Letter from Prague The Czech school of driving
After years and years of holding out, and scrounging lifts from my parents, I finally took the plunge and decided to learn how to drive. This was something I had already flirted with in my native Scotland. But alas, I had made no more progress than locating where my mirrors were and stalling my way slowly around a country cul-de-sac or two. My mother has a conspiracy theory that British driving instructors can at times be somewhat ponderous when it comes to actually teaching their students how to drive. My experiences at the hands of my full-throttle Czech instructor couldn't be more different...
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