When I was 17, my parents (bless them) bought me a small, slightly beaten up red metro and some driving lessons. I think I got about 4 lessons in before I decided that a) I didn't want to be one of the group of my friends who had passed their driving tests and subsequently took it in turns to stay sober on nights out so that they could drive us all home and b) I didn't really feel at home behind the wheel of a giant hunk of metal with an instructor breathing down my neck. Quite frankly, I don't do anything in public unless I'm fairly assured that I'm already proficient at the task in hand. I hate anything that I'm not imediately brilliant at. When it came down to it, the shame of bunny hopping down the road in front of the driving instructor was just too great to bear... And anyway, I'm from up north. Taxis cost about tuppence there. Whenever I go home now to visit family, I will often take a cab to the end of the road in order to mavel at its cheapness. (I also occasionally go on sunbeds for much the same reason. I can't help it.)
My move to London immediately after I'd finished university put paid to any further attempts to learn how to drive and it must be admitted that I thought I'd probably never bother. I can't imagine myself ever living anywhere but London. I had resigned myself to a life of tube journeys, night buses and overpriced black cabs. And when it isn't tipping with rain, London is a delightful place to stroll around, even if gormless tourists do stop inexplicably in the middle of the pavement without warning (personal bugbear). The only time that a driving license may have come in handy was when my best friend and I were planning a trip to America to drive along the Pacific Coast highway. But I rather liked the idea of being absolved of all driving duty to be honest. I was going to make like the hot one in Thelma and Louise and sit in the passenger seat mainlining whisky...
My former disinterest in aquiring myself a driving license means that it comes as something of a surprize to myself to find that I appear to have spent the best part of two grand on procuring myself a shiny new, sexy-as-fuck vehicle. I have always been ambivalent about cars and driving, but it turns out that I have been chasing the wrong kind of dream. Four wheels bad, two wheels good. Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that I have fallen head over heels for motorbikes.
If vehicles were men, then a car is the solid, safe, dependable gentleman who is going to look after you if something goes wrong. It's an easy ride to your eventual destination. If a car was a man, he would be in it for the long term. The motorbike however would be the 'live fast die young' guitar playin' whisky swillin' dangerous son of a bitch who is only looking for short term thrills and when it ends...it's going to fucking hurt. Clunky analogies aside, I was never down with cars but bikes, it seems, are a whole different story. And quite frankly, it's love.
My first bike was purchased back in November of last year when I had some spare cash floating around. Originally the boy had spotted it on ebay and urged me to buy it. It was a 125cc monkey bike, fixed up to look like a bobber. My only experience of motorbikes thus far had been as a passenger, albeit an enthusiastic one. Our first 'date' (if you can call it that?) basically consisted of him taking me out around north London on the back of his Triumph Bonnerville and us both trying to hold our first sober conversation with each other while roaring around. I love riding on the back of the Bonnerville, it's such a beautiful bike. All boys take note, motorbikes and guitars get you laid.
The monkey bike was closely followed but another ebay purchase, again spotted by the eagle-eyed boy. A 200cc chopper imported from America. The chopper was quickly turned over to the hands of the boy's friend who builds and re-sprays bikes in his spare time. It was finished a couple of days ago and I got to see it on Monday. It appears that I am now in possession of the devil's own method of transport. It looks so fucking mean. I could not love it more. This entire blog was a thinly veiled attempt to post pictures of it. So here you go....
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