winter wonderland

I'd forgotten how cold it gets in this place in Winter. It was probably around 3 degrees outside when I rode to work this morning; in fact I would guess that would be optimistic. I only started riding a motorcycle last winter and because I was still learning, I was only going as far as the train station and back. The full trips into the City only started in about April, when the days were longer and the weather relatively warmer. I have been loving the freedom of having my own transport, being able to come and go as is convenient to me and not being a slave to train timetables.
This morning, though, I began to seriously consider returning to my old ways of driving just the kilometer or so to the train station instead. It could've been my imagination but I thought the road felt just a tad more slippery this morning than it should have. Could it be the days of black ice are almost upon us? I just don't know if I feel up to facing 25km each way on roads that could turn into a skating rink without warning. It's been pretty tough the last few weeks anyway as it's now always dark on both journeys, to and from work. It has been aggravated by stupidly strong winds and lashing rain, at times; not exactly optimal driving conditions, to say the least.
All credit to my biking gear, though, I can honestly say the cold has not been a problem... except for the hands. I bought thicker gloves a while back but this morning I may as well have been bare handed and by the time I got into town and finally came to a stop at a red light where I could drop my hands down to warm up next to the engine, they were completely numb from the cold. Not fun.
So as much as I don't want to, I think the time may have arrived for me to choose discretion over valor and return to the trains for a while.
Yet another reason for me to hate winter in this place!

I think that's why people go so overboard with Christmas decorations. It can be so bloody miserable here, but the pretty lights and various baubles do go a long way in brightening things up. Even young Cinderella has twigged on this now - yesterday morning she and Hubby took it upon themselves to dig out all our Christmas decorations from their hidey-holes in the attic and haul the whole lot downstairs. She then proceded to find our "Christmas Greats" double CD and enthusiastically took the lead in decorating the tree while singing along to all the Christmas hits that are currently playing non-stop in shopping malls and on radio stations everywhere. I was unfortunately under the influence of some serious painkillers in an attempt to rid myself of a migraine (not induced by coffee this time - where will it end?!) so I had a hard time keeping up. It was like sharing a house with two Tazmanian devils... Hubby even had the hammer and nails out and we are the first house in our cul-de-sac to have icicle-lights strung from our little porch. Not only that, our front door is now also sporting a pretty and festive-looking Christmas wreath.


It's a far cry from last Christmas, where Miss Muffett wanted to cringe at the very thought of anything other than just a Christmas tree, using words like 'kitsch' and such like with a look akin to horror on her face.
Yep, someone has discovered the joys of Christmas spirit.
I wonder if that will extend to helping out with Christmas dinner..?

A Knight in Gleaming Armour

There I was this morning, zooting along on my nice shiny new big motorcycle, laughing as I passed the cars that were stuck in a traffic jam stretching from the city centre all the way out to where I join the motorway, about 18km outside of Dublin. Biking is great - being stuck in traffic is pretty much a thing of the past.

And then something weird happened; I opened the throttle a bit and where the engine should have revved, nothing happened. There was a slight jerk, and then it took again, then another slight jerk and the engine pretty much died. When I initially realised something wasn't right I had moved over to the edge of the road, so when I stopped I wasn't causing an obstruction.

"Waaaah! My bike's broken!!!" was my first reaction.

Because, you see, at first I'd thought I'd done something silly like run out of petrol. There's no petrol gauge on the new bike so it's hard to tell. But I'd checked the tank last night when I got home and I could see what looked like plenty of petrol in there. So surely it couldn't be that?

I had only just stopped and was still turning the key in the ignition when another biker pulled over in front of me to see if I was OK; when I shrugged to indicate I wasn't sure what the problem was, he dismounted from and came over to take a look.
I found myself looking into bewitching blue eyes, and a silky voice with a French accent asked, "Is it gas? Do you have a Reserve switch?"

{gulp!}

It's unreal how quickly an intelligent, educated, 35-year-old wife turns into an airhead blonde in the presence of a hot, leather-clad Frenchman with smoldering baby-blues..!
I pointed in the general direction of somewhere under my seat, he flipped a switch, leaned over and with a masterful flick of the wrist, restarted my bike.

I smiled, embarrassed, with a lame, "It's a new bike..."
He smiled back kindly and suggested I find a petrol station.

moving along swiftly

At first I was afraid - I was petrified,
Kept thinking I could never really learn to ride a bike.
But then I spent all summer long
riding back and forth to work and I grew strong,
and I learned how to move along

I made it through,
I did the deed,
and now it's time for me to move onto a bigger steed.
The little one it was okay
but it's too small for motorways
and so I got myself this beauty, ain't it gorgeous, watcha say..?


Yep, I've graduated!
To a Suzuki GS500.
The final straw was when I was rudely pushed into the yellow line along the motorway not so long ago by a truck. I had no choice - my 125cc bike just didn't have the oomf to get me out of the way any other way and the truck driver was pretty single-minded about wanting to be where I was.

When I first test-drove the new one two weekends ago I thought, "Nothing this much fun could possibly be legal!"
But it is - it's street-legal, and learner-legal, and it seems there is absolutely no reason for me not to have it. I really did need the extra power. Half of my daily commute is on the motorway and I need a top speed of over 100kph to be safe.

But yes, I confess, the throaty growl and zippy acceleration were what actually sold me....
And it's purty, dontcha think?!

I am king of the world!!!

OK, technically, I know that should be Queen of the world but somehow I feel more like a King. You see today I rode my bike all the way into work for the first time.

{{applause and fanfare}}

My license arrived in the mail yesterday (is this the only country in the world where it is safe to send peoples' drivers licenses to them in the mail?) so this morning I dressed in my work clothes, then took them off again and packed them in my rucksack (so I wouldn't forget a shoe or something) donned my biking gear (safety first!) and rang-tang-tang'd my way into town.
In peak hour traffic.
Yay me!
I even rode on the motorway - this is Dublin, after all, what are the chances of the traffic travelling at more than 80km/h at that time of the morning?!
Was I scared? You betcha.
Did I balk at the buses? Maybe a bit.
But eventually I did get tired of sitting in the traffic so I gingerly edged my way out and sneaked forward between the lines of cars, just like a real biker;-)
Hah!
I did it!
By the time I had my bike parked at work I was shaking like a piece of jelly on the dashboard of a car with worn shock absorbers, and there was enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to make me feel invincible. Don't worry - that sensation only hit me after I'd made it to work. While I was in traffic I was nervous as a little mouse!
The other bikers in the office are all terribly excited for me and didn't even complain when I 'stole' their parking space. Suddenly I feel like I'm in a gang, hehehe!
I'm sure in a couple of weeks' time I'll be quite blasé about the commute... but for today I'll simply enjoy the sensation of having overcome fear and conquered the road.

You can't blame me..!

I can be quite mean sometimes, in a subtle and satisfying way.
This morning some itsy-bitsy little blonde chick pushed past me to stand in front of me in the aisle on the train, and proceeded to consume what, up till that point, was performing perfectly well as my space and air. Oh she with her perfect hairdo and cute little button nose.... PFFT!!
So finally two stops before mine, I got a seat... and guess who came and took the seat next to me? Yep, li'll Miss Perfect.
So I couldn't help myself - I waited until she'd just finished opening her magazine and then I stood up so she had to move to let me out.
I know I shouldn't have enjoyed her irritation as much as I did. I'm a nice person... most of the time. Perhaps this week is not one of those times. Irritation levels are up, compassion levels are down.
I blame Eve. If the silly cow hadn't taken a bit of that apple, us women wouldn't have these violent hormones to contend with, would we now?!


~