driving everyone

I said that I miss having a car and I thought that what I missed was having a way to get around, to get home after dark, to bring lots of groceries home. Turns out that what I really miss is the driving itself.

Background: IE invited a bunch of people over to her house for drinks and cake. Eventually we decided to have the mini-shindig at my place because all of my housemates were gone for the weekend. It ended up being a bit of a tiny party because there was some dinner put on by an attorney that some of the people were at and some people just never showed up and some people we didn't invite because we don't like drunken debauchery and they carry it with them wherever they go, but it was still fun, especially the part involving a really yummy chocolate cake.

At some point, somehow the conversation turned to the idea of going to Moshi (near Kilimanjaro) the next day and we ended up asking someone who works with my case how one gets there. He had no idea how to get there by poor intern sort of transport, but said that he would like to go himself and we could all go in his car. So he showed up with car the next day and we set off, four of us (IE, C, D, me), with the driver.

About 2 kilometers down the road, we pulled into a petrol station and D said, "Okay, [amazedlife], you are driving us to Moshi. You said you wanted to."

Yes, I had MENTIONED wanting to drive, but I didn't think anyone would pay attention to me!

I had my international driving permit, the car was right there full of fuel... I swallowed my nerves about driving on the wrong side of the road (I mean, the left side of the road) and about the fact, did I mention, that this car is a brand-new BMW? and off we went, sans driver.

I have always vehemently acclaimed the virtues of driving old reliable cars. And yes, I believe that. And yes, unnecessary materialism and walking with the poor and blah, blah, blah. All important.

But can I just say, since I will probably never own one, this is an amazing car. I mean, amazing. You get what you pay for, it turns out. I have never driven a car that went that fast, that quietly, that smoothly, that controllably, that comfortably, that powerfully. I mean, amazing. The power... the little gadgets... the leather seats... the acceleration... the steering... Passing people was positively delightful. It swooped out into the next lane and, let me say once again, the acceleration is perfect. Such power, and you cannot hear that the gears might want to be changed until you are well above 5000 RPM.

On the way back, in the dark, I discovered that you can adjust the angle of the headlights from inside the car. Tell me this is not the most amazing car ever. And there is this red glow over your hand when you shift in case you need to see.

Oh, yeah, we saw Kilimanjaro. And a waterfall and some caves dug in 1915 by the Chagga people to hide and live in during their war with the Maasai.

But the CAR. I offered to be D's driver in exchange for some use of it and $99 per month, which is $1 less than what he pays his current driver. In fact, just for $99 per month. As long as I could keep my day job at the Tribunal. I cannot get over how in love I am with this car. It is the kind of car that makes you feel like the best driver in the world (and also the most terrified that you might wreck it). It is the kind of car in which 130 kph feels slow. It is the kind of car in which you see the signs that Arusha is getting closer and you wish you could just keep driving. I would PAY to drive further, in fact, even just driving someone else (everyone else) where they need to go. I'm going through withdrawal now. I want the car back.