Home Sweet Anywhere by Lynne Martin

Author:Lynne Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2014-02-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Britain

“No, no, no—I’m NOT doing it. I don’t care what she says, it isn’t happening!” Tim shouted as he banged his hands on the steering wheel.

He stared at the hand-lettered sign in front of us and then glared in defiance at Victoria, the GPS, reached down, and turned off the ignition. “Not Advisable for Motorized Vehicles” the sign read. We could see through the rain-splattered windshield that after about six feet of pavement, the road turned into a black, muddy bog full of waterlogged potholes.

“Okay, okay, take it easy,” I said, patting his left hand that rested on the gearshift knob. Yes, his LEFT hand. This was Tim’s first day of driving on the left side of the road, shifting gears with his left hand, and learning to glance up at the rearview mirror, which was on exactly the WRONG side for everyone on earth except the British and the countries they conquered over the centuries.

That morning, we had picked up the car at Heathrow Airport in London. Our goal was to reach Bucklawren Farm, a B&B on the Cornish coast, before dark. And preferably in one piece. It was beginning to look as if we had made one of our famous miscalculations, because Tim was thrust into this new form of driving with no time for a practice run. I had driven in Ireland when I lived there for a couple of years in the nineties, and I didn’t remember it being terribly difficult. Of course, I was younger (and therefore less daunted), had already been a passenger many times in the cars of experienced Irish drivers, and had been aided by plenty of parking lot practice before I made my first solo excursion. So I had much more help before I actually took off.

Our drive started well on the M3, a major six-lane artery that runs east to west. After a few hours on that highway, Tim felt like he mastered the car’s basics. British traffic was well regulated, the drivers competent and courteous, and Victoria, the GPS, was having a great day of accuracy, probably because she was on her own British turf. Seriously, she sounded much more relaxed than she had in Italy and France.

“You know, honey, I don’t think this is going to be too big a problem for me,” Tim had said. “The mirror is disconcerting [he never did get used to looking left when he glanced at the mirror], but overall, it’s not so hard. I think I’m getting used to it.”

Moments later, when we got off the highway and approached the first traffic circle, things changed dramatically. In Italy and France, we entered and exited the roundabouts from the right. Here, they were exactly opposite, with traffic moving in and out on the left. The trouble was that right-hand drivers automatically look to the left for traffic. In this case, everything is happening on the right, so with every maneuver the driver is required to ask his brain to switch its focus.

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