Andrew Frankel: ‘Not being able to drive reminds you of how lucky you’ve been’

For the first time since passing my test over 40 years ago I have been banned from driving. Sort of. I’m still not clear whether I was technically allowed to drive, but in the event the legalities were really neither here nor there: I couldn’t drive and that was the end of it. My crime? To try to stop my dog running into the road by grabbing him around the collar, for which efforts I was rewarded with a finger so badly broken it required me to be out cold on an operating table for over two hours while one of the country’s most eminent hand surgeons performed the medical equivalent of a full body-off restoration of the inside of the offending digit. This resulted in me being in a cast from the elbow south and this self-imposed ban.

For what it’s worth (very little I expect), my reading of the rules – such as they are – suggests it’s not specifically illegal to drive a car with an arm in a cast per se, but in the event of an incident I’d have had to demonstrate I was still in full control of said vehicle which, without further adaptation, would have been a very tough call indeed.

As I write this many weeks later said cast is, mercifully, a rapidly fading memory and been replaced by a removable splint I only have to wear at night, so I am fully mobile once more.

How did I find not being able to drive? Hateful. I’m not very good when the lights go out for a few minutes, let alone being deprived of my means of earning a living for a few weeks. But beyond the financial inconvenience and needing to park my passion for a while, what I loathed most was having to beg for lifts. Of course I knew everyone involved, primarily the saintly Mrs Frankel, was genuinely glad to help but I still resented every minute. Where we live there is almost no public transport and taxis can never find us. I felt pathetic and helpless. But it made me realise that much as I’d love to grow old in the beautiful Wye Valley where we live, it is simply not practical. The moment I have that conversation with one daughter, the other or, most likely both – “Dad, we know you’re not going to like this, but you’ve had a really good run and we both think that now is probably the right time to hang up the keys, you know, before something happens…” I’ll be back to London in a heartbeat. And if we can’t afford that, anywhere I can get about without being a burden to others. The very thought of it makes me shiver.

“How did I find not being able to drive? I felt pathetic and helpless”

Despite said inconvenience, and thanks only to the kindness of those who took me there and back, I was able to attend the Goodwood Members’ Meeting where I spent an enjoyable day watching some cracking racing and trying not to think too hard about all my friends out there having a terrific time. And absolutely not whingeing about it. I so nearly managed it.

Only once did I find myself pouring my heart out to one of these characters, lamenting the cars I’d no longer be driving that weekend, to which he turned to me and replied, “Have you listened to yourself lately?” He was kind enough not to add “you spoilt bastard”, and nor did he need to. There’s nothing like not being able to drive to remind you how lucky you’ve been and for how long. I shall try harder to remember in future.

There was a moment when I feared this stupid injury might prevent me from going to the US to drive Eddie Hall’s unique Derby Bentley but the recovery went without hitch so I was able to board the flight to Atlanta after all – as you can read about on page 102 of this issue. The car belongs to the Revs Institute (aka the Collier Collection) in Florida, which boasts riches including a Porsche 917K, McLaren F1, Mercedes-Benz W154 grand prix car and dozens of others. The weather was foul and the car quite irreplaceable.

So what constraints did they put on me driving the car? None whatsoever. I just saddled up, headed off and ended up driving it far faster than I’d anticipated, just because I could. The chap from Revs who brought it followed along in a modern car, not to check up on me, but to help out with photography and seemed positively delighted to see this near 90-year-old warrior being put through its paces once more. I’ve said it before but it is worth repeating: it can be the best car in the world but if you don’t get to drive it properly, there’s almost no point climbing aboard.

A recent in-depth report on the future of the car industry by The Economist was as thorough, and to those of us who love cars, thoroughly depressing as you might expect. This particular passage stood out: “In future car brands will be differentiated mainly by the experience of using them, which is determined more by their software than their hardware. Software-defined vehicles, which nowadays resemble super-computers on wheels, will have more features and functions such as infotainment, ambient lighting and voice controls, all improved by over-the-air updates after a vehicle has left the factory. That will open up new ways for the car producers to cash in.”

Happy motoring!

A former editor of Motor Sport, Andrew splits his time between testing the latest road cars and racing (mostly) historic machinery
Follow Andrew on Twitter @Andrew_Frankel