I bit the bullet earlier this week and booked some driving lessons with a local school. My first lesson was this morning which I anticipated with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I learnt to drive in a manual car 18 years ago, and I decided to stick to a manual transmission.
My instructor, Ally, was curious as to why I never drove after passing my test. I left home for college. I could barely afford lunch let alone a car. I relied on public transportation and never saw the need to drive, I guess. I did remind him though that I learnt to drive in a different language. I think he had more faith in me than I did in myself.
I sat in the driver’s seat, put my seat belt on, adjusted my seat, my mirrors, started the car and off I went. My route for the first lesson was a straight route with a few roundabouts thrown in. I cut out twice at roundabouts. I broke a 30mph speed limit. The car rolled back as I didn’t understand what ‘balancing the clutch and gas while in first gear until you feel the bite’ meant.
I bought a book recently – Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections. I didn’t enjoy it. There was too much disfunctionality. The characters were messed up. The book was 653 pages long. I stuck at it, and resolved to read it from cover to cover. I followed through and finished it two days ago and still disliked the book.
Overall, I didn’t dislike driving today. What I didn’t like was how I couldn’t co-ordinate my limbs, head and eyes. In my head, I know what I need to do. How do I translate that to my hands and feet? What I know is that I will follow through. I’m driving again on Wednesday after work, and next Saturday.