The five power rangers with shiny helmets, covered from head to foot with leather and denim arrive to meet Sol the quietly spoken motorbike trainer. Actually he was not quietly spoken for he was not there. AWOL, we were left with two other cheerful Gambians, one tall good looking lad and the other a cheerful bumpkin of a man given to repeating and embellishing each comment made by the first. Acting, in order to highlight his point, his rubber body became a bush pig, leaping out in front of an intrepid rider - motorbike riding is dangerous.
The handout tells us that we started at 9 on Monday. Difficult as we pitched up a day late and didn’t get there till ten, courtesy of VSO. Day One of motorbike training.
An ambient temperature of 36 degrees it wasn’t long before helmet hair, sun burnt faces and arms appeared as we disrobed leaving paraphernalia on the oil stained garage floor and moving onto garden chairs placed for us in the shade of the roof. From here we tried to hear above the revving of lorries to instructions of bike care given by Laurel and Hardy.
Eventually Sol arrived. Clad only in mechanic’s overalls and with a distinct lack of deodorant or teeth brushing he proceeded to repeat everything we had just been told, whilst conversing with unseen voices on the mobile plugged into his ear. PLANS. (Petrol, lubricant, adjustment, nuts, stopping – see I’ve done my homework) By now it’s lunchtime and we are metal poker bored. Gone are the shaking hands and knees. ‘Just get on with it’ is on my lips as we are told that we would not be riding today. Feeling brave I pointed out that we needed to finish on Friday so, looking resigned, he agreed that he would watch us start the bike and move in turn so he would know where to begin tomorrow.
I got my comeuppance for being bolshie as he pointed at me and directed me to move the bike. The surprise on his face was a delight as I managed to manoeuvre it backwards and place it in the allocated spot. Everything went quiet. Engines were switched off, spanners clanged down as all the mechanics stopped to look. Clearly this is a great spectator sport, watching the newbies fall off. Pete gave a wry smile as for the first time in 30 years I kick started a bike, put it into first gear and moved off without stalling. Yippee.
And that was it. Tomorrow we repeat PLANS and if we are lucky get to ride around some stones. Roll on Monday.
A quick up date........it's now Friday........yer man says to get through deep sand, stand in the seat, look where you want to go, open the throttle and have courage in your heart!
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