A drive in the park they said


GO for it, it’ll be fun, they said. As my driving licence had expired I had little choice but to do so.’

What caused me anxiety was my knowing that I would be obliged to be medically examined to show my fitness to drive.

You see, they do care about other road users. We mortals fear little except the unknown.

So, after making the appointment I had the good sense to ask forum users what I might expect.

Armed with just one reassurance I kept the appointment with the driving licence assessors. There, I was immediately assailed by the saying, ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here.’

The receptionist was easily dealt with and at this point I should have gone home, job done.

Whoa! There’s another bit. When my name was called I ventured into what appeared to be an optician’s lab.

So far so good, I took a seat whereupon I correctly identified the Polish gentleman’s name on the card.

“No, don’t go just yet,” the medico said as I rose to leave. He then blasted my eyes with a headlight beam.

Immediately afterwards I was obliged to read the letters on the card again. This is to check the pupil’s dilation speed.

“Thank goodness that is over,” I told my companion. “It isn’t; there is more yet,” she said with a wry smile.

Minutes later I was invited into another studio by a lady so lovely she could charm the habit off an abbot.

Taking my seat I was invited to guess the position of the little ball on the screen seconds after it disappeared into the ‘tunnel.’

For me it was premature emasculation; I tried again and was better.

Then, facing the screen I took two beermat sized ‘steering wheels’ and with baited breath waited.

Off we went, my left hand was now ‘driving a blob’ along an ululating country road. Separately, my right hand was steering another blob along a parallel mountain road. I queried the impossibility of driving ‘two cars’ simultaneously.

She explained that this test ascertained my ability to do two things at the same time.

Yes, often, but never before have I driven two freakin’ cars simultaneously down parallel winding mountain roads.

At this point I may as well have chucked my driving licence into the abyss to follow my ‘car.’ Finally, I was called into yet another studio to respond to health questions, which was the easy bit.

Lord be praised, I passed. I can drive again but only after recovering my cars from those mountain ravines.

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