For the road users of Tavistock and West Devon – car drivers and pedestrians alike – the news is good and likely to remain so for the near (indeed, the foreseeable) future. The fact is that at present I am not driving – a car that is; for I fear that I could be transporting my dear, patient, ever loyal wife, Ann ‘round the bend’, although she never says it (at least within my earshot) or shows it.

Legally I could still be guiding our old jalopy – more battered these days than a piece of cod in a fish and chip shop – to destinations near and far, but a fall at home, plus other health issues, mean that at present (at least) I am not physically up to steering our Honda Jazz about the King’s highway.

Fortunately we have a garage, and as it is not chock-a-block with assorted worthless junk, as so many appear to be, our trusty blue auto, which has been in our possession for over a decade, currently resides restfully in its concrete box shielded from the cold, frosts, rain and snow of this Devonshire winter. Up until relatively recently Ann would have driven it, but she has been experiencing problems with her eyes which make it unwise for her to get behind a steering wheel.

A small mercy is that the very same day I had my unwanted and painful collision with the floor of our hallway at home, I had notification from those vigilantes at Swansea – The DVLA – that my road tax was due for renewal. Realising it would be a while before either of us would again be able to employ the services of our four wheeled friend, I did not renew the tax.

Instead, our grandson, Tom, used his phone, plus technology alien to Ann and a total mystery – and anathema – to Luddite me, to contact DVLA and register our vehicle in the SORN system. What these letters stand for I do not know, but it means that we can retain our car untaxed as long as it off the road. When – and it must be conceded, if – either of us take to the road again, then a cheque to Swansea will release our chariot from its bondage.

As to driving licenses there is no concern. Being over 70, we have to renew every three years, but we both have over a year to run on our present permissions, the restoration of which is rarely any major problem. One is simply sent a form upon which many major medical conditions and disabilities are listed – most of them grave. If one is able to scan them and not leave a tick against any, then one’s license seemingly is automatically renewed.

That no doctor is involved in the process is a fact which never fails to surprise me, but one for which I am grateful, for any GP worth their salt would only need to glance at me, cursorily, to possibly decide that such an aged, puny, wizened octogenarian should not be in charge of a potentially lethal machine on public roads.

One wonders just how many of we veteran drivers of both genders would be permitted to operate a motor car if we had to submit ourselves to a thorough medical; worse still, if we had to take a driving test every so often. It has long puzzled me as to how, in an era dominated by concerns over health and safety in so very many aspects of life, and with draconian rules and restrictions directed at seemingly harmless and trivial pursuits, the very serious business of manoeuvring an automobile escapes so lightly.

Mind you, long may it remain so, as life is already complicated enough for this ancient scribe; the added ordeal of having to buy L-plates, pay for the services of a driving instructor, then sit an exam and suffer the anxieties which the entire long process would cause, would be too bitter a load to contemplate.

Whatever – the reality is that at present we do not have the use of our own transport, the first time, as far as I am concerned, for over 60 years. Do we lament such a situation? Yes – massively; not so much in terms of longish journeys – it is quite a while since we left Devon by anything other than public transport. No, it is in what could be termed the minutiae of life; a visit to the post office, the buying of a newspaper or pint of milk and so forth – this and so much else regarding everyday life at present needs careful thought as we are now in the hands of others – kind family and friends who will transport us to places or collect things for us. For Ann the bus is also a recourse, but here the timetable is the controlling factor.

In short, with the car no longer being an option the freedom of spontaneity is denied us and with this in mind I wallow in self-interest, for I do hope to be able to drive once more, even if it is only to visit my long-term nemesis ‘the supermarket’ again.