Wednesday 11 June 2008

Saudi Driving Masterclass No. 2


I'm now used to driving in Saudi Arabia. I don't mind making the occasional improvised fifth driving lane, I beep my horn so much there's a faded patch on my steering wheel and I accept that the agreed stopping distance at 120 km/h is about two metres in Saudi Arabia.

I’m even used to the fact that they can’t even design roads in Saudi Arabia. In the UK, if you are driving on a motorway and come to a junction/exit, first the traffic already on the motorway turns off on to a slip road. About 400 yards later, traffic coming onto the motorway joins via another slip road. Simple…or so you would think. Not here in the “Magic Kingdom” oh no! Here, at a junction the traffic joins the highway via a slip road and 100 yards later is the slip road off the highway. Imagine, if you will, trying to leave a highway over here. As you are trying to get over into the inside lane to take the exit, you are fighting for space with the cars joining the motorway!!

But there is one thing I just can’t get used to. Whilst they aren't peculiar to Saudi Arabia, they have the worst ones I've ever seen. I'm talking about "Weavers." You know, the guys that insist on swerving from lane to lane, putting everyone's lives at risk for no apparent gain.

When I go home each night along what I call The Dammam Highway (why do you guys have two or three different names for every main road?!), I normally get into the middle lane and stay there. Driving on the inside lane is suicidal, because cars joining the highway don’t bother to look whose already on the road. Also people in a real hurry like to speed down the hard shoulder which can really surprise you especially as there is barely enough room.

That's exactly what I was doing the other day when I spotted a ridiculous weaver swerving from lane to lane, cutting everyone off and missing the other cars by mere inches.

This weaver, who was driving a huge 4x4, was just ahead of me when I joined the road. A few junctions later he was still just ahead of me. And by the time he headed for his exit?

Predictably, he was just behind me.

Harebrained Idiot.

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