Driving passion

I have loved driving all my life. I loved it even as a child, a passenger in the front next to Dad. (Mum and my little brother Wayne always sat in the back) I didn't pass my driving test first time, but after a couple of years' further practice I managed it on 31st August 1973. I always regarded that as one of my key lifetime achievements, and still do.

Later this week is the 45th anniversary of that seminal event. Seminal, because the ability to drive anywhere on my own led to so much. Nearly all happenings in my life since August 1973 have been assisted or made directly possible by being able to drive. And it's an accomplishment I'm still proud of, that still underpins all I do. I'd be lost without a car. For me, driving has always been a major leisure activity. And a useful one. It facilitates my photography, my holidays, most things I do socially, and all the day-to-day things like shopping. One day, when I'm very old, I won't be able to drive (or won't be allowed to), but in this far future I will still enjoy getting out and about in an advanced driverless car of the time. And not slump on a bus with all the other old biddies.

I really can't imagine the mindset of those who have never learned to drive. I'm not mocking them, of course not - my Mum never learned - but I think they miss so much, and more seriously have to live in a world where public transport, and taxis, and lifts cadged from friends are the only travel options. Options involving a lot of waiting around and probable exposure to the elements. And slow, tiring journeys.

Perhaps it doesn't matter to them. It would be unbearably irksome for me, having to rely entirely on such choices if I wanted to go anywhere. I couldn't just go out, on a whim, and travel as far as I pleased, anywhere I fancied. I'd be stuck with inflexible bus routes, and wherever the train went; and a vast number of interesting places would be out of reach. It might even be a problem getting to the shops, or to the doctor.

Now, some statistics. In those 45 years I have:

# Owned seven cars.

# Driven 586,000 miles.

I know these things, because for a very long time I've kept a spreadsheet to record such facts.

My goodness, 586,000 miles! And yet it averages out at only 13,000 miles a year. The annual average is in fact greater for the sixteen years from 2002, as a result of caravanning. In recent years, since owning Fiona, I've driven more than ever. Currently I cover 15,000 miles annually.

I'm not a petrolhead. I used to regularly watch TV programmes like Top Gear, but I now question why. I do however continue to admire upmarket, highly-capable cars intended for enjoyable driving, and would never want a small, sensible, economical town car. I keep my eye on motoring news.

My next car? Well, it must surely be an advanced hybrid, or a next-generation purely-electric car, provided it has the grunt to pull a caravan a decent distance at a good pace. Otherwise another diesel chariot - a very clean one of course. How funded? I want to own it outright, so that I can use it freely and without contractual inhibitions. That's why I make savings one of my financial priorities.