Driving School

As we were lying on the beach this afternoon (actually I was doing bombs off the pontoon at Sveti Petar with Ivana but don’t tell anyone) we heard the police siren wailing – and as we walked home we spotted the police car on the corner of the street along from our street – lights still flashing – and decided to walk around the long way so that we could be nosey and see what had happened (rubber neckers at their worst). There was a shiny blue bike buckled and twisted on top of a silver car. And a pool of blood. I nearly stepped in it and was quickly persuaded back by the policeman standing on point.

It’s not the first time I have heard the siren¸ but it is the first accident that I have seen. I’m not sure of the accident rate in Makarska, but have been assured that the details of this accident will be in the Makarska Kronika next week. I will check it out.

In the meantime though, I thought you might like to hear about the hurdles that teenagers must jump through to get their licence, because it is a slightly different process than in New Zealand. The same age limit applies in the first instance- you can get your licence at 16 years but you can’t drive alone until you are 18. I guess that means that you can sit the theory at 16 and then you can start learning to drive – and here’s the rub.

I’m pretty proud of the fact that I taught both of my children to drive. In fact, it was during this process that my son heard me swear for the first time in his life – I had nerves of steel until he hit the rubbish bin after being told to stop, and then burst the rear tyre by hitting the concrete step. (They both now, of course think that they need to tell ME how to drive, but I guess that’s the process of aging –from both points of view).

In Croatia, you can only learn to drive with a driving school. Those in charge of the wheel at these schools have invested a lot of money themselves to become qualified to teach – I understand that this is in the vicinity of 8,000 euro and a substantial period in training to get the diploma which allows you to get into a car with a teenager (who no doubt already believes themselves to be a better drive than anyone older than them).

What’s more, the cost of tutelage by such an instructor doesn’t come cheap – it costs about 1,000.00 euro. This involves not only the practical side of driving, but there is also a first aid course that needs to be completed. A nice wee niche market. (I would be interested in seeing some statistics on teenage boys and car accidents here if anyone can help).

The police here have a zero tolerance for drink driving - cell phones are completely banned while driving, and headlights must be switched on at all times. I know these things because I googled them.
I have not seen many cars with their lights on (I would be fine here with my old Saab) and have been in the local buses along the winding coast road with the bus driver texting or talking on the phone. Sto reci. (with a ‘sh’ on the ‘s’).

Anyway, it’s a public holiday here today - Anti-Fascist Struggle Day which is a celebration of the beginning of the uprising of Croatian antifascist partisans against German and Italian occupying forces on June 22, 1941. Shops have been closed, beaches are full (fuller). It feels like a Sunday.

It’s eight o’clock in the evening as I write this- I’m sitting on my terasa listening while the music teacher along the road plays Irving Berlin’s ‘Blue Skies’ on his trumpet – it’s about 28 degrees and there is not a cloud – delicious.