Last Friday, I passed my theory test, missing only one question on the multiple-choice. (Although they don't tell you which you got wrong, I'm pretty sure it was the question about when you can reverse around the corner from a minor road onto a major road. I answered "Never" but -- this being England -- I'm sure that was wrong. You can do anything here.)
I got 71% on the hazard perception, primarily because I didn't understand what I was supposed to do for the first four or five videos. I was clicking the mouse when the car was supposed to *react* to certain events, but I was supposed to click when I saw the event that would *result* in the car reacting to them. In other words, I was clicking at the last possible moment, which was bad, and so for those clips I got a 1 out of a possible 5. (But 57% is passing, and a blind man clicking drunk could have scored that, so who cares.)
The next (and last) step is the road test, which you can't schedule until after you've passed the theory. Fortunately, the driving instructor last week let me know that different test centers have different wait times. What he didn't warn me was that there were over 40 test centers within 20 miles of me, and I'd have to look up each schedule, one by one. It took me an hour and a half to discover that most test centers didn't have any availability until mid-November, but one center had an appointment on Monday. I called the instructor -- because I needed his car for the test -- and he basically told me I would fail, and I should schedule it for November.
While I appreciated his brutal honesty, I am not a patient man, and waiting two months was not an option. Still, it was going to be hard to pass a driving test without a car. As I was stiting at the laundromat watching my clothes spin -- another exciting day in London -- I realized that with my US license, I could rent a car!
So I signed up for the Monday appointment (and paid the £67 fee, because 4:30pm is considered "evening" and incurs a £10 surcharge.), then called Avis and found manual cars are £30, but automatics are £84 (US $160)!! After considerable effort, I found Europcar had one for £39, but they were inside the congestion zone, so that added another £8, and of course I took out full insurance for another £12, plus £9 in petrol. Including the £50 for my provisional license, £30 to take the theory test, £10 for a test book, and £4 for the tube, this stupid driver's license has cost me £230 (US $435)!! In the US, I could have bought a car for that money.
On a side note, I have also resumed my search for a flat (apartment), as three months in a hotel is bordering on ridiculous. I still don't want to commit myself for a year, but I have found several "short-term" flats, and figured I could check them out with a car. What I didn't expect is that the letting agents -- who actually get paid if I rent the flat -- don't actually have any interest in showing the flat. So despite multiple attempts (via email and phone), only one agent out of six called me back and set up an appointment. (One agent even has a voice mail message that says they only schedule appointments online or in person, and don't bother leaving a message as they won't call you back. I'm not kidding!)
Still, I figured I could at least check out the areas, since (like any metro area) some parts are better than others. I also had to stop by Jessica's because Mill Hill (where I was taking my test) wasn't on my London map, and I was borrowing a bigger atlas from her. I wanted to avoid rush hour so I scheduled the rental for 10am. Their web site said it was next to the Victoria Coach Station, and my map showed Victoria Bus Station right next to the tube station, so I was all set. Except when I arrived at 10am, there were no rental cars, and nobody had any idea where I should go. (And of course I didn't bring the phone number.)
I finally realized that in England, a "bus" is for short distances and a "coach" is for long distances, and the Victoria Bus Station and Victoria Coach Station are not the same, and I needed to be half a mile away. It was after 11am when I picked up the car, and at my first stop -- in Shepherd's Bush -- I took the wrong exit from the roundabout, and ended up on the A40. That wouldn't have been a problem -- I just got off at the next exit -- except the next exit was full of roadworks, and it took me over half an hour to go three blocks. So now it was noon, I only had four hours until my test, I was starving and grumpy, and I really didn't need any more practice idling in traffic.
Google Maps says my route should have been 38 miles; my odometer said I went 80 miles. I took a lot of detours. I did arrive for the 4:30pm test in time -- a few minutes early, actually -- but there was a sign outside that read, "Test takers park at the top of the hill," so I did, and I waited. And I waited. And I waited. The parking lot was full of kids taking lessons on backing up and parallel parking, and it was the scariest place in the world to wait, but there were no signs and nobody to talk to, so I just waited. Finally one of the instructors -- after his student came to a violent and unexpected stop right next to me -- told me I had to go to the office furthest away from the parking lot, and I better hurry because if I was late they would cancel my test.
I found the office and gave them my paperwork, including the rental car information because they have to see registration and proof of insurance. The guy threw the paperwork back at me and told me I couldn't take the test in a rental car.
I like to think of myself as pretty jaded, and not surprised by much, but his reason was so stupendously bureaucratic, it shocked me: I couldn't take the test in a rental car, he said, because even though I could drive the car using my international license, and I had full insurance using my international license, the minute he got in the car with me I was no longer 'using' my international license, but my provisional UK license, and the car rental didn't insure learner drivers.
I was flummoxed, but it was obvious I wasn't going to convince him how ridiculous that was, so I asked about rescheduling and he told me -- with a straight face -- that because I didn't come prepared, my test was cancelled and my fee was forfeit, and I would have to pay another £67 to reschedule! I was pissed* but, again, there was no point in arguing with him; I'll call the agency in the morning and give them hell. Obviously, this isn't over yet.
Like most people who fail their driving test, I got in the car and drove off by myself. I called Jessica and asked if she wanted to meet for dinner, since I was about halfway between her work and home, but we couldn't figure out a meeting point, so we decided to meet at her house. Although she was twice as far, she got there half an hour before I did. I drove her to dinner (like a proper date) for the first time, and then returned her safely home, although I did crunch the curb there and back again. (And one time I wasn't even parallel parking!)
Jess gave me explicit directions back to Victoria, and told me it should take 45 minutes. I didn't want to admit it took me 90 minutes, so I sent her an ambiguous text message, "Made it," hoping she'd assume I returned the car, caught the tube, and already walked back to my hotel. She replied, "All the way home?!" so I had to admit that, no, I was still at the car park. I never get away with anything.
In reflection, not being allowed to take the test doesn't bother me -- I still need more practice, although trying to extort another £67 is ridiculous -- but I drove for 8 solid hours and only went 80 miles. That's 10 miles per hour! If the goal was to practice driving, then it was a success. If the goal is to actually get somewhere, then I really don't want to drive in London.
Below is a map of my driving route today, even though it looks like evidence in a DUI conviction. As I've mentioned, the Brits take great pleasure in not posting street names, so this is really a 'best guess' as to where I might have been. I have, for reasons of personal respect, left out all of the little streets that I turned into when I got lost, only to get even more lost. (It turns out maps don't really help when you don't have street names.) I have also not indicated the number of times I went through the same roundabout, or came up the same hill, although suffice it to say that 3 was not an uncommon number.
Next post: My even-more depressing search for a short-term let.
* In Britain, "being pissed" means drunk, not angry.
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