Driving lessons

I have always considered myself a fairly proficient driver. That's a lie - I am quite confident that I am the best there is on gods green earth. Years of commuting from the East Rand, which isn't exactly the center of the universe has grounded me in the art.

Jade and I at the ICC

And so I was quietly confident and a little excited when I got offered the opportunity to do some real 'student work'. Fly down to Durban and drive some self indulged golf day patrons around in top end Beamers all day. And then sit on the beach and drink beer while they hacked their way around Serengeti (sic) golf estate.

It turned into an amazing weekend spent with my girlfriend (who organised the 'work' for me). I have however come back with a new respect for just how primitive my baby Volksie polo is in comparison to these behemoths of the road.

Being given the key to a BMW 550 for the first time, one does not simply jump in and put their sheets to the wind. First you need to locate the key slot. I spent five futile minutes devoted to this task before being told by a bemused looking car attendant that it had key less start.

'Right,' I nodded as if I had known this all along and was testing him, 'To the off!' and I reached forward and pumped the engine start button. But to no avail. Foot on the brake, try again.

Eventually I had the extremely quiet 5 liter engine humming gently and hoping against hope that the car wouldn't once again thwart my efforts to get going, I applied some gas.

My first attempt at reverse parking an X6 - with German precision!

The car immediately started beeping in an aggressive manner and the heads up display gave me the evil eye. The hand brake was still up I was told from the now laughing attendant who thrust his head through the open window to give me guidance.

 Eventually... I eased away from the fleet pickup, ego slightly tarnished but ready for a weekend of aggressive driving that had more than a few other close shaves in million rand vehicles.