Leather Gloves Time

Yes, it looks like the good weather's back. I noticed it on the weekend when I realised that it was too warm to wear my regular winter gloves. I was heading out to get some regular maintenance done on the Vespa as I starting to get worried about the scooter's handling.

At first, I thought it was just the wet and frosty roads that was affecting the Vespa's ride but with the recent warmer and drier weather, my theory was immediately thrown out the window. Basically on cornering, the rear wheel can only be described as "slippery" even when its been dry for days on end.

The blame then fell on the rear combo of SIP tubeless rim and previously punctured Heidenau K58 tyre. Various worst case scenarios included cracked rim (not surprising with the Road to Baghdad that's Phoenix Park's Chesterfield Avenue these days) and a botched puncture repair on the tyre. I didn't have a tyre pressure gauge handy (left the one I had at the office desk for some reason...) so, I popped out to the nearest garage. The tyre presure was fine and I was stumped.

My next theory would be the rear shock but considering I've no budget to have that changed to some "decent" Bitubo ones these days (bleeding car needing repairs to the tune of over €500 just last week), I'll settle for some unstable cornering or avoid bends and stay on the straight and narrow. Not too bad when the weather's as good as this. Long may it last...

Winter Riding Gear: Skin Tight Layers Won't Make You Look Like Batman But...

I’ve never given thought to wearing base layers under all my riding gear. I just didn’t see the point. If it started to get cold, I’d snap the quilted lining onto my jacket. If it got colder, I’d add a jumper or a fleece sweater to my riding ensemble. A simple low tech and more importantly, low cost solution.

This of course, was fine until my jacket began to inexplicably shrink over the past year or so. OK, I’d put on a bit of weight, some might even consider it winter fat. But, whatever the reason, I was beginning to lose that extra bit of space that I used to have and wearing my jacket with a jumper was getting a bit uncomfortable. So, it was during these snug and tight-fitting times that I got re-acquainted with base layers via the Christmas sales.

Wanting to avoid succumbing to the evils of the sales, I was reluctant to get myself anything but my wife managed to convince me that the Canterbury Base Layer Tee is exactly what I needed. She argued that even if I didn’t want it for riding on my scooter, I’d surely need it when the snow eventually comes along again. Those cold, long waits at bus stops would certainly be more comfortable.

Having been bombarded with such a sales pitch (my wife must’ve earned some commission from Champion Sports), I caved in and bought the thing.

At home, not wanting to be laughed at by my own wife and kids, I tried on the base layer in the privacy of my bedroom. I didn’t actually look like Bryan Habana but, I was still pleasantly surprised by the look and feel of the thing. Now I know why Spanx is so popular with the ladies. I ran downstairs to join the family.

Look, look here. Does Daddy look like Batman...?

I said to my 4 year old son while flexing my mostly non-visible muscles in front of him, for added effect. He took an uninterested peek and continued munching on his Coco Rocks. Obviously, I had put the kid in a terrible position. It must’ve been such a dilemma for him. Does he tell the truth and hurt his father’s feelings or should he actually tell a lie which he knows he shouldn’t. Without looking away from his bowl of cereal he went with the former.

No! You don’t look like Batman. You’ve got a tummy and Batman doesn’t have a tummy.

Kids these days. I blame Christian Bale and his ninja-esque, new age Batman. The bar was lower when Adam West was Batman. Fathers could still convince their sons that they were the Caped Crusader himself those days. Damn you Christian Bale.

Anyway, setback with son aside, I was still pleased with my purchase. I’ve managed to feel comfortable on even the coldest days while gaining a bit of freedom with less bulk on my upper body (having no need to wear a jumper or fleece to keep warm).

So, if you’re in the market for a base layer to keep yourself warm on those cold winter days, this should do the job. If you’re looking to impersonate Batman, a costume shop near you might be a better bet.

Sub-Zero Scootering

The Yahoo Weather thingamajig read minus 1. It definitely didn't feel like it. Having gone through a couple of weeks of sub-zero weather, I think I should  know what minus 1 felt like. I quickly came to the conclusion that the weather dudes at Yahoo were wrong and I was going to go ahead with my plan.

The plan (if you could call it that) was easy: ditch Dublin Bus and get back on my Vespa. I had thought about getting back on the Vespa for a while. The main roads were all clear of ice and snow while the city centre had been a snow-free zone for days now. The only thing that held me back was the ice and snow that was still a permanent fixture on the roads around my housing estate. Most of that melted away over the weekend. Being the of the risk averse variety, I gave it another day to thaw out a bit more and this morning, I found myself kick-starting my Vespa.

