Driving skills honed

I have regularly driven a car since 2011, covered probably around 150,000 kilometres since then, have not caused a collision (may it stay so, I had one, but was not a culprit) nor an accident. With such track record I could claim to be a skilful driver, but I keep in mind complacency comes before the fall. I keep my smugness at bay and every time I sit behind the wheel I make myself realise I might have an accident before I reach my destination and do my best to avert it.

Given the precautions I take and humility I strive to foster, I was delighted to learn my company had paid for a defensive driving course to all company car drivers. On top, I took part in a corporate competition and won a participation in another training, on a racing track. The prize has been probably the most precious one won in my lifetime, saving me some PLN 1,000 I could have paid for such event.

The defensive driving course was obligatory to all active users of the corporate fleet, consisting of whopping 1,300 vehicles, which are involved in 20 accidents (defined as resulting in at least one casualty spending at least 7 days in a hospital) yearly. My employer aims to reduce the number of such accidents to zero by 2025 – a commendable initiative for which I keep fingers crossed, yet I believe doable only by means of decreasing the number of cars in use (which would truly help the planet).

The defensive driving training was split into two sessions – during the theoretical one we analysed case studies of actual accidents and complex situations in road traffic and refreshed our knowledge of recent (imprecise) changes in the highway code.

During the practice sessions we drove around town, instructed how to do it more smoothly, predictably and safely. Needless to say one of the goals was to decrease the fuel consumption and the company cars’ wear and tear.

The second training, on a racing track was far more exciting. During the theoretical part we had truly practical exercises in first aid (commendable) and improved our skills of controlling a car in extreme situations (a waterlogged track was as slippery as thick slush) – we slalomed past obstacles, passed them by to return to the original lane or slid along a curve, trying not to lose traction.

The exercises were meant not only to teach us how to control a vehicle in dire circumstances. Our instructors showed us repeatedly a difference in speed of mere five kilometres per hour might make a tremendous difference in terms of avoiding an accident. Speed kills, you must not forget it! We were also confronted with the fear of falling into a skid or losing control over the car, however outside the public road, where nobody’s life nor health was at peril.

I hope I never have to make use of what I learnt, but if the worst come to the worst, I suppose, I would be more likely to keep a cool head.

Early June, southern Poland

Good to be home after spending over a week in different venues in the hilly southern part of my homeland. First five days in Wisła; the timing of our stay was not haphazard. We turned up to my girlfriend’s second home to take part in the third “Granatowe Góry” – JerzyPilch Festival, a series of (mostly) open-air lectures, discussion panels, workshops and concerts. Despite not being a culture freak, I picked out thought-provoking events from a rich agenda (usually four events taking place at the same time) and appreciated them.

As I dwell on his works and biography, I discover Mr Pilch as a controversial and enthralling figure. He appeared in the spotlight late, in the early 1990s, after turning 35. Written-word-wise, he could boast a superb skill of building long-drawn-out, complex sentences, in which no word is useless and which do not let a reader lose track of the thread. He deftly and humorously painted ordinary events and spiced ordinary places with magic. On the other hand, he was an outright sexist and misogynist. His most renowned book, “Pod mocnym aniołem” being a brutal record of how low an alcohol addict can stoop, has been an inspiration for a film of the same title. As a male, he had several more of less fleeting relationships with women. Towards the end of his life, he married a poet quite probably younger than me, who stayed with him until the end of his days (in which Parkinson disease kept him company). Currently I presume the widow has an affair with Jerzy Baczyński, chief editor of “Polityka” weekly.

I must say I have little understanding for romantic relationships with age gap higher than a generation (in the aforementioned example the age difference is roughly 40 years). I could not even imagine myself, aged 35, going out with a woman aged 25. Folks claim if a younger woman falls in love (if it is indeed love) with a much older man, money has to be in stake. In Pilch’s case, this could not have been the case, as he never earned a lot and quickly parted with his income. Besides, as an alcoholic, he lacked some of the crucial makings of a reliable life companion.

Customarily, the festival attendees were also my girlfriend’s parents, which involved living under one roof with them for five days and nights (we slept in a living room). With hindsight, I was over-optimistic with respect to how smoothly we would get on with one another. The stay went without spats, but being positioned as a guest in a place I am familiar with and where I make myself at home was a kind of uncomfortable. The unease was felt with my girlfriend’s parents, who had an intruder in the flat in which her father grew up.

What I had to put up with were… rituals (as a person afflicted with mild Asperger syndrome I detest them) and the fact the life revolved around eating. I confess I eat to deliver nutrients to my body, minding healthiness of my diet, but do not take much pleasure in consumption. Participating frequently in rituals related to eating or drinking was a misery to me, a waste of time, energy and money (not mine, yet any). I have recently realised I am not fond of celebrating. I realise why it is important to people and for social reasons I take part in celebrations, but do not cherish them as most people do.

As we were leaving for Bieszczady, I felt a deep relief. The weather during the Corpus Christi weekend was not quite fine (lots of rainfall), but made the most of clement mornings and early afternoons wandering past Połoniny, at times above clouds and relaxed indoors during afternoons. On our way back we made a stopover in Lublin, my first ever visit to the city and hopefully not the last one.