Confessions of a Left Hand Driver

I approach the left side of the car with confidence. My right hand pointing the key fob at our rental Toyota RAV 4 like Harry Potter uttering “alohomora” and the locks click. Behind me about 1.5 meters, holding her Prince Phillip distance, I hear “Ummmm” Never one to outwardly question me in public (bahhahaha), Diane is subtlety enjoying the coming moment as there is no steering wheel awaiting me beyond the tinted glass. 

This will be only one of many instances where my 32 years of driving experience will fail me as I try to remember that the Semi rushing at me in the right lane is actually doing it correctly. Australia has many British quirks. Politeness, accents that vary within single kilometres and right hand fucking drive. 

Now you may ask; what makes left hand drive so superior to right hand drive? 72.5% of roads on this planet and all roads on other planets are left hand drive. Everyone knows that, ask anyone. Left hand drive is the greatest. We will eliminate all right hand drive cars by Memorial Day. People are saying that right hand drive cars are terrible. The worst.......Woooah. Channelled my inner Trump a bit much there. Apologies. 

I don’t know where the far left front corner of my car is. For all left hand drive cars, I don’t need to know that, I can see that corner. I have to sense the far right corner. My senses are not tuned up on the far left and I keep nearly hitting things on the far left, or over correcting and nearly hitting things on the right. I’ll figure that out, or ding some wallabies, either way. 

Focus. There is so much that can go wrong turning right in left hand travel roads. Their right is basically our left, but their left turns into the left lane.....duh. It takes some getting used to. I have rarely focused so hard travelling at 50 KPH with a left turn via a round about coming up. With all the "Ummm's" coming from the passenger seat it’s like I have a drive instructor, or failed comedian, in the passenger seat. Diane won’t read this right?

The blinker controls are on the wrong side of the steering wheel. For sure.  Everything else is correct. Right foot handles gas and brake, left foot sits there like the bastard step child automatics have created. The steering wheel makes the car go left when turned left. At least they got that correct. In Canada my left hand is always free to operate the blinker because it’s not shifting or messing with the radio like my right hand gets to do. Lefty is the designated blinker, lights and elbow out the open window arm. As God intended. This right hand drive business means that role is now given to the right hand. And my brain is having none of that. Want to signal left? Wipers to single pulse. Want to signal right? That’s high speed wipers if you hit it hard enough. Honking and yelling “Don’t you see my fucking wipers going at warp speed!!!!” is further reduced in effectiveness by the designated-wave-and-Trudeau-salute left arm frantically flipping people off from INSIDE the car. Very inefficient. 

So with a sigh from me and a giggle from Diane with each failed attempt to activate the signals instead of the wipers, we are working our way up to Port Douglas today trying to get my right arm to accept its new role. It does seem excited to practice the Trudeau salute however.  

Blessings, 

Dwayne 

from Cairns Australia