Left-tenant

Yesterday was first my taste of US Army Europe bureaucracy. If it weren't for the helpfulness of the Brits, I can't image having pulled it off.

The short of it: I retrieved my car, got my license, registered it, applied for a VAT gas card, studied for/passed a driving test, attended a driving 'ride-along' with a British policeman, and drove 5 hours back to Scotland in one day. Bear in mind that the majority of those tasks had to be completed during normal business hours. According to the secretaries at the pass and registration office, I am the only person in the organization's history to accomplish this.  The secret is a nervous smile that, while friendly and inviting betrays a quiet helplessness. Puppy eyes, as it were. Perhaps it can be improvised, but I can only pull it off in moments of desperation, as was the case yesterday.

At any rate, bureaucracy is not the subject of this post. Driving in Britain is far more interesting.

To begin with, I've driven in five European countries and several big cities, European and American. With the exception of Prague, it's gone fairly well. Nevertheless, to a newcomer these sinuous 'carriageways,' as the Brits call them, are the most distressing.

The Left-Hand Side of the Road: This is what you expect to be the most confusing part of the experience. Indeed, it is, at first, nerve-racking. After a few minutes, however, you are accustomed to it. Occasionally, you might find yourself on the right-hand side of the implied lines of a parking lot, but you've anticipated this difference, so its easy to overcome. The hardest part is turning right onto a two-way carriageway; you have to look right first, then left (if you look to clear near-side traffic first). Your head will instinctively turn the wrong way every time, which nearly cost me my life this morning.

The Super-Roundabout- The roundabouts of Italy and Germany were fairly straightforward, or as straightforward as a roundabout can be. In Britain, however, the roundabouts are larger, three or four lanes is common (I can only imagine what London is like), and more frequent. Some even incorporate stoplights and marked lanes. The rule is, if I've got it right, that you're supposed to keep your right hand turn signal activated (as you are moving clockwise) just until you pass the exit before the exit you intend to take, at which point, you switch on your left turn signal. Roundabouts often come in rapid succession of each other, so after you leave one, you enter another in a hundred yards. It sounds easy, but it can easily overwhelm a fresh-off-the-boat American like myself.

Country Roads- However, by far, the most difficult parts of British driving for newbies happen along the country roads.  To illustrate, one road I took, maybe ten miles long, one lane in each direction, boasts a government warning sign that reads '137 Deaths on this Road in Last Five Years.' All the digits, including the hundreds place, were fastened by hand-removable screws, allowing government workers to easily update the number as appropriate. Most importantly, British country-roads are narrow. An 04 Chevy Malibu Classic only barely fits between the line and quintessentially British stone fence that boundaries the road and farmland. There is, of course, no shoulder; this is a luxury, and a sign foretelling your good fortune always precedes one. The speed limit on these roads is 60 mph and other drivers will expect you to keep that speed at least, sometimes even while turning. Since the roads follow erratic (maybe even several hundred year-old) property lines, many turns are razor sharp. The far side of the bend can't be seen, owing to the shrubbery and fencing. Drivers, it seems, go speeding around the corners blind. Today, an old lady was walking in the street (for there is neither shoulder nor 'footpath') just around a tight turn. I don't know how the drivers that pass me could have made that turn at their preferred speed without killing her. Fortunately, I drive slowly and had plenty of reaction time.

And Finally, Hamlets- Old Scottish villages have very narrow roads, but allow for street parking along the 'kerbs'. Usually, cars cannot come from both directions simultaneously without crashing. The Scots, and presumably the British also, devised a system to deal with this. If the parked cars constricting the traffic are on your side of the road, you yield to cars coming toward you, and vice versa. This is capped with a wave you give to the yielding driver as you pass. Surprisingly, this system is held to universally; I haven't seen anyone have to reverse out yet. 'Zebra,' 'Pelican,' and 'Puffin' crossings complicate the procedure, but I've already gone on enough about driving.

Needless to say, it's stressful to a novice. This is no fault of the British system, which appears to be working well enough for them.

Today, while lost in Cupar (the GPS is very hit-or-miss here), I turned into a British grocery store to relax and buy some snacks. They sell mostly groceries there, but along the back wall, to my astonishment, they have a section dedicated to motley. In little boxes, about a foot long by three inches thick, this grocery store sells 'Men's Dress Suits.' Literally, inside the little box is a full suit, folded and sized to the specifications written on the box, in different colors and with pin-stripes if so desired, for 19.99 pounds. In other boxes, of other sizes, you can buy shoes, shoe racks, dressers and end-tables (assembly required), winter coats and other things that you might happen to need but could never actually anticipate this store having. Even if you knew they sold random items, you could never know what random items they'd be selling, as the section was too small and too disorganized to be relied upon. It wasn't even a large grocery store, by American standards.

Until you can buy suits in boxes from Wal-Mart, the United States is far from bringing the illusion of class to the poor.