I have broken the curse of the E Larkins.
Up until a few months ago, I had fully convinced myself that I would be the third E Larkin over three generations not to drive. On Friday, 5 February 2010, I passed my driving test first time round.
So what, you may ask? It was and still is a big deal for me. Driving, in my opinion, is the literacy of this century. You need to be able to drive to get on in life, despite everything that is being done in the world to get people to car share or leave the cars at home. For example, there are quite a few jobs I have missed out on (i.e. did not apply for) due to not having a driving licence, but also having an irrational fear of driving. Totally irrational.
Driving and non driving in the blood
What is also totally irrational is why my granddad Edward Larkin didn’t drive (the first E Larkin who could have driven). While it may not seem unusual for a man born in 1910 and who lived most of his life in a town not to drive, his case was different, his father had two cars. Martin Larkin, a former coachman at Wilton Castle in Enniscorthy had traded a livelihood based around coaches and horses to move to the centre of New Ross. (Why he did this I do not know, this isn’t Who Do You Think You Are?) There, he established his own business, running a hackney cab service with two cars. There was a lull in operations at one stage, when he refused to drive the Black & Tans somewhere and they hung the wheels of his cars up on the walls of their barracks as punishment. There were about six cars in the town, so of course one would expect that young Edward (one of just two sons) would take over the reins (excuse the pun). Apparently he had a crash or a minor tip. Enough to stop him from ever driving again.
This non-driving extended into the next generation – but just the E Larkin in the family. As I am the only E Larkin in my generation of the family and as things happen in threes I fabricated a possible curse on the ability of E Larkins to continue driving after learning initially and resigned myself to the possibility I may never drive.
Excuses for not driving
So many people die on our roads that a fear of driving is quite a rational one when you think about it, not irrational. Or so I told myself. I had every excuse going.
Living most of my adult life in Dublin from the age I was old enough to get behind a wheel I had the perfect excuse for not driving. “I can’t afford a car.” “A car would be a waste of money, I’d still have to take public transport to work.” “I’ve no need for a car.” “There’s nowhere to park a car.” “A car wouldn’t be safe in this area.” And so the excuses grew.
I spent a small fortune on taxis in Dublin. I got buses and trains or lifts between Dublin and my hometown at weekends. I once got a train to Westport with a non-driving friend to get a lift from friends in Newport in Mayo to a wedding in Portumna, Co Galway the next morning. On the way home from a Greystones town council meeting I asked a stranger, Deirdre de Búrca, the Green Party politician, for a lift to the Dart. Given the opportunity to drive a friend’s automatic car on the Grand Prix track in Melbourne one night, I chickened out.
Moving on: No country for non drivers
Moving “down the country” in 2008, I was still in denial. I got lifts or buses to and from jobs in Waterford, I got around my little problem quite effectively. When I did get a car of my own it sat outside the door for months as I would walk past it and walk the 30 minutes “downtown” for “exercise”.
There were a few turning points in the past 12 months that spurred me on to drive. The first was my mother’s early retirement. Some days we’d take off in my car, more often than not, with her driving. Gradually I drove more and more.
Then a friend’s baby brother turned 17 and was driving away, not a bother. That was embarrassing.
Then something very scary happened a friend. I told myself one day, as I was driving the rollercoaster road that is the R700 between New Ross and Kilkenny, that driving a car with a passenger beside me could not be as terrifying as what my friend was experiencing.
I also did a lot of research on a fear of driving. I self-diagnosed myself as being a perfectionist. So, in keeping with this, I learned and read up what I could on driving, reading my car handbook from cover to cover. If I was going to drive I had to be sure I knew what I was doing before I even got near a set of car keys.
When driving becomes ‘automatic’
What really helped though was something explained in the book Nudge. For the first time I saw the advice I’d shut out for years like “It’ll come to you” explained in scientific language.
There are two parts of the brain. One where you have to think about things before doing them and another where things are automatic. Driving a car is a classic example of how something learned moves from one part of the brain to the other. It came to me: I realised I would ‘get’ driving if I kept practising, which is the advice I’d been given all along. But this advice had a scientific basis. I could believe it. Before, I used to think, “Ok other people get it eventually but I won’t be able to do all the multitasking involved”. With this in mind and my perfectionism, I started admitting that while I didn’t drive much and was a learner driver, I did technically know how to drive, I was just lacking confidence. It was a release.
In early December 2009, about 10 years after I had gotten my first of four provisional licences, it came to me. I started driving a lot and on my own, (I know it’s not allowed, but everyone says that driving on your own is the only way to get confidence, something I lacked severely when it came to driving).
Preparing for the driving test
I only got some lessons from a driving instructor to prepare me for the test the week of the test (I’d had about 12 with 5 instructors over 10 years). I didn’t expect to pass, but thought I’d do it for the experience. To my disbelief, I passed. I felt I’d cheated in a way with people praying for me and sending positive energy, my wearing of an amulet to protect me, taking Rescue Remedy to calm me.
My driving has improved since, with confidence. I’m a rule player, so I feel better about driving now I have a licence to drive. (Well, still have to apply for that once I get some nice photos taken for it).
Everything’s changed. But what may not change in the short term is my unwillingness to drive for Dublin for meetings. Why not take the bus or train when I can sleep/read/work enroute and don’t have to negotiate 45 mins of unpleasant roads this side of Dublin?
Farewell to the curse
And back to the Larkins. While writing this, I realised that technically speaking I’m the fourth E Larkin. So no more curse hanging over me. The only cursing will be letting off road rage steam. Of course, keeping the superstition alive, I must mention that the age I passed my driving test is the reverse numerals of the Larkin lucky number, 13.