Surprisingly, the scooter came to life on the first kick. Maybe, it too was eager to get out and about after being locked-up in a shed for over two weeks. I looked around me and there were still patches of ice and compacted snow but fortunately, none of them were unavoidable. I let the engine run for a bit longer and then, I was off...

Halfway out my estate, I was beginning to have second thoughts. There was still a touch of frost covering the road which wasn't helped by the fact that the Vespa's tyres were probably still half-forzen. I went down a gear and moved on slowly. I constantly assured myself that all I needed to do was to get myself to the main roads and all would be fine.

All did turn out to be fine and I made it to work in one piece and on time.

After the Snow

The people in the tropics have been blatantly lied to. Well, at least I know of a good few people (yours truly included) who have this image of a perfectly fluffy, snow-covered winter where we all sat indoors by the fireplace and sipped hot caramel macchiato watching snowflakes gently fall to the earth. I blame Hollywood. The reality of it is, after the snow is gone, it looks like this...

That feel-good feeling that comes with snow’s first appearance only lasts for about two days (a week at most). Over a few nights, that fluffy and soft snow turns into compacted ice that’s as hard as concrete and is so slippery, one might as well ditch the ski boots, wellies, magic shoe socks, etc. and put on some skis.

It took me almost 10 minutes to climb up this slope this morning whereas normally, it would have taken me half a minute. Stepping on icy footpaths or anywhere there was ice on the road would have been lethal. I had this image repeated in my mind where I took a wrong step and fell, hitting my head on the kerb, cracking my skull open with my brains oozing out like grey egg yolk. So, I treaded carefully on the thin strips of visible tarmac that were left behind by cars over the past few days. The fact that one might come along and accidentally hit me from behind was completely ignored. The fear of oozing brains was all it took for me to stay the course and stay on the road, car or no car.

As I sat on the bus this morning, I contemplated whether it was time to get back on the Vespa. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, flashing images of oozing brains started to re-appear and any thought of getting even close to my Vespa was quickly brushed aside.

About an hour or so later, I was in the city centre. I thanked the driver as I stepped out of the bus and as I turned around to cross the street behind me, there it was – a rider sitting smugly on his cream coloured Vespa PX whizzing past me as if he was riding on the coastal roads of the Italian Riviera whereas I was the fool that was stuck in some sort of personal Arctic dimension, complete with cartoonish hovering grey cloud above me. It didn’t make sense but after seeing that, the flashing images of oozing brains slowly melted away...

Winter Wonderland

Walking has its advantages. Other than the obvious ones like getting yours truly some much needed exercise, the slower pace does allow me the time to appreciate the finer details of what lies around me even more. Being from tropical Malaysia, snow still has this magical hold on me. That magical feeling slowly diminishes though with every harsh winter that passes. The slush and extra slippery ice don't actually help.


What does help are scenes like this which I took while walking to work a few days ago...

St. Stephen's Green

The picture was taken on my Nokia mobile and doesn't actually do the scenery justice but hopefully, it would give you a good idea. Simply magical.

Trains, Planes and (Skidding) Automobiles

I woke up that morning thinking the worst was over. I got myself a shower, grabbed some breakfast and headed out the door. My aim was to get to the bus stop by 7.30 for a chance of getting in the office door by 9. Normally, I'd allow for more time but because of the weather, I gathered that there would be less traffic on the road. I was right to an extent but I didn't take into account that traffic was going to be much, much slower in this weather.

The bus finally got to Baggot Street a half an hour later and I was greeted by a blizzard that made the 5 minute walk to work feel like a whole hour.

I made it to the office safely enough and as soon as I cleared the snow off my coat, I was out again. This time, in my boss' car, a rear-wheel drive BMW. Great in the dry, desperately useless on snow and ice. I mentioned this to him but he was determined that we got out to the client's place out in Citywest (a mere 10 miles away from Dublin's city centre).

I got in the car and brought along my coat and gloves. My boss had a quick look at what I was carrying with me.

We don't need all that.

I smiled politely and replied.

Insurance.

He didn't return the smile.

The journey out was fine but the journey back was an adventure of The Day After Tomorrow proportions. The car skidded like mad on the icy roads back into Dublin and to top it all off, we narrowly missed a skidding/swerving double-decker bus.

Miraculously, we made it back to the office in one piece. At that stage, I lost any desire of sticking it out at work. I grabbed my laptop and whatever else I needed and was out of the office at just after 3 that afternoon. Of course, Dublin Bus was no longer in service at that stage so, it meant that I, along with a thousands of others who desperately needed to get home that evening had to fight it out for a spot on the already crammed commuter trains.

