The human mind is a strange thing. Mine probably stranger than most. Ever since arriving in the US I’ve been having huge difficulties telling my left from my right when I’m driving.
Reactions to my impaired navigational inability have varied from extreme amusement to utter disbelief. Ginger will say “Turn left here,” and I’ll promptly turn right. I’m slowly beginning to get the hang of it, and I’m not above taking the mickey out of myself by saying: “Do you mean left, left” (pointing left) “or right left.” (points right).
Things got even more confusing when I was told to “Follow the white van…”. What white van? They don’t seem to have vans here. I now have the official translation for this, which is: “Follow the white people carrier”.
“Turn left at the Mexican” didn’t prove to be too helpful either, (a) I’ve not seen anyone wearing a sombrero, and (b) all the shops / food outlets etc. look the same to me, and they are positioned so far back from the the road I’d need binoculars to work out which was a Mexican anyway. Alek fairs no better at giving directions. Not being a driver he tends to leave instructions until we actually go past the junction. And his “Turn left, right here” was a classic that left him wondering why we went off in the wrong direction. I must have got it at least half right, or should that be half correct?
Returning to my sudden transposition of left and right, I have come to the conclusion that while in the car my brain has become conditioned to expect that turning left means turning toward the kerb side, and turning right means crossing the on-coming traffic. All relative to my position in the car that is. So when someone says turn right, I automatically turn left, crossing the on on-coming traffic. Well that is my excuse and I’m going to stick with it.
