Fed up with being at the mercy of Dublin's traffic mess? Listen to what Patricia Weston has to say about the joys of scooterdom
A year ago I was faced with a dilemma. The problem was how to commute from one end of Dublin city to the other during rush hour to attend evening classes. Buy a scooter, a helpful friend suggested.
I laughed at the idea. Wasn't it ludicrous? I could walk or get the bus. But the more I thought about it, the more appealing it became.
As the time came closer to begin attending lectures four evenings a week - and my day job was becoming more demanding - the thought of rushing out after work in the wet and cold evenings to catch (or, realistically, wait for) a bus was less and less appealing. The scooter notion began to take root, and research commenced.
I discovered that, before I could drive on the open road, I'd have to take the Driver Theory Test (DTT) . . . 40 questions on the rules of the road at the DTT centre, using touch-screen technology. Having passed that, I could then apply for a provisional licence. The authorities seemed to slip up in issuing my provisional licence, marking me down to drive a car, a moped, a motorbike over 125 cc and a works vehicle.
Armed with tax, insurance, my versatile licence and a near-total inability to drive, I went with a friend in search of a scooter. He was experienced and blasé, used to traffic and the vicissitudes of scooterdom. He knew a trusted mechanic who would sell at a good price and offer honest servicing thereafter.
Nothing could go wrong. This would come in very handy for someone as inexperienced as myself. I barely knew how to turn on the indicator, never mind figure out what was wrong with it if it broke down.
My mother always said that, whenever you ran into trouble with a mysterious machine such as a car, you should "get a man".
At the garage I picked out the scooter I wanted. It was a lovely light blue, 49cc MBK two-stroke complete with helmet, gloves and chain lock. It was brand-new, and the garage would do my first two services free.
I was so enamoured of my shiny, new, blue accessory that I almost forgot I had to learn to drive it. My friend suggested we drive back through town - he would lead the way and I could follow behind.
I was terrified but decided to go for it. The garage owner showed me how to start the engine, turn on the lights, switch on the indicator and use the brakes. Following his instructions, I set off. I didn't even know how to change lanes or whether I would be in the right lane if I did. I tried to follow my friend's every move - when he indicated I indicated, when he stopped I stopped.
Terrified and trembling like a pathetic puppy as we neared my city centre apartment off O'Connell Street, I thought it was all over for now. But the ride didn't stop there. On and on until we reached my evening-class destination on South Circular Road - what felt like a journey of 500 white-knuckle miles.
Adrenalin was surging through me. I didn't know whether to throttle him or thank him. "Sure, that journey'll be no bother to you now in future," he quipped. It was a case of when you fall off a horse jump back on. It was the most exhilarating driving test I'd ever experienced.
Nowadays I scoot around the city weaving in and out of traffic like a professional and I'm bursting with confidence. The vast crater-like potholes that decorate our Dublin streets can be a danger to unsuspecting scooter drivers though.
You have to be familiar with your route so you can avoid these trenches and the Luas line construction exacerbates the situation. Then there are the taxi-drivers who try to race you when you can only go at a maximum speed of 30 mph!
There are also the crafty couriers to watch out for as they deftly weave in and out of the traffic and drive onto the footpath! And then there are fumes to contend with, it's especially choking if you're stuck behind the back of a bus breathing in the fumes from the exhaust. The rain and freezing cold don't encourage you to get out of bed and pile on the layers to jump on the bike.
And the wind blowing you all over the road can be dangerous, especially if you're stopped at a junction where there's no shelter from buildings.
It may be small with an engine no bigger than a hairdryer but with all the complaints it gets me where I want to go and I get to gloat at the jealous drivers in their cars stalled in traffic jams. I can leave work and whiz off confident that I'll get there on time regardless of rush hour traffic jams or roadworks.
Shopping, errands, parking? Positively a joy.