About time…

Some years ago, I decided that it would be a nice thing to be able to drive a motorcycle. So I got a few lessons, did the theory, and sat the test.

Which I proceeded to fail.

I figured that first time was a fluke, and booked again. However, at the time, the DVTA was in the middle of a bit of a strike, so I got allocated to a test centre miles from Belfast. Where I proceeded to turn to to.

They didn’t accept the paperwork, and I didn’t do the test.

This was starting to get annoying, but I persevered. And booked another test, in Belfast again. And did it on a strange bike.

I failed. Again.

At this point, I’ll confess that I lost the head a bit, decided to pretend it never happened, and never speak of it again. I let the theory certificate lapse, and moved on.

Then a couple of months ago, I thought about it again, booked a few more lessons, did the theory again, and booked another test. For this morning.

I’m happy (and more than a bit relieved) to say that this time, I passed. Which was nice.

Now to leave that part of my licence unused for two years, until all the restrictions are but a distant memory…

Actually, now to await the attendance of some people from the insurance company to see about the scorch damage. But that’s not totally relevant…

6 thoughts on “About time…

  1. There were restrictions during that two year period?

    I’m sorry, officer, of *course* it has a limiter on it, what’s that? It isn’t there? Shoddy workmanship, that, it must have fallen off while I was bimbling along at five miles an hour under the speed limit, it is a limit, not a target, you know…

  2. Sorry, are you implying that you didn’t display the legally-mandated R plates?

    You know, the ones they’ve never made for bikes…

  3. If you’re going to become a hairy arsed biker, it’s ‘ride’ not ‘drive’.

    Two years? Jesus, and I thought one was bad enough.

  4. It always amused me how people at school thought that if they had an accident they’d just replace the restrictor. I never got a satisfactory answer as to how they were going to do that from a hospital bed.

    Also: what’s this about lessons? Lessons, man? Next you’ll be RTFMing!

    Talking of dead on two wheels, my bike is shut up in the shop at the moment. Went in for a service and they uncovered a plot to kill me. Ungrateful I call it.

  5. Also: what’s this about lessons? Lessons, man? Next you’ll be RTFMing!

    As with so many things, it’s not the driving that was the problem. It was the driving in such a way that they’d pass the test. And I’d nine years of bad road habits to unlearn…

    By a plot to kill you, I assume you mean something mechanically unsound with the thing? Which would imply improper care on your part…

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