Unsurprisingly,I learned to drive at 17.And failed my first test.I was devastated.I felt like a lover spurned,rejected by my one true love.Cars.Instead of being alone with my love, still I had to be chaperoned by Dad wherever I went.Also not surprisingly I was working as an apprentice mechanic in the local garage,the owner of which not unreasonably wanted me to get qualified asap.After waiting the obligatory three months I applied for the test again.This time I wore my overalls.And I passed.To this day,I'm not sure whether I passed my car test because of them.I only know that during the test (back in those days we were required to give hand signals) I distinctly remember having my right arm out the window.While my left hand was changing gear.Definitely a no-no.Still,I had the precious 'Pass' slip in my hand and the examiner's words ringing in my ears. "You're a lousy driver,son." I agreed wholeheartedly.I had passed so I didn't care what he said.So,'L' plates off and a euphoric drive home.
Shortly after,Dad did the right thing and bought me my own car,more to save the family car than anything else,I suspect
but I was suitably grateful even so.This car was a Ford Popular,in flaky black.With a side-valve engine and three speed gearbox it was about as near tractor as you'd want to get but it was mine,all mine.I came to love the long,long gear lever that grew out of the car's floor and ended somewhere near my left ear but hey,you needed the leverage to shift them cogs.Steering was so-so and everything hung together pretty well.What I didn't appreciate was the modus-operandi of the car's wipers.These are vacuum driven off the inlet manifold unlike the wipers on the Volkswagen Beetle,which got their motivation from the air pressure in that car's spare wheel.At least the Beetle's wipers' performance should have been consistent,'til the air ran out anyway.Consistency was not the Ford's strong suit unfortunately.Its wipers worked like the clappers when you only needed a gentle sweep and dragged themselves lethargically over the glass in a torrential downpour.Useful.I think not.Still,the car was a little belter,reliable and easily fixed.Ah,the good old days.Give me a good screwdriver and a big hammer and there wasn't much I couldn't sort on that Ford .Unlike nowadays,heck if you want to work on your car you have to be a rocket scientist or have a degree in some -ology or other.Currently,I'm driving a Citroen Xsara of 2002 vintage and oh brother,what a sad excuse for a car this particular one is.I've bought better cars for £700.For example I've never had a car that decides it wants to share my music with the world while I'm driving.One minute the radio or cd(when it feels like working) is playing softly in the background,the next the volume is cranked right up full and at 30 watts that gets scary.Or how about when I get out and close the door,the car locks them all behind me.I mean,have I got a problem even my best friend won't tell me about?