Confessions of an old learner driver: would I get my licence despite not knowing left from right?

‘Learning to drive in Sydney’s east was depressing. The roads were full of potholes and Porsches, and people seemed to actively want to kill me.’ Photograph: Image Source/Rex Features

The journey began – like all good journeys – in the Downing Centre local court. I had just successfully contested a driving charge (failure to wear a seatbelt) with my friend Jemma (I was the passenger, she was driving).

Some of our evidence hinged on the fact that Jemma was an older P-plater – and therefore less likely to take risks. Jemma was prudent in part because of her age, in part because we had a baby in the car with us, and in part because she’d had intensive driving lessons with a super-instructor called Grace. After we won our case, Jemma turned to me and said: “Promise me you’ll ring Grace. She’s the best and she will be the one to help you get your licence.”