Two years ago I tried to become a lorry driver. Everyone told me it wasn’t the right time, and I should have done it five years ago. ‘It’s a mug’s game now,’ they said. ‘You’ll be sitting around waiting for a job.’
Still, everything I ever did was five years past its prime – buying a house, visiting Prague, becoming a stand-up comedian; all these things were a joyful wild west five years before they occurred to me, apparently, so I wasn’t bothered about hoovering crumbs. I’d moved to Devon, the circuit had forgotten me and I needed something to do. Besides, I really love driving.
Driving for me means freedom, but it was hard won. I failed my standard UK test twice and wondered if there was a country where passing is easier. After all, you could pass in many countries and just get an international carnet.
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