Do I look at things in a certain way because I am now getting old I wonder?  I don’t feel as though I am, old that is, and even though I have only just turned the age of 50 I still feel full of fun.  As in the words of the great Bryan Adams, I'll be 18 ‘til I die, but yesterday had me ranting like a real grumpy I can tell you, and what was at the root of my dispair?

We had enjoyed an active day, as being my son’s birthday, and he having had a new mountain bike, of course this demanded that we have an outing so he could test it out.  The effect of this was to make one somewhat ravenous, and what better on a Saturday evening, albeit still only 6pm, but to go out and get a Chinese takeaway.  That is what started it all, not the eating of a delicious Chinese meal, but the procedure that was involved in getting it.

Having ordered the food by phone, all that was now required for me to do was to drive into town, drop the wife off outside the place, turn the car around, pick her up and drive home.  We are talking of a journey that took a little over 10-minutes to fully complete and which consisted of a total distance amounting to 3.7-miles, but just how much can happen on the road in that amount of time? I am about to give you some idea.

Upon getting into the car outside my home, and before able to move off, a car pulled up outside the house that is 4-doors up the road.  When I say it pulled up, what actually happened was the driver swung the car up on to the pavement, and leaving it so at a rather jaunty angle, he alighted his chariot and walked up the empty drive to his front door.  To set the scene a little more clearly, I live on a housing estate and on a road that forms a crescent with small closes leading from it.  Traffic is minimal, and because the road doesn’t actually lead anywhere, except to go back to where it came from, the only drivers that use it are those who live there or those who are visiting.  Despite being the type of road it is, it really is quite wide and you could probably park 4 cars abreast between the kerbs if you had wanted to.  So my point here is why?  Why oh why is it necessary for this man to throw his car up onto the pavement, and apart from any legislative wrong-doing that may have been involved, what right has he to make life difficult for those who are on foot?  When I drove passed I could see that had anyone wanted to walk by this car they would have had to squeeze passed a hedge, and I really mean squeeze passed it, and had that person been pushing a baby-buggy, they most certainly would have to walk into the road.

Not more than 20-seconds later I had reached the end of the crescent and turning left onto Turnfurlong Lane, which is a longish estate road and dead straight, I was greeted by the sight of two cars coming toward me, but at this time, some way off.  On my offside, between my position and that of the approaching vehicles, were two parked cars, and these were actually parked with all four wheels on the carriageway, and a quick assessment told me that I would reach them at about the same point in time as the oncoming traffic.  Whether the lead driver of the two thought I was going to allow him through, or he had no idea that we would meet at the constriction in the road at the same time, or he had just plain hadn’t seen me, but in any case he suddenly found himself having to stand his car on it’s nose to pull up behind the obstruction he faced.  What was also notable was the fact the car following the first had to do the same to avoid hitting the back of him.  Having passed by the two, and upon looking back in my mirrors, I saw that both had to reverse to be able to obtain enough space to steer around the parked vehicles, because each had go in so close!

Now we were at the junction with Wendover Way, one that is controlled by a mini roundabout, and slowing right down to have a good old look, I am glad that I had taken the time to do so, as a small Peugeot came flying along from that direction with a driver at the wheel who is clearly on a mission.  Travelling at 30mph - and the rest! I wouldn’t have been surprised to have found out that before braking for the roundabout, that driver had been doing double the speed limit.

Now turning left, and carefully negotiating the mini roundabout that follows immediately after the first, going through the junction at the straight ahead, it was now necessary to traverse a series of traffic calming road humps passed The Grange School.  Not only do I now have a Vectra following me, the driver of which obviously fancying moving in as a lodger to occupy my boot space, but I observe a 5-series BMW coming the other way at a speed that anyone could tell was in excess of the 30mph limit, bashing his suspension cruelly whilst ignoring the presence of the humps.  500-metres later and we are at the main A413 Wendover Road, and we are to make a right onto this road by use of the mini roundabout.  Stopping gently, so as to cater for the would be boot-lodger, and to give way to traffic streaming from the right, a BMW Mini moves through my field of view, right to left, with a female driver steering with her left hand and drinking from a large MacDonalds cup through a straw held in her right.  I note also that she is not wearing her seat belt.  Having made the right turn safely, and still with Vectra man obviously feeling some urge of intimacy toward the rear of my car, I build up to the 30mph limit and settle.

