Spanning three generations, 'Share The Moon' is the family saga of one girl, one moon and three lives; one Spanish, one English and one Finnish. Blended together into a captivating life journey and infused with tenderness and humor, each post can be read as an individual stand-alone piece. To read the complete adventure start from the very first post, 'Share The Moon', and simply work your way upwards. Welcome to my journey on the first Sunday of every month!

Sunday 11 August 2019

Automatic Transmission

My thoughts are rudely truncated by the lady behind the counter renting me a carand she duly brings me back to the present in San Juan, Tenerife, and out of my moment of reminiscing (see post A Tibetan Story).  Looking up from her screen, she tells me that there are no automatics today or tomorrow. It's the last few days of my vacation, and if I want a car today and now it will have to be manual. She has one parked just outside and it is mine if I want itI tell her that it must be automatic and I explain why; after my divorce the house, the car, the life that went it, was all washed away and I now only have a car at home in Helsinki when I rent or when a friend kindly loans me theirs. But the vast majority of these have had automatic transmission, putting a string of delectable vehicles all out of my yearning reach. You see, I have only ever driven cars with manual transmission.




I want to tell her that I return to driving school where I take a series of lessons to correct this shortcoming. My instructor called Henrik spends the first lesson teaching me the basics from scratch as I accidentally mistake the accelerator for the brake and hopelessly search for a non-existent clutch. He tells me to feel no shame, that many women my age newly-widowed or divorced return to driving school to brush up driving skills never implemented during years of marriage where this task was largely left to the husband. Once faced with no driver they have no option but to relearn the driving skills long ago forgotten. By comparison, I am an easy case; I can drive perfectly well and have over twenty years of experience behind me, just not with an automatic. By the third and last lesson I have nailed automatic transmissions. It's a hot summer's day and I am in heaven as I effortlessly reintegrate myself into the busy traffic, enjoying my beautiful city and everything that passes by me as the radio gently hums in the background. I have missed my cars and it feels wonderfully liberating to drive again.





What a world of easy driving, I think to myself as I wait for the lights to change on the maritime Pohjoisranta Avenue with the imposing Ice Breakers on my right and the red brick Military Museum on my left. Once you lose the gears and fiddly clutch, a new world opens up at long traffic lights; You can put on your make-up, straighten your hair, even write a review on Trip Advisor about driving instructors. In theory, you could put on the kettle and make yourself a cup of tea, even make a sandwich if you have a small kitchen facility installed in the central unit between the driver and passenger seats. Uncle Fernando has all the gears on his disabled vehicle transferred to the side of the steering wheel (see post Columbus And The Missing Gravestone), so I see no reason why they cannot do likewise for vehicles with automatic transmission. The possibilities are endless and I am now done with manual cars.

The Henrik now happily seated next to me is a completely different person from when we started out just three lessons ago. My diligent instructor has been replaced with just another passenger immersed in his phone, just as passengers usually areHe is now coordinating with his wife what to pack for the forthcoming weekend at the cottage, browsing his on-line banking, and generally telling me about the sauna he will have at the cottage and the friends he will invite. He has even switched on the radio and that is the ultimate sign that he has forgotten that I am the student and he the instructor. I need not be told that I am certified competent, for I know this from his relaxed demeanour. But he does and advises me to rent only automatics in future. That way I do not revert back to ingrained manual behaviour. So sorry, Madam-whoever-you-are, this is why I must rent a car with automatic transmission.





But, where was I? Oh yes, let me continue telling you about the Cars With Memories in our family. I still have to tell you about the first car in our family. Before The Tank appeared in our life, there was a metallic-blue car called ANH-549, or the Saab 900 as it is better known. ANH-549 arrived alongside my marriage in much the same way as an already existing child, and I have only hazy recollections of it, for the fear of Finnish winters were too much for an inexperienced driver fresh out of English driving school. I never drove this vehicle and it never really felt mine. This was a time when Hugo still insisted on wearing his slippers so that he could marry the PrinceSofia had not yet joined our family and we were just three (see post Cars With Memories). If we were to meet for coffee, we could perhaps become friends and talk about cars, family, husbands present and past, children, dreams, the art of living a life you did not sign up for, and so much more. But I guess that you are not interested in this, you just want to rent me a car.




have no idea how long we have been here searching for my rental car with non-negotiable automatic transmission, but I think that at least an hour must have gone by, and I sense that you are beginning to get tired of me and my stories. Finally you wearily look up from your keyboard, and politely but firmly inform me that THERE ARE ONLY MANUALS available for renting today. The automatic option will take two daysI sensibly capitulate, sign the rental agreement and pay the fee on my credit card. After collecting the keys for the vehicle, I walk out into the bright sunshine to search for my new travel companionFour door, white. Manual. Henrik is not here so I logically reason that he will never find out. Now I am a Woman with Wheels.





To be continued...

Next post : 25th August: Woman With Wheels


 Note: All written content is the intellectual property of this Author. Image material is drawn from a combination of Pixabay with occasional additions from private family archives.

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