I was invited to attend a 'Speed Awareness Course' - and here's what I learned

Everyone was resentful at being there – as if, in their case, there had been a clerical error

Speed Awareness Courses are only offered if the driver hasn't been convicted of any other speeding offences in the past three years (Getty)

I received a lovely invitation from the police to attend a “Speed Awareness Course”. It was something to do with a photo they took of my car and me eager to leave Cardiff. I asked Twitter what to wear. The consensus seemed to be that I should go either as The Stig or as the enormous snail from Trigger Happy TV. I was tempted to turn up dressed as my mini-cab driver character, who uses a smashed-up stock car to screech into Euston station and do handbrake turns in front of a long taxi queue before getting out and shouting “Mini-cab” through his battered helmet. Sometimes, however, even I have to behave….

Three weeks later I pulled up (slowly) at a shabby hotel in Banbury. I whispered to the receptionist that I was there to “meet someone about speed…”. Several people looked up, as it sounded more sinister than I’d realised. I was sent to join my fellow offenders in the “garden suite”. Everybody looked slightly resentful at being there and sat, arms crossed, staring anywhere but at each other. It was as though, in their particular case, there had been some annoying clerical error that meant they didn’t really belong.

The course was run by two people: one was a chirpy, affable, former truck driver; the other seemed to have commuted in from the late 19th century. He reminded me of several of my prep-school teachers – pinstripe suit, watch chain and pink, silk handkerchief peeking out of his top pocket. He never got near enough but I was sure he smelt of mothballs. He was so out of place I longed to know his back story. The unwritten rule, however, was not to ask questions. Everyone wanted to get out and go home, time-wasting was not encouraged.

It was better than I thought. I presumed we’d get told off, and shown photos of horrific accidents. Instead, it was more scientific and factual. I think I took away three points. So that you don’t have to endure the same four hours, here is what I learned.

1. The word “Slow” painted on to a road is an acronym for “Speed Low; Observe Warnings”.

2. If you have a car crash, ring 112 not 999. It goes through to the same people but 112 works all over Europe and, more importantly, they can pinpoint you on a map using GPS. This is particularly useful if you are in an upside-down car in a tree trying to describe your location while veering in and out of consciousness.

3. Incremental increases in speed, such as the difference between 30 and 35 miles an hour, make a staggering difference to your stopping speed. I know this because Tiff Needell, still clearly smarting at not being approached for the revamped Top Gear, demonstrated it in a particularly hammy safety video.

Four hours later we were free. Everyone watched each other drive gingerly out of the car park. I was tempted to wave but I was concentrating too hard on the road and keeping both hands on the wheel. I am a changed man.