At least, I had the option of the train. Others didn't and had to either book a hotel room or walk the whole way home.

Thankfully, I made it home. Home, warm, sweet home.

 

Winter Riding Gear

The car's on board computer flashed up with a warning as soon as I turned the ignition that cold Sunday morning. Risk of Ice, it read.

No shit, Sherlock.

Yes, there was ice alright as well as over an inch of snow which magically appeared overnight. Nothing too severe even by UK and Ireland standards but, this is Dublin. A bit of ice and snow and the place plunges into absolute chaos. Schools get closed, people fall flat on their faces on icy footpaths, car drivers pretend that their on the set of Tokyo Drift  and worst of all, I get to go on the bus, once again. Shock. Horror. [Cue music to the Psycho Shower Scene].


You see, as much as I do love riding on my Vespa, I do realise that I have responsibilities, and commitments but most importantly, I do realise that I can't afford Evel Knievel-level insurance cover. So, like most sane people, I opt for other alternative forms of transport.


But, what if there is no snow? How do I manage to continue riding my Vespa in almost freezing winter conditions.

Well, different people have different ways of coping. I know of this one old dude who refuses to wear anything more than his leather jacket and an open face helmet even in the coldest of days. No goggles and certainly no visor. Every time I come across him on his classic Jap bike, I could swear that his face looks bluer by the day.

I, on the other hand, prefer to keep myself warmer as it gets colder. Most of my gear can be classified as “all-weather”. My helmet is of the flip-up variety so it’s a full face when it needs to be and an open face when I prefer the wind in my face. All I need to do with my trusty old jacket is to insert the quilted lining when it gets colder while the Vespa’s leg shields appear to be adequate enough cover from the elements, saving me the hassle of fiddling around with my motorcycle pants’ lining.

That therefore, leaves me with my gloves. As much as I try to find an all-weather glove, I just can’t seem to find a decent one. So, I am resigned to the fact that I have to own at least two gloves. The ones I use in the colder months are Dainese’s RS WD D-Dry B (that’s mouthful of alphabets) gloves. They were classified as winter gloves on Motocard’s online store but I have the feeling that the classification is slightly off the mark as it’s probably based on the Spanish winter rather than temperatures further up north.


Having said that, I have now used the gloves for almost three winters and the almost daily usage has taken its toll on it. So, the search is now on for replacement gloves. Moving away from Dainese, I came across FC Moto Shop that has the Alpinestars Arctic Drystar gloves for sale at a reasonable enough price while from farther afield, I found these deerskin gloves from Lee Parks Designs. Other than the good design, I also like the plain, non-Power Ranger look of them.


But, as usual, all that will have to wait (damn this recession). For the meantime, I’ll make do with bright red, freezing and throbbing hands. Nothing that a hot cup of coffee couldn't cure...

Of Rain, Snow and Rainbows

Monday morning. Wet, cold and foggy with a touch of frost. Perfect. Although we were officially into the winter months since the start of the month, when the clocks moved back an hour, this morning seemed like the real changeover date. All that was missing was some snow. I need not worry about that though. If latest news reports are to be believed, that should come along pretty soon too.

As long as it doesn't ruin my travel plans in December, I'd be happy.

Anyway, I eventually made it to work, safe and sound. After drying mysef and a couple of hours worth of work, I remembered that I had left my gloves in my Vespa's toolbox. It wasn't a good idea to leave it there, all damp and cold so, I popped down to grab it.

As I stepped out the front door of my office, I noticed something peculiar in the sky...

...a rainbow! OK, I'm not 6 anymore and don't go chasing after pots of gold but, if there was one of thing that would put a smile on people's faces on such a dreary day, it would be something like this. More of the same, please...

The Old and the New

Vespa PX and LXV. Old and New

Two scooters in the same car park? Now, all we need are a few more scooters and hey presto! we've got ourselves a scooter club. Hah!

Having looked at the LXV more closely over the past few days, I have come to the conclusion that I actually like the thing, for my wife or daughter. Vespa's V (vintage) series have always come across as type of poseur-ish Vespa but you have to admit, they did put some thought and effort into the thing. In the end, I think I'll always like a scooter as long as its made by the same crowd at Pontodera. Seriously, even the fugly ET2 and ET4 is starting to look nice (after a few much needed modifications) these days.

