Quote:
Originally Posted by DFB FGXR6
My Dad would drive me out to the gravel roads in and around various dairy farms and orchards, we'd then swap seats. It was far enough out of town that only the farmers who lived out there would be on those roads, completely conducive to a learner. I would have been 14 or 15, so underage and without a learner's permit. One of the few perks of country living. I remember this fondly, it was always a Sunday afternoon because on Saturday I'd be at the local football ground mucking about with friends.
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Funny thing was, the old blokes son was also a senior ambulance officer, who was tasked with teaching me the finer points of driving *in* town, and oh boy did he give me a grilling, "why are you driving over the cats eyes on the road, what are we looking for here, what are the traffic hazards here, how close are you to the car in front and is it an appropriate distance, whats happening 5 cars further along in the traffic, etc"....