Picture this. Driving south out of Edinburgh, I am taking directions from my passenger. We come to a junction where there is a long queue in the left-hand lane but nothing in the right-hand lane. My passenger says, we want the right-hand lane. I was very dubious, having gone that way before, but did as she said. So here I am, in pole position at the red lights, in a right-turn lane going God alone knows where, when I really want to go straight on.
Sorry, says my passenger, if you turn right I can direct you back on to the road. I covertly eyed up the Range Rover Defender in pole position in the left-hand lane, and said, that's plan B. (One trick is to look like a couple of old biddies going home from a coffee morning who would probably have a heart attack if their car accelerated too quickly.)
Lights turn green. I step on the accelerator and make it into the left-hand lane with a decent clearance between me and the Range Rover's bonnet. "That's plan A," I remarked. I wished I could have said to the other driver, sorry, that wasn't done on purpose, I was in the wrong lane by accident, but there you go. EVs for the win.
