My Transport Opinion

Driving lessons in the UK are no longer as cheap as they used to be, and neither is the insurance as I, Bill Bethers discovered as I had booked my first set of lessons, no, it wasn't to become an hgv driver, but to drive a normal hatchback from my home to my local pub.

I booked the lessons after reading an ad: "Driving lessons UK, cheap cheap, very cheap." Fifty pounds a lesson, since when was that cheap. But I proceeded and booked knowing that the beer was becoming closer.

You may be thinking that there must be something wrong here. I was taking lessons to learn to drive to the pub. Was I going to drink drive? Was I going to kill myself? I told myself that one or two beers would never harm me. I told myself that I would never get caught. And I told myself that I would never kill myself. I couldn't have been more wrong.

BANG! That was it, the final thing I remember - the sound of an hgv driver smashing his way through the side of my car, and me. Not pleasant, and I'll be honest it didn't feel all too good.

I just remember looking up and staring at the this over weight, sweaty and unshaven hgv driver as he came hurtling towards me. Was I brave driving out in front of him? No. Not at all. I was stupid.

It all happened on a saturday afternoon, I finished my shift at work stacking shelves, and I remember it being sunny, very sunny actually for a British summer, and I thought the best way to enjoy this sun is to enjoy an ice cold beer. So I did it, I drove to my local, sat on a bench and had a beer. I felt the same. I could still tell my left from my right. And I knew who was Prime Minister.

So I slid into my car. Buckled up. Turned the key. And drove.

Down Greesham Avenue, around to Killpin Road and BANG. That was it. Wrong side of the road, easy mistake to make. I know what I was doing. Just forgot for a second or two. But that's what killed me. That's why I lay here in my coffin now.