..and my God, what I fool I was to let him!
And what was our steel rocket responsible for my half hour of terror? Why, a KEWL '99 Nissan Almera of course! A 5-door hatcback, glossed in aged blue and silver, a custom silver gearstick resembling one of T-1000's eyeballs from Terminator 2... oh, and seats that were spruced up to look the part in blue "Sports" cloth. Rather cushy actually.
"So, what kind of experience do you have - how many hours?"
"Oh, I'm pretty good. I've had quite a few lessons. My instructors have said I'm making good progress."
Hmm. Okay. He's avoiding my question but I trust him (known him for 15 years). I guesstimate 10 hours.
He lives just within the M25 near Heathrow. Not of police patrol the roads there and it's mainly quiet town rounds with a few good mini-roundabouts and the M4.
Provisional license (for him)? Check.
MOT? Check.
Tax? Check.
Insurance? Check.
Me being over 21? Check.
Me having held my license for 3 years? Mark.
"L" plates? Mark.
Yes, I know. A bit risky. But after a lot of hesitation, I convinced myself that a 10 minute drive around the roads he's driven before will be fine. Heck, I've already made the 20min drive to his house so my mind was already made!
Seatbelts. Ignition. Biting point.
We're off!
...
Okay, so we're off to a rolling start... literally! Leaving the junction from his house he rolls straight into a right turn, no signs of braking or signal! Okay sure, the roads were clear. I put this down to over confidence and keep my mouth shut.
First mini roundabout. Again, rolls straight into it! Fair enough, we were only doing 20mph and the roads were clear but I'm mentally keeping a record of these little errors.
We enter a busy town road. Okay, he's using his brakes now and more importantly his eyes!
"I'm hungry. Let's go to a drive-thru!"
So we do. McDonald's (ugh!)
But even that was a bit dodgy! He cuts through the exit lane to get to the entrance. Then when we leave the drive-thru, he randomly just stops to fix his wallet keeping cars behind waiting and honking! I tell him to leave that 'til later - it's not important. His driving is. But we sit there for a minute whilst he sorts out his money.
Straight clear roads - he's doing 20mph in a 40mph limit.
"Come on, put your foot a bit down.. there's a queue of cars behind!"
Windy back town roads, quite a few cars in the opposite direction.. 30mph!
Parked car blocking our path. Car in the opposite direction is reaching the obstruction before us. Cousin speeds up and squeezes in first!
My heart is changing pace as quickly as Eddie Izzard changes sex!
Mini-roundabout. A car is coming in the opposite direction...
"Okay, watch out for that car ahead. Slow down. She might want to turn right."
No reply. IS MY COUSIN EVEN ALIVE IN HIS HEAD?!
Okay, calm down. Relax. I trust him.
The other car signals to turn right, she eyeballs us. Good, at least I know someone's awake! She reaches the roundabout before us.
My cousin rolls into the roundabout straight after, causing the woman to break sharply!
"WHOOA! WHOOA!" (I'm flailing my arms around at this point) "What the French Connection UK are you doing!? I said SLOW DOWN and STOP! That woman had priority!"
As if my cousin had been lounging in Southern France sipping cocktails, he finally wakes up,
"Oh really? I didn't know that. Oh well!"
"What the hell has your instructor been teaching you?!"
"Oh, she's taught me that but I thought I didn't need to do that when I'm with you."

We park up back at his house. My heart is still racing. Never has 10 minutes felt so long!
So I beg the question: Had he actually crashed, what would happen? Would anything happen to my license or insurance? Or would he suffer all the consequences?
And what was our steel rocket responsible for my half hour of terror? Why, a KEWL '99 Nissan Almera of course! A 5-door hatcback, glossed in aged blue and silver, a custom silver gearstick resembling one of T-1000's eyeballs from Terminator 2... oh, and seats that were spruced up to look the part in blue "Sports" cloth. Rather cushy actually.
"So, what kind of experience do you have - how many hours?"
"Oh, I'm pretty good. I've had quite a few lessons. My instructors have said I'm making good progress."
Hmm. Okay. He's avoiding my question but I trust him (known him for 15 years). I guesstimate 10 hours.
He lives just within the M25 near Heathrow. Not of police patrol the roads there and it's mainly quiet town rounds with a few good mini-roundabouts and the M4.
Provisional license (for him)? Check.
MOT? Check.
Tax? Check.
Insurance? Check.
Me being over 21? Check.
Me having held my license for 3 years? Mark.
"L" plates? Mark.
Yes, I know. A bit risky. But after a lot of hesitation, I convinced myself that a 10 minute drive around the roads he's driven before will be fine. Heck, I've already made the 20min drive to his house so my mind was already made!
Seatbelts. Ignition. Biting point.
We're off!
...
Okay, so we're off to a rolling start... literally! Leaving the junction from his house he rolls straight into a right turn, no signs of braking or signal! Okay sure, the roads were clear. I put this down to over confidence and keep my mouth shut.
First mini roundabout. Again, rolls straight into it! Fair enough, we were only doing 20mph and the roads were clear but I'm mentally keeping a record of these little errors.
We enter a busy town road. Okay, he's using his brakes now and more importantly his eyes!
"I'm hungry. Let's go to a drive-thru!"
So we do. McDonald's (ugh!)
But even that was a bit dodgy! He cuts through the exit lane to get to the entrance. Then when we leave the drive-thru, he randomly just stops to fix his wallet keeping cars behind waiting and honking! I tell him to leave that 'til later - it's not important. His driving is. But we sit there for a minute whilst he sorts out his money.

Straight clear roads - he's doing 20mph in a 40mph limit.
"Come on, put your foot a bit down.. there's a queue of cars behind!"
Windy back town roads, quite a few cars in the opposite direction.. 30mph!
Parked car blocking our path. Car in the opposite direction is reaching the obstruction before us. Cousin speeds up and squeezes in first!
My heart is changing pace as quickly as Eddie Izzard changes sex!
Mini-roundabout. A car is coming in the opposite direction...
"Okay, watch out for that car ahead. Slow down. She might want to turn right."
No reply. IS MY COUSIN EVEN ALIVE IN HIS HEAD?!
Okay, calm down. Relax. I trust him.
The other car signals to turn right, she eyeballs us. Good, at least I know someone's awake! She reaches the roundabout before us.
My cousin rolls into the roundabout straight after, causing the woman to break sharply!
"WHOOA! WHOOA!" (I'm flailing my arms around at this point) "What the French Connection UK are you doing!? I said SLOW DOWN and STOP! That woman had priority!"
As if my cousin had been lounging in Southern France sipping cocktails, he finally wakes up,
"Oh really? I didn't know that. Oh well!"
"What the hell has your instructor been teaching you?!"
"Oh, she's taught me that but I thought I didn't need to do that when I'm with you."

We park up back at his house. My heart is still racing. Never has 10 minutes felt so long!
So I beg the question: Had he actually crashed, what would happen? Would anything happen to my license or insurance? Or would he suffer all the consequences?