVERSE?  Woah there!  Travelling forwards was strange enough and he didn’t understand what I needed him to help me with.  His mentality was that he could reverse, so why couldn’t I?  His expectations of me were once again as high as the sky and I couldn’t do what he wanted, so I turned off the engine, unclipped my seatbelt and got out of the car.  I didn’t want to drive any more and my self confidence had been smashed in a matter of minutes.

It was a delicate time after that, and Haydn had a tough job getting me back to where I was.  Slowly but steadily I began enjoying lessons again and I could see the learning curve in front of me.  I happily took the car keys from Haydn and no longer needed to be forced into the driver’s seat.  Cockpit checks had become second nature and I wanted to know more, learn faster and get better.  I got to the stage where I was making mistakes and I was very aware that I could do better.  At the end of one awful lesson, Haydn told me I’d moved from “unconsciously incapable” to the “consciously incapable” stage.  Hearing those words made me upset for some reason, and it was a bit of a turning point.  I wanted to reach the “consciously capable” stage in an instant.  Lesson after lesson from then on, I made a mental note of things I had learned that I didn’t know how do to before.  Spirits lifted, I was becoming a much better driver.  All too soon, though, my time with Haydn was coming to an end: four more lessons before my practical test.

Haydn told me he was going to have shoulder surgery and that he couldn’t continue teaching me.  It felt like a massive blow to the chest and I couldn’t help but feel lost.  He said he’d ask another instructor to get me “test ready” but I didn’t want anybody else.  He’d been the one on that took me to the big tree on my first day and the person reminding me why I wanted to learn to drive, after the incident with my Dad.  Haydn spoke fondly of Evan, my new instructor.  I was told he was 28 years old and quite reserved but a “very nice lad”.  Nice enough, in fact, for Haydn to joke about the idea of he and I getting along so well that I’d want to marry him.  I was dubious – I don’t like change – but Haydn was right.  I don’t want to marry Evan but the transition between instructors went much more smoothly that I anticipated.  It was even good practise to get used to having an unfamiliar person in Haydn’s place before my test.

Test day came and I was feeling nervous – really nervous.  I treated it like an academic exam and told myself that fretting wouldn’t do any good.  Stay calm, breathe, it’s no big deal, just do the best I can.  Pretend it’s another lesson. So I did… and it paid off.  Pulling into the test centre after the longest 35 minutes of my life and I was so pleased to see Evan waiting for me, folding his arms and beaming a proud smile at me before I’d even turned the engine off.  It was as though he knew something I didn’t.  I waited in silence as the examiner filled in bits of paper and got something out of his file.  Then, these lovely words: “Right then Olivia, I’m pleased to tell you that you’ve passed your driving test today —”.  Everything he said after that sounded muffled.  I didn’t do a very good job of concealing my happiness from Evan through the windscreen.   Lots of bits of paper and leaflets were handed to me and it was all a bit of a blur.  Before I knew it Evan was giving me a lift home.  It was a good day, I couldn’t quite believe I had passed.

I really like Evan, he’s a great instructor and Haydn couldn’t have given me a better replacement.  But after all of Haydn’s patience and hard work from Day 1, I really wanted him there to see me pass.  As soon as I got home, he was the first person I called.

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