Transitioning from Vancouver driving to Regina driving has been a bit of a challenge. I was quite pleased that I was able to navigate the busiest of Vancouver’s streets with relative ease. You signal, the car behind you leaves a slight hole, and you take it. If you don’t, the hole closes and you get hung out to dry until you grow some balls. There’s give and take, but there ain’t no hand holding.
I’ve been honked at twice already by adopting these same practices in Regina. I signaled to change lanes, and the girl behind me began to accelerate into the hole. Unbelievable. I was having none of it. I shut the door on her, took the lane, and she honked at me. Later, a courier van was stopped, about three car lengths short of an intersection with both flashers going. As I pulled in front of him, I signaled to turn right (into the turning lane) and he began to move forward. He started to honk at me because I had the audacity to continue with the flow of traffic and make my turn. I had a full car length on him when I pulled in front.
I would describe myself as a patient, aggressive driver. I give when someone wants a spot, and I take, when I need a spot. Occasionally, you may need to take your foot off the accelerator to let me in, but you’re not going to have to go diving onto the sidewalk to avoid me.
I’ve been slowly getting up to speed in the office as well. It’s a little weird being in a familiar place, eating food from my own fridge, and drinking beer from my usual establishments. I had supper with Cris last night, and I had difficulty adjusting to the reality that she is only a phone call away whenever I want to speak to her, or see her. I’ve spent the last month crossing paths with perfect strangers, old friends, and foreign friends with the expectation in my mind that it would be some time before I’d see them again, if ever.
I feel like I’m learning how to live like a local again.