Tentatively Tasmanian

It’s a strange, discombobulated feeling – yes, I wanted to add that first for my first blog entry – arriving back to your home country after twelve years overseas.

My biggest fear?

Driving on the left hand side of the road again. Surrounded by humungous twin cab utes, relatively unknown in Europe which usually has cars you can slip into your back pocket and squeeze into a parking spot typically the side of a pizza box.

When we first arrived in Switzerland all those years ago, car prices and no tax meant that, as a married couple in our forties, it was the first time in both of our lives that we could actually buy a new car. We both had always bought second hand, as singles and marrieds, the ‘newest’ being a three-year old Magna bought at a government auction.

Using my husband* (who will now be referred to hereon as Craig)’s iPad, I was supposed to navigate us back during rush hour Genevan traffic to our apartment.

I am more useless than a thong (both kinds) in winter when it comes to reading maps and the damned iPad would refresh the direction of the screen every time I turned it around to try and face the streets we were supposed to be driving alone. Craig, in the brand-new car, was sweating bullets and by the time we arrived back to our the undergound car parking spot, he switched the engine off and we both sat there, recovering for a good quarter of an hour, the silence only interrupted by sighs of relief.

Craig is an introvert, but one who is a quiet achiever, a good listener and when he does say something it’s always worth listening to or very funny. Whilst not being the loudest in the room, he is certainly one of the bravest and always climbs onto the horse (or new car, in this instance) and feels that fear and does it anyway and all those buzzwords.

Good for him, you say and quite right, too. I am also an introvert but can ‘play’ at being extroverted for a while and come across as hilarious and sorta interesting until the pressure to be witty or initiate small talk becomes too much and need to hide away for a while and recover. I like my alone time, in other words. And unlike Craig, I’m a complete coward when it comes to trying new things, despite my outward bravado.

I showed a newly-made friend (also Australian) the new car, and she said, “Oooh let’s for a drive!”

“Nope. No. NO. I’m too scared to try it. You’ve seen it, now get out of the car.”

It took me two weeks before I felt like I could tackle a small drive to the supermarket, sticking to the right-hand side of the road and not have doors peeled off or flatten elderly people crossing the street. To be completely honest, it was specifically scheduled for 10:30 on a Tuesday morning, guaranteeing slow traffic and no time pressures. Despite this caution, I still swiped the side view mirror on a couple of wheelie bins by the kerb before reminding myself to stick closer to the white lines painted on the bitumen.

Fast forward twelve years and we land in Hobart, having researched, discussed, haggled and purchased a new car online. Jet lagged, cold and confused, we arrived at the dealership, were shown all the bells and whistles and had the cloth whipped off the car in a rather moving ceremony. The saleswoman could see me listing towards the floor in exhaustion and offered to take us on a drive with her first, which was eagerly agreed to.

We pootled around New Town and Moonah and she chatted away to Craig in the front passenger seat about rear video for parking, linking the iphone and all sorts of other thingamajigs. We pulled up in a clearing near the hockey centre and right in front of us were a flock of Rosellas.

THIS got my attention. “LOOK! ROSELLAS! I forgot how beautiful and bright they are!”
The vehicular bells and whistles had completely failed to lodge themselves into my brain.

That was two weeks ago. Craig’s been happily driving us to scenic spots, house inspections, Services Tasmania, the shops and the bank. I’ve driven back twice, with him nervously and urgently whispering “TT, YOU’RE TOO FAR TOO THE LEFT, YOU’RE TOO FAR TO THE LEFT….” and I would correct this, sitting forward and straight back and peering through the windscreen like Mr Magoo mid- anxiety attack.

Well today is the day. I’m meeting two lovely ladies (gotta love Hobart for its friendliness) for lunch at Eastlands Shopping Centre which is on the other side of the river. It’s bucketing down with rain and my stomach is lurching at figuring out the GPS doo-dad, sticking to the left and not hurtling over the side of the enormous monolith that is the Tasman bridge. Also with remembering to use the windscreen wipers and not the indicator lights when required and that pesky old things such as keys don’t go anywhere.

This is the first time that I wish I could drive and then drink a few generous G&Ts to celebrate my safe arrival and somehow drive back home again.