When we reach the speed camera a short distance later a glance in the mirror reveals that Vectra man had backed right off and is now doing about 22mph before zooming up behind me again once clear of the ruler lines painted on the road. This told me that our friend to my rear had not a clue of what the speed limit for the road was, and he also hadn’t got a clue as to what speed he was travelling at when he came to the camera.  His lack of thought being applied to driving the car was further evidenced once we were through the traffic lights and heading off down Walton Street, a two-lane dual carriageway leading into the centre of town.  However, before we got to those lights we had to travel passed the Borough Service station on the off side of the road, a premises that can be clearly seen from the site of the speed camera. I give this information just to illustrate the scale of the environment about which I write.  There is traffic coming towards me, and a maroon coloured Fiesta is indicating left to demonstrate the intention to turn into the garage.  Quite appropriately, the car slows to a snails pace to make its turn, but before doing so, another car, the one that had been following, made what can only be described as a lunge toward the road centre to overtake.  The driver of this car turned his head toward the driver of that now pulling in for fuel, seemingly glaring in abject distaste for his fellow motorists, but in doing do he clearly revealed the mobile phone he had glued to his right ear.  It is amazing how those who drive so poorly will pour so much scorn upon others who they perceive to cause them so much difficulty.  People who live in glass houses……?

Anyway, I was saying, I am now through the lights and now heading towards the town centre down the dual carriageway called Walton Street.  Here, due to some new building works, lane-1 was coned off, leaving just lane-2 for traffic.  I was following a Land Rover Discovery, which in turn was behind another vehicle, with us all flowing at 30mph.  Here, Vectra man, still to my rear, is really pushing me now, and seeing the colour of his eyes as I now could in my mirror as he glares through his windscreen at me, I can tell he is getting agitated, but where in the hell does he think he is going to be able to get to?  If I had managed to sprout helicopter rotors from my roof, and take off, he would only have been in the same situation behind the Land Rover!

The lane restriction broke 200 metres prior to the next roundabout, and when I pulled over to lane one, and rather predictably, Vectra man made a bolt for freedom, almost lifting his rear tyres off the road as he applied heavy braking for the junction.  On the other hand I had eased from the throttle early on during my approach, and now flowed through the junction taking the exit to my left onto the ring road, without touching the middle pedal, sailing passed Vectra man on his inside during the process.  This really seemed to irritate, as once he was clear of the roundabout himself, and taking the same exit as I, he came hoofing passed me and was long gone by the time the next bit of road came into view.

2-minutes later I am in Buckingham Street and I pull up on the taxi rank to let the wife out, before immediately moving off again.  At just after six on a warm sunny Spring evening at the end of April and understandably the street is buzzing.  We are just off the centre of town here and the shops have recently closed for the night, causing late shoppers to mingle with early starters who were now making their way to the pubs to begin their evening of socialising and making merry.  As well as people crossing the street, getting in and out of cars, there are many abandoned parked cars, the driver’s from which obviously intent on showing their defiance toward the parking restrictions, perhaps feeling safe in the knowledge that the wardens have clocked off for the night, as ignoring any yellow line markings they haven’t necessarily been that thoughtful about where they had left their cars.  Taxi’s were jostling for position and the general atmosphere is one of an awakening twilight world in which soon there will be bright lights, music and an alcohol charged atmosphere.

All I had to do was drive less than 100 metres to the mini roundabout at the junction with Kingsbury Square, do a 180 degree manoeuvre, before travelling the same 100 metres back again to pick the wife up.  Having negotiated said mini roundabout as described I was now pinned in position behind a row of about 5 parked cars on my nearside, a situation aggravated by cars double parked alongside the taxi’s on the taxi rank opposite these vehicles, and with a flow of vehicles coming toward me from between them all.  Better stay put I thought, at least until this lot has sorted themselves out, as to try and get in there with them was always going to be grief.

A vehicle passing me the other way also completed the same manoeuvre as I had, but the guy in the blue Fiesta, who was following, seemed to take exception to that driver doing his U-turn and slotting in behind me, for not having used his indicators to signal that intention.  This seemed to make the Fiesta driver feel justified in shouting at the top of his voice from his open window, “Why don’t you use your f**kin’ indicators you tw**t!” and this being after he had announced his forthcoming outburst of annoyance with an elongated blast of the horn.

When I found a break in the convoy of the world and his wife wanting to get through Buckingham Street late on a Saturday afternoon, I moved forward and slotted in ahead of the parked cars nicely and across the entrance to some smart bijous flats built on land that used to be the local bus garage, but which now have electronically powered wrought iron gates activated by a card swipe entry system.  Nice outlook I always thought.  I wish I lived in a location where I had a close view of Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pizza Express, Bamboo Chinese take away and St James’ nightclub.  Anyway, the wife gets in and I get a waft of what was to come later. It was now time to pull away, but hang on, let us just sit tight for a moment, as things are not quite right for that just yet.

To my rear, and beyond the row of parked cars through which I had just navigated to get to my current vantage point, I can hear the engine of a big motor bike, and which is being revved in short bursts giving all the indications that the rider, even before I have seen him, is going to act like a dick head.  Of course my expectations were no smaller than the reality, as once allowed to break free from his held position he gives it large ones, accelerating up through the gears at quite a ferocious rate down through was can only be described environment wise as a valley of death.  If ever there was a display of inappropriate rider behaviour this was it, because this certainly was not the place to be doing what he did.  I found myself wanting him to hurt himself very badly!

