"Really?" That was the first thing that I uttered when my DSA examiner informed me that I passed my driving test. Apparently, I was not that bad. Well, actually I was not. I incurred 7 minor faults but I knew I drove quite well. Even managed to hold a conversation or two with my examiner. She was a pleasant examiner, made me at ease throughout. As I was reversing into one of the bays in the DSA car park, guess what, I stalled
. As she explained how I "managed" to pass, I was still waiting for her to say, "I am joking, really". However, as she stepped out of the car, I knew it was not a dream. I was actually holding a Pass Certificate! I knew my driving instructor was so pleased (hopefully)as he hurried to drop me off Kings Lynn station. I wanted to talk, shout and share my whole test experience but the train for King's Cross was leaving in 4 minutes! Shook my goodbyes (and gratitude) and sprinted to the nearest opened carriage. Honestly? I was not even bothered if I missed the train. I was happy!
As the train slowly pulled out of Kings Lynn Station, I felt a bit weird. Happy and thankful (I passed!), afraid (that I did not pass and everything was actually a dream) and was very excited (can't wait to tell everyone I passed). However, I was quite sad. I probably knew Kings Lynn's roads better than those in London by then.
As expected, I sent texts to my friends and family. I may have exceeded all my text limit but frankly, it was all worth it. Every now and then, I would have a peek in my rucksack just to make sure that my certificate was safe.
As our train approached Platform 9 3/4 
, I knew it would be a magical journey from now on (as long as I don't earn 6 penalty points within a couple of years).
I did mention that I passed, didn't I?
