The End

This blog is now closed. The story continues over on Flip Flops and Flying Carpets.

Thank you for reading.

23 Hours

In 2000, I got my driving licence. I was a couple of years behind my peers, but I'd been in no rush to drive. But at 18, and with a piece of paper to prove I could do it, my next step was to get my hands on a car. Thanks to my then-boss who helped to get me a sweet deal on a new car, I bought myself a Fiat Punto in light blue - a standard model as I could afford no extras and was already working 3 jobs (fit in around uni) to pay for it all.

The big day came and the car arrived. I went to pick it up with my mum and dad and was too scared to drive it home, so I made my dad drive. The next day, I decided I had to try, so I got behind the wheel.

23 hours after my dad drove the car out of the showroom, the car looked anything but new. It smelt new, it sure as hell was new, but it was dented all along the left-hand side, the mirror broken in 3 places hanging on a thread like a dismembered arm. I had misread the situation, misjudged the space and dragged the side of the car all the way along a (parked) Land Rover, in too much shock at what was happening to even think of stopping before I'd damaged all three side panels of the car.

I had no spare money to fix the car, so it remained... dented, a permanent reminder of that embarrassing day. I eventually started driving again (it took a while to get back into the car and trust myself not to completely wreck the car on a second attempt), and although the story is always a very amusing self-depreciating tale to tell, I've spent ten years driving terrified that it'll happen again, always leaving miles of unnecessary space on the left-hand side of the car.

But lately I've noticed a change. I'm not terrified any longer. I'm barely even scared. I'm cautious, sure, but that's probably a good thing. I can drive through a tight spot and keep breathing. Not missing a heartbeat, or two. It's taken ten years to get to this point (boy does that make me feel old!!!). I can't say I haven't enjoyed driving in the meantime, but it certainly offers the possibility of enjoying it a whole lot more!

I can't promise to drive closer to whatever there is on my left though - I might just have to live with that one!

[The photo was taken - by Cora (right) - in July 2005, after one of our trips to Bugibba for delicious pancakes!]


  1. your poor little car... but great story!

  2. It always amazes me to read how self-aware you are :)

  3. teehee what a surprise to see this!! I remember that day sooo clearly

    I had a similar 'accident' the other day though in my case I found a 'hamalla' prima klassi.

  4. I hate to tell you this, but I think you crashed because your steering wheel is on the wrong side of the car!

    Ok, no really, I think we've all had those moments. I once went over a set of railway track (which were, incidently, nowhere NEAR the road), and managed to wreck tire, rim, and front bumper in miliseconds. I'm still not a good driver, and force hubby to do all the city driving. Luckily we live in a rural area where I can almost get away with being an automotive klutz.

  5. I am glad that you are feeling better about driving! If it helps, I actually backed into a street lamp the day I got my license. In my defense, however, the light wasn't working, and it was quite dark out... :)

  6. Haha thanks Jewels & Ashley - I guess we all have our little embarrassing stories to tell! :)

    Cora, you can't imagine how long I spent looking for this photo, but I was determined to use it in this post and had to go through years of CDs of photos until I finally found it!!! It was a good afternoon :)