The rain briefly stopped, and I took the chance to get out on the bike. She coughed indignantly (once) before starting, protesting the lack of attention. Subsequently, she went back to her usual growl/purr.
It's good to know that riding came back to me more smoothly than did driving, but I guess, when you compare the lengths of hiatuses, that makes sense.
As I was getting back into the swing of it, I found myself behind a mini-4x4 with the bumper sticker: Caution! Sudden Braking. I've seen similar signs on buses, rubbish trucks and the like, which by virtue of their function have some excuse. On a private car? It might as well read: Caution! Bad Driving. I'd quite like to put the sign on various pedestrians, cyclists and taxis, though...
Because the hardest thing to get used to again is always the traffic. In South Africa, a red light is a suggestion, and indicators can mean anything you want them to (as can hazard lights). In the UK, most people obey the basic rules, but indicators are often seen as either optional or something you use once you've started to manoeuvre.
Also on some roads, particularly the ones with unexpectedly tight curves, the signposts seem to set out to confuse. Not only does every country I've ever ridden in have a different gauge for how sharp a bend needs to be before it needs special signage, but within the UK, every council has its own ideas on the subject too.
When you add into the muddy road conditions a curve, adverse camber and a bunch of cars without a clue, sudden braking becomes the norm, and all you can do is try to sit far enough back not to have to do it yourself.
Wednesday 22 June 2016
Wednesday 15 June 2016
Indicative
I haven't been in SA for some years, and I'm not as familiar with its ins and outs as once I was. The trusty map book always sat in the passenger seat, usually open. Allowing time to pull over and consult further was a factor always to be added on.
The most nerve-wracking moment was one fine evening, driving through Jo'burg.
Now, in the interests of no longer doing rolling power cuts, Eskom has decided not to bother supplying power to most streetlights. This makes post-sunset navigation a new level of adventure for those of us no longer familiar with the city.
I had been having a very social day - a drink with lunch, a little wine with friends in the evening - so I knew I would probably fail a breathalyser. As the cops like to do random checks, I was trying to be a very good driver, and not look anything less than completely sober and confident.
This is hard when you're slowing and peering through the gloom at every cross street, and occasionally pulling over to consult the map book.
As it was, I overshot the turn and wound up on the motorway looking for the first junction that presented the potential for a U-turn (luckily, junction 1B on that motorway)
As it was, I overshot the turn and wound up on the motorway looking for the first junction that presented the potential for a U-turn (luckily, junction 1B on that motorway)
All of this meant I wasn't really concentrating on the actual mechanics of driving a car - which meant I forgot, at crucial moments like indicating direction, that This Was A Car....
Indicating Right was fine. In a Japanese car, so the indicator stick is on the right. Indicating Left, however, I repeatedly tried to do with the wipers, because I am used to having each direction's indicator switch conveniently placed for the corresponding thumb...
Hopefully, all the confusion is one way, and getting back on the bike will be as smooth as - well - new asphalt.
This Is A Car
A few weeks ago, I tucked my baby up in her cover, all plugged into her charger, and headed off on holiday. In South Africa, access was only to cars. I offered to take over driving my brother's car when my Mom was having trouble with the gears, and once safely ensconced behind the wheel, and desperately hoping I could remember how this driving lark went, I mentioned that I hadn't driven a car for about 6 months...
But, like cycling, the knowledge creeps back via muscle memory, and the only real Notes to Self were:
1) This is South Africa. You must carry your licence at all times. (Oddly, in the UK I do)
2) This is a car. You cannot filter in a car. It's too big. (Contrary to the evident belief of several drivers both there and in the UK)
3) Also, this is a car. This means you are not in the centre of it, but off to one side. Allow for this with lane placement. No, seriously.
4) This is a car. You cannot lean it around corners, so stop trying. You have to steer with the wheel.
5) This is a car. Indicator switches change sides of the steering wheel depending on region of manufacture.
6) Also, this is a car. You have a rearview as well as wing mirrors.
7) This is a car. You have to use said mirrors to reverse, because looking over your shoulder just shows you car, and also go very gently because you're used to reversing by muscle power alone, and on something vastly smaller to boot.
But, like cycling, the knowledge creeps back via muscle memory, and the only real Notes to Self were:
1) This is South Africa. You must carry your licence at all times. (Oddly, in the UK I do)
2) This is a car. You cannot filter in a car. It's too big. (Contrary to the evident belief of several drivers both there and in the UK)
3) Also, this is a car. This means you are not in the centre of it, but off to one side. Allow for this with lane placement. No, seriously.
4) This is a car. You cannot lean it around corners, so stop trying. You have to steer with the wheel.
5) This is a car. Indicator switches change sides of the steering wheel depending on region of manufacture.
6) Also, this is a car. You have a rearview as well as wing mirrors.
7) This is a car. You have to use said mirrors to reverse, because looking over your shoulder just shows you car, and also go very gently because you're used to reversing by muscle power alone, and on something vastly smaller to boot.
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