Anyway, this time last week, I was absolutely convinced that Old Man Winter was making an early appearance this year. I rooted around the house for the padded lining to my jacket and had my winter gloves at the ready in my Vespa's glovebox.

Well, as I write this, I have found no need for either of them this week. And, if the weather stays this good, I might actually decide to call the barbeque back into action this weekend. OK, I've ruined it now haven't I? There will probably be snow and hurricane-type weather as soon as I click on the Publish Post button...

Fridays in the rain

Fridays are great. By around lunch time, I'm bound to get that weekend buzz unless I'm up to my eyes with work. That hasn't seem to be a problem these days. One of the perks of the recession, I suppose. And of course, I'm constantly reminded that it's close to the weekend by the now resident idiot of the week who just loves to cause a nuisance of himself/herself by blocking off the motorcycle spot. Nice one.

Anyway, Fridays are also the one assigned casual day at work. Not a big deal really but it does mean I'd get to freely mingle with the general population without people being able to tell from a mile away what my I do for a living. With that freedom available, I'd normally want to make flying visits all over the city centre for various reasons.


The only problem with that is the weather in Ireland. Well, more specifically, the rain. You see, riding around on the scooter has its benefits but as one might have guessed, it has its disadvantages as well. So, to mitigate the ever-present risk of getting wet I'd seldom leave my armoured, waterproof trousers behind. The trousers are great really but sometimes, just sometimes I wish I don't need to walk down Grafton Street looking like Space Cop Gaban.


OK, I shouldn't be too shallow. After all, safety should be my main priority but still, there must be some way where I can have the best of both worlds?


Well, if it's any help to anyone out there facing the same dilemma as I'm in at the moment, there might be some sort of solution. Theoretically, that is. First off, in the form as protection, one can make do without the bulky armoured trousers and go with Knox's Flex Lite knee guards instead. Admittedly, you're not as protected as you'd be in proper trousers but I'd say they'd be great for short trips around the city centre where there's no chance your speedo would be going above 40-50km/h anyway. The other good thing about these knee guards is that they could be used in warm and humid places like Malaysia and India as a cheaper alternative to full-blown armoured trousers. As one might gather, the trousers can get really uncomfortable in hot/humid conditions as well as cost a fortune for people over there. Better something rather than nothing, eh?


Right, that's that angle covered but I'm still exposed to the weather and whatever it decides to drop on me? For that, I have one solution that will get a resounding Nooooooo! from most scooterists out there. Yes, Tucano Urbano's TermoScud could be the solution especially if you don't mind looking like a fat pregnant woman on a wheelchair. Nothing wrong with looking like a fat pregnant woman, I'd just prefer not to look like one, if that's OK.


But then, Tucano Urbano's Italian and the Italians normally know what they're doing when it comes to looking good. So, how can this be? What sort of dark arts have convinced normally good-looking Italians too look like bloated women while on their scooters?


Seemingly, not much. From what I can gather, the onus for scooterists in Italy (and much of the Continent) is to look good as soon as one steps off one's vehicle of choice. It doesn't matter how awful one looks like while on it. It's the complete opposite with the attitude of scooter enthusiasts around these parts but at least, I now understand why products like this actually exist and amazingly, sell quite well. Beats looking like Japanese alien exterminator walking down Grafton Street.


For the record, I haven't actually bought myself both products but as soon as I get the chance, I definitely will.


PS: I've just been made aware that there's a problem with leaving comments on this blog. Apologies to anyone trying to leave a few words here for the past few months. I've tried to correct this to the best of my abilities. Hopefully, it' all OK now and we can finally start some two-way communication going here...

Typical. So very typical

We had brilliant sunshine over the weekend. It was probably well above 25 degrees. A heat wave by local standards. That's not very typical though. So, after crossing-off a good number of items on my ever-growing To Do list, I reminded myself that my good old Vespa was in need of a wash and you couldn't dream of a better day to do it.

It's not that I clean my Vespa out of vanity or anything. I get it cleaned (once in a while) mainly for practical reasons. Yes, I don't use de-mineralised pure water or something like that to clean my scooter. The aim is merely to avoid kids being able to write Help!Clean Me in the dirt-covered surface of the Vespa, that's all.

If I can avoid that, I'm a happy man. Well, that and if I could rid the Vespa of some troubling grit. A combination of grease and grit had stuck to the frame like glue and I was starting to get worried of the long-term damage it might cause to the steel of my workhorse. Oxidised metal a.k.a. rust comes to mind.

I gave it a good scrub a few months ago, right after the last signs of ice and snow but for some reason, there was still some annoying grit stuck on the scooter. There was no other way to get this horrible combination off my Vespa but to invest the princely sum of €2 on the good old jet spray.

