Driving in Canada, listening to Rush and Pink Floyd

I opened the door of the Ford Edge and looked at my wife. She looked at me too.

‘Are we really doing this?’ I asked her. She didn’t speak. Her nervous expression did.

It was Saturday morning, we were renting the car for the long weekend. The main reason was that my wife’s mom was staying with us since Monday and we wanted to take her somewhere nice before dropping her at the station on her way to her son’s place in London, Ontario.

There were other reasons too: I love driving, we love traveling, we love seeing animals, we love water, I like fishing, they love shopping and I had never properly driven on Canadian road since I got my driver’s license last November.

We both entered the SUV. I had never been in the driver’s seat of that sized vehicle before. Back home I drove this little guy:

I looked around inside and it hit me that I had never driven anything without a stick and a clutch without an instructor by my side either.

‘How the hell am I supposed to drive this thing?’ I fastened my seatbelt and asked my wife.