I almost killed myself and my mother by accident the other night.
In the dark, I turned the wrong way into a one-way street and nearly had a collision with a bus as I reversed into an intersection at panic speed.
Perhaps I am a bad driver because I didn’t drive for almost a decade. (I lived in London where the transport is so good that you don’t need a car).
I might be a bad driver because I got my driver’s licence in Canberra – which is really a big country town with a lot of roundabouts.
I can do roundabouts, but I may need to upgrade to a city license or grow the thick skin you need for the kind of reactions I get on the road.
The real problem is that I rely on a GPS map on my phone.
Sorry Mum, the British GPS woman who told me to turn right into Elizabeth Street is at fault.
It’s her fault
She was in my car that night, she was looking at the map and she told me to turn right.
She didn’t mean that right – she meant the next one, but when she says turn right, I turn right.
That’s how you get places in Sydney. You listen to her.
It’s not the first time she’s got me into trouble. She’s told me to take right turns before when I see signs that say ‘No Right Turn’ and she bangs on: “Turn right, turn right”.