The NCT: An emotional roller coaster

Published on 15 October, 2017

You have to be able to accept failure to get better.

Overview

This post may not be for everyone. There are a few people out there who have never even seen the inside of an NCT centre (you are not missing anything). Swapping a new car every three years saves you from this ordeal but…

For anyone “slumming” it in a car four years or older, the NCT is a necessary evil that we must all partake in on a bi-annual basis. For the poor unfortunates who run 10 year or older car its an annual event, just like Christmas or the flu vaccine…

From the moment you spot that horrible green and yellow sign plonked on top of a harsh grey Celtic Tiger warehouse, your heart rate rises a level, just where you can feel it pumping against your rib-cage. You park up.

Where did I leave my stupid licence? Do I need the tax book for this? Oh crap, I never checked if all the lights are working. Did I put washer fluid in for the wipers? Does it matter? How much does this cost again? Ah well to late now, in I go.

The sterile waiting room is full of tension and the stink of anxiety. A few watch their pride and joy through the observation window like a proud mother on the side-lines at child’s under twelve rugby game, some smug fecker with his 2012 Honda Civic scrolls away on his phone, safe in the knowledge he isn’t failing and if, like me, you drive a 14 year old Alfa Romeo, you are praying to the NCT gods to please let it pass.

The inspection man calls out your name, just like the nurse at the Doctors office before that flu vaccine. Up you hop, “ID, log book, keys please. Thanks, it should only take twenty, twenty five minutes” the inspection man disappears and you hear your car fire up.

Beep! Oh yeah, I forgot they check the horn. Well at least that works. Good start. Your confidence is up. Then you hear him rev the nuts off the car. Oh god, what are you doing! Something's going to break, I know it. This goes on for what feels like a life time. He strolls around the car, you have no idea what he is up to, but it cant be good. In he hops and shuffles the car down to the next inspection bay, it has now left your line of vision. Sit back down and pray to those NCT gods.

In the meantime the lovely man with the Honda Civic jumps up when he hears his name called and is presented with a pristine green sheet. It passed, unsurprisingly. You start wonder how much a 2012 Civic would cost? I should sell my shitbox and buy a 2012 Civic. Yes! That’s the sensible option!

In those moments of daydreaming bliss and delusion you forget about that fact that your car is now perched eight feet in the air with a man and his flashlight poking around underneath. You strain your head to look at the car and observe his face. Was that a grimace? Oh, that cant be good. Those tyres are definitely rubbish. Was the suspension knocking when I got here? I bet it's rusty! Just sit back down and accept your faith.

You hear the distinctive rattle of the printer in the office. Was that two sheets printed? Is it mine? I must have passed! They call your name, he places the A4 sheet on the desk in front of him, lifts the lid of the electric green highlighter and proceeds to break your heart with each sweep of that stupid green marker… "The front left tyre needs replacing, the brakes on the back are gone, your front right control arm is shot and there is rust in the floor pan. You have 21 days to get it re-tested call this number to book".

Thanks….Okay, okay just give me the sheet. I want to get the hell outta here.

You plod out to your car and survey the green and white test sheet. Ugh, I didn’t listen to a word he said, what failed again? I wonder how much of this I can do myself? I’m sure welding a floor pan cant be that hard. I hear these PCP deals are pretty good. Maybe I’ll just get a brand new Toyota? Where is the number for the scrapyard, maybe I’ll get €500 for it there? I better call the mechanic…

Anthony Murphy

I just kept turning up and eventually they let me drive some shiny new cars.