Dogged determination and daily driving lessons paid off for 76-year-old Mubarak Sear, who passed his driving test in Bradford after being told in his home town of Milton Keynes that he was too old to drive.

As reported in the T&A, Mr Sear’s driving instructor said he was an inspiration to elderly people, showing that age doesn’t have to hold them back.

So let’s hear it for older drivers! There’s a common, and rather dated, misconception that they tend to be ‘Sunday drivers’ – pork pie hat and blue rinse peeking above the driver and passenger seats as they trundle along at 20mph.

But, as far as I can tell, older drivers are more responsible and courteous than many of the crazy young things racing around this city.

I’ve lived in various parts of the country and I’ve never come across such mad boy racers as there are in Bradford.

The most annoying ones are those who appear to be cruising around, wanting to be seen.

While the rest of us are trying to get from A to B, they’re darting about all over the place; swapping lanes, cutting up, tailgating, and making a point of not using an indicator. God forbid they should go to the effort of flicking that little lever at the side of the steering wheel up or down.

Funny how some drivers want the world to know they have reproduced – by putting a ‘Little Princess/Monkey On Board’ sticker in their rear window – yet they can’t be bothered to show other road-users any courtesy by indicating left or right.

They say you don’t really learn to drive until you’ve passed your test, and that often means picking up bad habits. Having had the ‘ten to two’ steering wheel rule drummed into me by my driving instructor, I occasionally imagine him tut-tutting whenever I fall into the lazy ‘crossover’. And I’m sure he’d cringe at my futile parallel parking. I didn’t learn to drive until I started working, mainly because I couldn’t afford lessons before then.

I had no burning desire for L-plates the minute I turned 17 anyway, and there’s no way I would’ve been allowed to drive my parents’ car, so I’d never have been one of those cool sixth-formers who drove to school and parked next to the teachers. I know nothing about cars and, for me, driving is just a way of getting around. But I do know that if someone lets you out in front of them, you lift your hand to say thanks.

Something a lot of drivers in this city seem to have forgotten since they discarded their L-plates.