I am not a big fan of New Year resolutions but this year mine came more out of necessity than fancy – I gave up the car for public transport.

To be honest, the car gave me up! It has gone to the big crusher in the sky after 10 years of loyal service.

It was an emotional farewell. I bought my Citroen Xsara Picasso specifically because the back seats folded down flat, allowing room for my greyhounds, baffling sales assistants at every garage when my only question was “show me how the seats go down”.

Three greyhounds have come and gone with that car. Nellie, my grand old dame, was rushed to the vets in a blind panic in the back after suffering, what sadly turned out to be, a fatal respiratory problem during a walk.

When the lovely Greg from Paul Stenhouse salvage team turned up last week to take the car away, he found me sitting behind the wheel having a moment. He said he was always surprised that women became so attached to their cars. But it is not the car – it is the memories we associate with it.

Which brings me to my New Year’s resolution – to use public transport.

It should be an easy one; after all, the Scottish Government, our local authorities and every health body are urging us to give up our selfish insistence on driving. It is bad for the environment, bad for our health and quite frankly it is unsociable.

Of course, they do not live in Haddington!

My first experience of relying on public transport was over Christmas. I headed west on December 27 to see my family, having arranged for my fabulous dogwalker to take my ‘boys’ out at lunchtime, as I expected this to be an all-day adventure.

Arriving at the bus stop, I was concerned to find no timetable or information about any services, so I walked to the next one, where a helpful lady, already waiting, assured me I could catch a bus to Edinburgh.

It duly turned up and I spent the best part of an hour meandering my way to the Capital. It took me two and a half hours to get to Bothwell – a drive of one hour and 10 minutes.

The journey back took three and a half hours. I arrived at Waverley station, could see the bus I needed across the road, but could not cross Princes Street in time to catch it and waited an hour for the next one.

Last week, I tried to get to Prestonpans Community Council, a 12-minute drive from Haddington.

I googled fanatically and was thrilled to see the X104 left Haddington at eight minutes past six, arriving in Tranent a good 15 minutes before the 26 I needed to get to the Pans only three minutes late for my meeting.

I left my house in a blizzard, walked to the bus stop on High Street for 6pm and waited. . . and waited.

At 6.30pm the X104 arrived. I asked the driver whether he would be able to get me to Tranent for my connection. He pulled out a timetable and admitted it was unlikely.

When I commented that the Lothian Buses website said he was due at eight minutes past, he said he was a 6.15pm service.

I then asked, for future reference, whether I should get a day ticket, a night ticket or day and night pass for this journey, as it was not clear on the website.

“We don’t do night tickets,” the driver said. “But they are on your website,” I responded.

At which point, he said: “We are Lothian Country Buses, we are a different company, not Lothian Buses.” “So why are you on their website?” I asked. In response, he pointed at the motiff on his jumper which did indeed say Lothian Country Buses, as proof he did in fact work for a different company.

Frustrated, I stepped off and gave up on getting to the Pans.

It begs the question, given that we are being encouraged to use public transport, why is it so difficult to get from Haddington to most of the coastal towns?

Why is it so difficult to get from Haddington to anywhere? This is the capital of East Lothian and yet it is isolated from the coast, treated shabbily by the bus services and extremely difficult to leave.

I am now saving my pennies to replace my car – another New Year resolution ruined.