UK Driving License

Realisation descends. What am I doing? Why don’t I just get up off my arse and do this? These were the thoughts that belatedly gripped me as I discussed the possibility of escaping London’s rat race with Miss Rebecca back in January this year.

Ever since I first went to the US as a fresh faced graduate in 1999, I have held a desire that I don’t fully understand. With thoughts of freedom and immense beautiful landscapes I have wanted to hit the open road in search of something and nothing simultaneously. Partially and predictably inspired by Kerouac’s wonder-lust, and partially motivated by a desire to see the real underbelly of that most celebrated of modern democracies, my ambition has recently become insuppressible. Why? Well to be honest the answer to that question is a long, tedious and clichéd story that has seen me question the direction and meaning of everything. My life has changed beyond recognition over the last 4 years and I now don’t recognise who I am and where I am going. Something needs to change.

Upon finally acknowledging the need for change back in January, 1 major obstacle stood in my way; that was a driving license. I had a few lessons as a 17 year old, but with an immediate post school migration to university and a subsequent move to the pedestrian paradise that is London, I simply never quite got round to properly learning. In retrospect this delay was as much a consequence of an irrational fear as it was due to a lack of inclination. I guess that I found it difficult to deal with the responsibility that comes with driving; both with regard to the vehicle itself and more importantly, for my passengers and fellow users of her majesties highways. Ill be honest, this responsibility bothered me. Silly I know, but this anxiety festered for a good decade until I decided enough was enough. It’s amazing what a good kick up the arse and some words of kind encouragement from those that you love can do for your confidence.

So with words of support resonating within my mind, I took a deep breath and jumped whole heartedly into tuition in March of this year. Now, after some professional lessons and some immense patience on the part of my father who repeatedly took me out in his once beloved and now forgotten ford focus, I am the proud owner of a UK driving license. I can quite honestly say I feel more proud of this then I did after either of my degrees. I finally feel like a fully paid-up member of the adult community.
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