I still don’t know howI feel about the T-plate. The brainchild of Scottish hotelier Robert Marshall, this is a sticker bearing a large green ‘T’ (and a smaller ‘Tourist’ postscript) that visitors can apply to the back of their car, just like learners do with a red L-plate and new drivers sometimes do with a green L- or P-plate.

The short of it is that it’s meant to let other road users know that a driver is unfamiliar with the area, perhaps the car and even rules or local driving habits too. On the face of it, this thoughtful, simple idea seems like – probably is – a good one. 

Marshall told the BBC that he was “stressed out of my head” during an “awful” driving experience on holiday in Tenerife and just wanted a way to let other road users know that he was a tourist, so that they would give him a bit of patience and slack, like we tend to do for learners. Once back home in Scotland, he started making and selling a way to do that.

Scotland, after all, is not without plenty of visiting drivers who don’t know what they’re doing or where they’re going. Most of the world doesn’t drive on the left and yet Scotland is home to the North Coast 500, one of the world’s most famous and successful (or unsuccessful, if it’s your field that tourists are camping or crapping in) road trips.

Advertising that you’re unfamiliar with these surroundings and that other drivers should therefore be warier around you is potentially quite sound thinking.

The T-plates aren’t officially recognised car signs, but Transport Scotland told CNN: “As we understand it, as long as it’s not offensive, you can put what you like on your car.” It’s simple, sensible thinking and a practical solution. So why do I have any reticence about it at all?

I dunno... Somehow, I’m comfortable going into a fishmonger in France and explaining that I’m sorry but I don’t speak brilliant French, so could they possibly demonstrate a little patience with me while I try to remember the right word for prawn?

But to me that feels different to explaining that you don’t quite know what you’re doing with this 1.8-tonne piece of metal but you’re going to drive it down the road at 70mph anyway.

‘So just bear with me if I brake or swerve suddenly when I spot a distillery I’d like to visit, yeah?’

I don’t want driving standards to be excused downward; I’d prefer they were expected upward. Sure, driving in an unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar place can be unnerving.

But it is why we had to pass driving tests in the first instance. We didn’t cut licences out from the back of cereal boxes; it was expected that we’d have a number of lessons and be examined so that we knew that we were capable of doing it properly.

Familiarising oneself with a vehicle and the local driving regulations is a part of the gig. If you can’t be bothered with it, then, well, they have buses.

I’d rather come across a visiting driver who is unfamiliar with their surroundings but, aware that I would have no knowledge of this, is putting serious thought and effort into applying their best driving behaviour than someone who thinks that, because they’ve got a green T on the back of their car, they can take more liberties. ‘Yes, I’m doing a U-turn now. Hey, I did tell you I was a plum!’

I feel similarly about green L- and P-plates, to be honest. If you’re trained properly, you shouldn’t need them. Fresh from examining and training and reading the Highway Code, new drivers ought to know the road rules as well as anyone. Like visiting drivers ought to have read about local road rules more recently than locals.

Perhaps I’m overthinking this. It’s probably a decent idea and only the conscientious, who wouldn’t be a bother in the first instance, will be thoughtful enough to use them.

But I think I will just keep assuming what I typically do: there’s a good chance that this person, regardless of stickers, has no idea what they’re doing.