How Hard Can It Be?

“How hard can it be?”

Whenever I hear the question, I think of the summer of 2004 when I told my friends why I was going to rent a car for our trip to Oxford, England. Yes, I knew they drive on the left, not the right, side of the road. But I would counter by repeating to myself, “Stay left; stay left.”

“How hard can it be?”

Not very, if that’s all there was to it. But, then, the steering wheel was on the wrong side, too, which meant I had to change gears with my left hand. That is, if one could find the gears. I never found reverse, which was fine until we ended up going the wrong way on a one-way.

And, then, they had these things called roundabouts, which reminded me of those revolving doors once popular in department stores, where you had to jump in and out at exactly the right time.

Except I was in a fast moving car, and there were multiple lanes with multiple choices for exiting. And, oh yes, the car was about the size of a golf cart, with about the same protection should one get in an accident, which, in our case, seemed inevitable.

“How hard can it be?”

Which is why I returned to the airport and took the bus.