EMISSIONS:I TRUST YOU'VE had a pleasant break. And, unlike many a motorist around the country, have kept between the ditches in the icy conditions, writes KILIAN DOYLE
I’ve been greatly amused by the antics of some of the mouth-breathers playing car pinball on the roads over recent weeks. It never ceases to amaze me how rubbish Irish drivers are at negotiating cold snaps. You’d think by now we’d have got used to it. I mean, it’s not like we live in Barbados and snow is a freak occurrence, is it?
Still, at least we’re not as bad as our cousins across the Irish Sea. It’s a source of great befuddlement to me how Britain, a country that survived two world wars and Margaret Thatcher, grinds to a halt every time there is the merest smattering of snow.
Its whole infrastructure collapses like a deckchair under a hippo. Word of advice to anyone planning to invade that fine country: wait for a few days of blizzards before making your move, when the stiff-upper lips have crumbled into whimpers and the bulldog spirit has scuttled out the window with its stump of a tail between its legs.
After two days of storms they’d be so defeated they’d gleefully hand over the keys to Queens Liz’s crown cupboard itself in exchange for a nice cup of tea and a set of snow tyres.
I suppose I shouldn’t be too smug. For back in Ireland, cometh the ice, cometh the numptyism. The judges for the annual Darwin Awards would have a field day had they witnessed some of the antics I’ve had the honour of seeing lately.
From the proles skittering sideways down my village’s main street to the goons drifting around corners in their hatchbacks as if they were on the Nurburgring in July, to the over-confident SUV driver who ploughed backwards into a tree after overtaking me on a narrow boreen.
At the other end of the thermometer are the ice cowards tootling along at 8km/h as if they were Mr Magoo negotiating a meteor storm. I’m not suggesting everyone should drive like grizzled ice road truckers, but seriously, where’s your fighting spirit?
Meanwhile, I was having an absolute ball in the Duchess, my torquey little rear-wheel drive coupé. She has all the safety features of a hammer, and wheels as narrow as a kid’s tricycle. She was, consequently, slipping and sliding about like a giraffe on iceskates. It was a hoot.
Of course, I was roundly scoffed at by my neighbours as they swanned past in their 4x4 without a care in the world. Was I jealous? Yeah, right. Where’s the fun in certainty?
For all my bravado, I accept driving on ice isn’t the easiest thing in the world. So here are a few tips, in case you need them, for the next time it snows.
Tip 1: Don’t slam your brakes on while driving on ice. You will crash.
Tip 2: Don’t panic if your car starts to slide. Short of sticking your feet through the floor, Flintstones-style, there’s not a whole lot you can do.
Tip 3: Continue steering until you stop. It’ll take your mind off the inevitable, if nothing else.
Tip 4: Don’t, tempting though it may be, open the doors and jump out. Not only has your car got better traction than you, but it’s better at absorbing the impact of slamming into a wall.
Tip 5: High gears when driving, low gears when you want to slow down, at junctions or descending hills for example. Driving from Dublin to Cork in first gear will cost you an engine and your sanity.
To be honest, I really don’t know why I’m bothering. By the time the next ice storm arrives the vast majority of this foul little country’s motoring population – present company excepted of course – will have forgotten all previous advice. Like new-born lambs, they will gaze with wonder-filled eyes upon the white landscape before running out into the snow and falling flat on their faces. Again.