Since leaving England six years ago, I have hardly driven. I have got behind the wheel on our returns to the UK to try and keep it up and for it not to seem too alien, but apart from that I have been a mostly public transport girl.
We sold our (English) car a couple of months after arriving in Munich, using our bikes and public transport to get around the city instead, and we didn't miss it one bit.
In Sevilla T needed a car to get to work. We ended up buying one in England (the day before our wedding, as you do...), and then driving it back to Spain. Or should I say T had to drive it the whole way as I couldn't be insured on it as I was under 30 - it was a Freelander, not anything particularly flash or powerful, but it was a complication to do with having an English car in another country: insurance companies that would provide cover - and English-speaking ones - were difficult to find. We eventually found an insurance company based in Gibraltor, and I got insured, but I wasn't too keen on driving in Spain, around the towns at least - I had seen quite a few sights to put me off. The one that particularly stick in my memory was someone reversing around a roundabout to get to their turn off. It wasn't a big roundabout, was reasonably busy, and they stopped and then reversed around it to get to their exit...
We sold our (English) car a couple of months after arriving in Munich, using our bikes and public transport to get around the city instead, and we didn't miss it one bit.
In Sevilla T needed a car to get to work. We ended up buying one in England (the day before our wedding, as you do...), and then driving it back to Spain. Or should I say T had to drive it the whole way as I couldn't be insured on it as I was under 30 - it was a Freelander, not anything particularly flash or powerful, but it was a complication to do with having an English car in another country: insurance companies that would provide cover - and English-speaking ones - were difficult to find. We eventually found an insurance company based in Gibraltor, and I got insured, but I wasn't too keen on driving in Spain, around the towns at least - I had seen quite a few sights to put me off. The one that particularly stick in my memory was someone reversing around a roundabout to get to their turn off. It wasn't a big roundabout, was reasonably busy, and they stopped and then reversed around it to get to their exit...
In Sevilla people would leave their handbrakes off so you could push the car forward/backward slightly as parking spots were so tight.
One day I was sat outside having a drink with T's mum on a backstreet near the cathedral, when one of the park cars started rolling forwards...straight towards another car. Luckily the window was open, and someone was able to pull on the handbrake before it hit the other car...!
I did pluck up the courage to drive on the open roads though, sharing the miles with T on our drives back to London to get the car MOT'd, and then when we left Spain to return to Munich. Fairly quiet dual carriageways made up the majority of the miles/kilometres on these road trips, no complicated cities and their one way systems and large amounts of traffic (well, apart from the time the satnav took us through the centre of Brussels - luckily T was behind the wheel in that instance!).
On our second stint in Munich we had the car, but I couldn't be insured on it again as I was still under the age of thirty.
Not that I minded, as the drivers were pretty aggressive, and liked to accelerate quickly, and then break quickly in the short distance between traffic lights.
But they did have nice cars on the whole: BMW, Mercedes, Audi... (Being close to the BMW factory, we would quite often see future new BMW models driving around, racking up the test miles, their features all covered up.)
I was insured in Montreal from the start, but I always made my excuses.
The drivers there weren't the friendliest bunch. Trying to pull out into another lane, or even attempting to get on the freeway from the slip road, and they wouldn't be willing to let you in - you really had to barge your way through the lanes of traffic.
I am not a barging kind of a person. This was even if the traffic was hardly moving due to the sheer volume - which was very, very common in Montreal.
In the deepest depths of winter I used the excuse of all the snow and ice.
The drivers there weren't the friendliest bunch. Trying to pull out into another lane, or even attempting to get on the freeway from the slip road, and they wouldn't be willing to let you in - you really had to barge your way through the lanes of traffic.
I am not a barging kind of a person. This was even if the traffic was hardly moving due to the sheer volume - which was very, very common in Montreal.
In the deepest depths of winter I used the excuse of all the snow and ice.
Then, when we knew for sure we were going to come out to Australia, I came up with the excuse of not wanting to confuse myself driving on the wrong side of the road...
...which was a pretty good excuse I think.
(Australia, of course, drives on the left hand side - the same as the UK.)
(Australia, of course, drives on the left hand side - the same as the UK.)
But now, I have finished with all the excuses.
I am driving!
I am driving!
I have started to drive out on my own a bit, getting used to the car, busy roads etc.
My first jaunt by myself was to the supermarket - I know, I live wildly.
I mapped out a route along the back roads, avoiding the main road, called Military Road; three lanes of traffic either way, one lane dodging the parked cars and buses.
I reached the supermarket, but couldn't find the carpark. As I looked for it, I was swept along by cars behind me...and ended up on the busy Military Road!
Not only that, but the junction onto Military Road didn't have traffic lights, so I had to try and judge an opening and shoot out there. I saw my chance.
I went.
I found myself directly behind a bus stopping at a bus stop.
And no driver would let me out.
Eventually the bus moved on and I ducked out on the first side road I saw, heart pounding.
My first jaunt by myself was to the supermarket - I know, I live wildly.
I mapped out a route along the back roads, avoiding the main road, called Military Road; three lanes of traffic either way, one lane dodging the parked cars and buses.
I reached the supermarket, but couldn't find the carpark. As I looked for it, I was swept along by cars behind me...and ended up on the busy Military Road!
Not only that, but the junction onto Military Road didn't have traffic lights, so I had to try and judge an opening and shoot out there. I saw my chance.
I went.
I found myself directly behind a bus stopping at a bus stop.
And no driver would let me out.
Eventually the bus moved on and I ducked out on the first side road I saw, heart pounding.
I am a country driver - I am far more used to winding roads, overtaking tractors, rather than lanes of traffic in the city.
So the sheer volume of traffic, oh and watching for pedestrians and all that malarky, is some getting used to. But I am getting there...
...I plucked up the courage and went for it when we drove to Newcastle: setting off in a torrential downpour, five lanes of traffic on the motorway, busy etc etc. I realized I had to stop thinking about it and get out there.
So far, so good...
...and what a great sense of freedom!
So the sheer volume of traffic, oh and watching for pedestrians and all that malarky, is some getting used to. But I am getting there...
...I plucked up the courage and went for it when we drove to Newcastle: setting off in a torrential downpour, five lanes of traffic on the motorway, busy etc etc. I realized I had to stop thinking about it and get out there.
So far, so good...
...and what a great sense of freedom!