I had 3 strong pints and a double whisky, then got behind the wheel. This is what happened....

I GLANCED at the speedometer and moved into fifth gear, as I have done thousands of times before. A quick check of the mirrors, and I put my foot down. I reached 60mph, moved into the outside lane, hit 70 and ploughed straight into the back of a grey Audi.

Had this been real life, rather than a simulator, I would have probably just killed someone; if not the driver in front then one of those behind caught up in the carnage. If I had survived, I would be facing jail, the loss of my licence and a lifetime of guilt. All for the sake of a few pints.

“You may have been okay but those behind you would have been the problem,” says Traffic Sergeant Pete Stringer.

I was, he says, too close to a lorry in the next lane; too close to the Audi in front; too fast and weaving between lanes. Suffice to say, I failed.

North Yorkshire Police’s drink-drive simulator can shock even confident drivers and experienced drinkers. I, for my sins, am both.

I’ve never driven under the influence but I’m aware of the thought process that tries to legitimise it – the little voice that says it’s only a short journey; that it was only a few pints; that it’s a quiet road you know well. The insidious, ill-informed voice that finds a way to say: “It’ll be fine”.

But then you hear of the consequences. The wreckage; the heartache; the funerals. I can still picture crash-scenes I have reported from where alcohol was a cause. I have interviewed families ripped apart by irresponsible drivers who thought they’d be okay.

Those who think like that should try the simulator; a stationary machine that lets you drive without going anywhere. It’s like a virtual reality computer game, but it exposes Dutch courage and beery bravado for the nonsense they are.

The on-screen message after the collision

There are two ways to use the machine. The first allows you to don glasses with blurred lenses that recreate the effects of drink-driving.

The second is more authentic and disarming: you drink between each attempt and experience the changing reality for yourself.

It is perhaps indicative of the self-confidence that experience gives, that I feared the latter option would fail. What if I could still drive perfectly well? What if I had to use the goggles to make this article work, I wondered. The voice of reassurance, even now, told me I could handle my drink then handle a car. How wrong I was.

I have driven for 13 years without serious incident and I did well in the initial round. Stone-cold sober, I beat the computer’s target stopping distances at 30mph and 60mph. But as soon as I tried the simulator after a few drinks, I was a ticking timebomb.

Breathalysed after three pints of strong beer and a generous double-whisky, I measured three times the legal limit. And I failed the tests spectacularly.

I concentrated on following the blue car in front of me, and felt I was doing well, but that tunnel vision was lethal.

On the first run, I crashed into a tractor turning out of a side road. On the second, I came within millimetres of hitting the car in front. On the third, I careered head on into a motorcyclist.

On the 30mph emergency stop test, sober, I had beaten the target distance of 22 metres. Drunk, I missed it by eight metres. Equally worryingly, I was six miles an hour over the limit and I had no idea.

When the ‘distraction’ setting kicked in, I fared even worse. While answering text messages, I nearly killed a pedestrian. My sober score of more than 70 per cent became -91 per cent. Appparently I failed to slow down at the entrance to a petrol station. I hadn’t even seen it.

“Your road positioning was dreadful and your distance from the car in front was worrying,” said Sgt Stringer. “You slowed down when you knew something was happening but you had no idea what it was.”

Sgt Stringer and his colleagues see the real version of such journeys every day. 

Some have been drinking immediately before getting in the car; some have been out the night before and are still unfit to drive. The distinction is irrelevant.

“I have no sympathy,” says Sgt Stringer. “If you are an adult you are responsible for the alcohol you have consumed. If you get behind the wheel, the safe limit is zero.

“I do not buy the argument that some people are unlucky. It’s their fault. I am the one who has to knock on doors of loved ones to say people have been killed or hurt by drink-drivers. There is absolutely no excuse.”