Even after his departure from the area I was still not prepared to move, as coming up the street towards us is a car, accelerating up and beyond the rate of 30mph, and me with a parked car ahead of me, I would have to risk substantial damage by sticking my nose out. Glancing in my door mirror I can see vehicles coming through the bottleneck to my rear, so where did chummy, still boring in from ahead, think he was going to be able go to, because from where I am looking, and he obviously wasn’t, all the indications were that he was going nowhere?  I watched in pity whilst a good couple of hundred miles worth of disc pads is burned away as he hauled in his horses to submit to the opposing flow that greeted him; now at short range.  Behind him we then had a seven and a half tonne refrigerated box truck, again advancing at an inappropriate rate of speed with driver resting his right elbow on the top of his open window and with said hand clasping a mobile phone to his ear.  All I could do was gaze on with despair as he too had to take evasive action so as to account for the knot of traffic ahead of him and which had been so clearly visible from much further back, and when all this madness had settled, and whilst everyone else was now trying to sort their life out, I moved off to make my escape.

Having managed to escape the mayhem of Buckingham Street unscathed, and this had only been achieved through effective environment management methods, whilst driving down White Hill I had a brief time to reflect, and about captain Hornblower in his Fiesta at the mini roundabout back there. I got to thinking that as he had been following another car, and that car performed a 180-degree turn at the mini roundabout, why should that have been a problem to Hornblower, even if that driver had not given a signal.  I mean it wasn’t as though they were side by side and the focus of the aggression had cut across Hornblower’s path, because he didn’t.  He just simply moved out of his path.  Yes a signal should have been given prior to making that manoeuvre, but even as it wasn’t, a vehicle leaving your path ahead should not be a problem to you.  I suppose that Hornblower can put his hand on his heart and solemnly say that he has never made a mistake on the road can he?  I very much doubt it, and I really don’t see that his loud and yob-like actions were necessary.  In fact, by drawing that amount of attention to himself, as he did, looking at the case from a third party perception point of view, who was the one that ended up looking the bad guy?  Had Hornblower been following at the distance the environment and scenario required he would not have been affected by the actions of the other vehicle, so really his aggression and annoyance was born out of his own incompetence as a driver.

On the route home, and now going back up Walton Street, I can see up ahead that there is the usual three-abreast queue at the traffic lights and the signals are showing red.  A black Golf darts out from behind me, screams passed and then barges in ahead in a do or die mission to gain 12-feet of road surface, obviously fearing that some terrible event would become of him had he not done so.  The stupid thing is that I don’t even want his lane at the lights, and as my queue is shorter, he is again further to my rear.

Rather thankfully there was no other incident to report upon over the last third of a mile to get to my door, apart from the cars that my neighbour will insist on leaving in the road when he has an empty driveway he could put them on.  This house is right on a sharp bend and even though there is very little traffic, as described earlier, that uses this route it is potentially dangerous all the same.

So, what do we make of this adventure then, because really that is what it was?  Driving standards in this country on the whole are appalling and it appears to me that many who drive tend to treat the windscreen of their car with the same attitude as a wide screen television and apply as much thought to the moving picture they view as they would the one on the box at home.  This is why they sit there swigging from a can of drink, eating a sandwich or hamburger, turning their heads to talk to the other occupants of the vehicle and gabbing away on the mobile phone as they drive.  What I shake my head over is the irony of it all, as when you read the pages of the many motoring forums that occupy so much space on the Internet you see they are filled with conversation threads authored by drivers moaning and complaining over and over about the ever-tightening rules and restrictions being placed upon them due to the increasing number of traffic laws that are being brought to statute.  Taking my 10-minute journey as an example of the road behaviour exhibited by the great British motoring public as a sample of the driver of today, is there any wonder the authorities are trying to tighten up?  However, it seems that despite the prolific growth in the flourishing forest of metal poles that adorn the roadside, complete with their foliage of brightly coloured aluminium plates conveying all manner of information of perceived importance, injury and death on the road continues to spiral upwards.  This tells me that actually the present system, if there actually is one, really isn’t working, because from my point of view the road environment, despite all the rules and tighter enforcement, is actually becoming a more threatening place in which to travel.

My belief, and some may think I am saying this because I am the principal of what is categorised as a driver training company, is that a system of better driver education and training needs to be put into place.  You wouldn’t need a lot to make a better difference either.  Take one simple element, for example, observation.  Do you realise that people who drive too fast in fog actually do so because they drive in fog every day of the year they take to the road?  What I mean here is that as their range of observation is so short, the fog they encounter during a winter journey doesn’t actually impede their vision, as that is only how far they look ahead on a bright summers day!  I will argue that if you could increase the quality of observation among drivers and riders you could reduce the accident rate by at least 33%.  Add in all the other techniques of effective driving methods and you will see an even bigger difference.

Road collisions cost this country billions of pounds, and the bill for road signs and white paint ain’t cheap either.  I wonder, by comparison, what it would cost to implement a decent system of driver education and training?  It seems that the motoring public and the tax payer aren't currently getting best value.

Julian Smith

Ride Drive Limited

2nd May 2007