Choc, horreur...!

Twice or thrice a week, I do something that seems to cause a mild epileptic fit in everyone who witnesses it. People gesticulate, twitch and shout at me, eyes a-boggling, hands a-flapping. Admittedly, this is far from a rare occurence with me in England, but there's a subtle difference: back home it's usually people inside the car.

Yes, my shocking action is to drive...with...wait for it...the steering wheel on THE WRONG SIDE!!

The scandal.

I have actually been stopped by people kindly informing me that my steering wheel is on the wrong side. Oh gosh! How on earth did that happen?! Thank goodness someone pointed that out before I felt too normal here.

It's not without its benefits, though. Sometimes I feel I've achieved celebrity status. On a mountainbiking jaunt in the hills a couple of weeks ago, a group of road workers cheered and waved as I went past on the way, on my way home, on my scenic, if slightly unintentional detour back up the hill, and again as I finally headed home. There's nothing like it for that warm, fuzzy feeling of familiarity, combined with slight embarrassment.

Lessons learnt
Not many Brits make it down this far in the car.