The jet spray did wonders to the chrome and paint job along with revealing some new scratches that had previously been hidden away under all the dirt. As soon as I wiped the Vespa dry, I went off exploring in my garden shed to look for a can of some leftover paint from a few years ago. Some yoga-type maneuvers and a toothpick later, I was finished. A good spin around the estate made sure the scooter was blown dry.

The Green Vespa was errr...Green again, clean and above all, grit free.

But not for long though. Monday came around too quickly (as always) and along with it came the rain as some sort of heavenly pay back for the good few days that we've had recently. Typical.

After a half an hour ride back from work, the Green Vespa was once again a shade of brownish dirt green. Dammit. Ah well, it looked good while it lasted...

And down came the rain

It was around this time of the year, eight years ago that my father-in-law made his one and only trip (to date) to visit his daughter and I in Dublin. My wife and I had just been married a couple of months beforehand so, it was quite obvious to me that the visit wasn’t just a normal, I’m just dropping by visit.

Being a father myself these days, I completely understood. Surely, he had the right to know how his daughter was doing after moving in with me – basically a complete stranger, 5,000 miles away from home.

If I recall correctly, my father-in-law arrived late in the evening. He was on a business trip to London and seeing that Dublin was only a 45-minute flight away, popped over to check on us kids right after all his meetings. We woke up the following morning to a gloriously sunny day and got ready to take a walk around town.

I instinctively grabbed an umbrella just as we were about to leave the flat. My father-in-law, who was a man that doesn’t usually say much, looked at me curiously.

I don’t think we need that.

He pointed at the umbrella and was more than likely referring to the brilliant mid-morning sun. I could sense that he was being polite. To me, he might as well have said.

You nerd. Who needs a brolly in this weather?!

But, before I could say a word, my wife jumped in like my very own knight in shiny armour.

Oh, we’ll definitely need it. You’ll see Ayah...you’ll see...

Complete with John Locke-it’s-going-to-rain-all-knowing-look. My wife’s father just smiled and we were on our way.

Fine. The nerd can bring along his brolly.

There’s a saying around here and it goes like this: Ireland would’ve been a great country. If only it had a roof. So, true to form, it rained cats and dogs just around mid-day that day. My father-in-law, being the gent that he is acknowledged that both my wife and I were right.

The morale of the story is, when in Ireland, be prepared or you will be soaked to the bone. Unfortunately for me, that lesson didn’t stick in my head. I don’t think I can be blamed though especially since we’ve had the best summer as far as I can remember. A whole month or so of just sun, sun and more sun.

Yes, I was soaking wet when I got home last Friday and then again on Monday. That’s twice in the space of only four days. I didn’t bother bringing along my wet gear with me over the past month. It’s now properly packed in my Vespa’s toolbox, ready for everyday use.

And to think I was actually thinking of changing my rain-friendly Heidenau K58s to some nice semi-slick ones only a few days ago.

So, summer’s definitely over. It was definitely good while it lasted though. One whole month of blue sky sunshine (it did rain but only in the middle of the night) as payback for a dreadfully cold winter. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.



   

Mallorca near Magheramore?

28 degrees Celcius. That's a temperature you just don't get too often around these parts. So, what does one do to celebrate such warmth?

Why, head down to the nearest (decent) beach for the day of course!

OK, we didn't actually get on the Lear (which just happened to be parked in my back garden, beside my Vespa) and fly down to Spain, we just stuffed everything into the Peugeot, mobilised the army eh, I mean family and headed south down the M50.

A colleague at work who lives around the area recommended Magheramore which is seemingly a surfer's haven and a bit more off the beaten track but I opted for the safer, more touristy option, Brittas Bay.

Brittas Bay is about an hour's drive from Dublin, if you don't switch your brain off and blindly follow your pal who in turn, is blindly following his prat nav (damn little things!). Getting lost and ending up at the back of people's farms aside, we still managed to get there early enough to be the first on the beach!

It also meant that I managed to scout out routes to Brittas Bay if ever the urge came around to pop down there on the good ol' Vespa. It'd definitely make a good run any good weekend.

A good swim in the sea (in still freezing and I mean freezing waters), a few Nasi Lemak plus Tandoori Chicken and a decent enough tan later, we left for home. An absolutely exhausting but brilliant day out.

Eyjafjallajökull: How's that for a post title?

It looked like a good start to the weekend. Well at least it was from where I was looking on Friday. My job required that I attended a conference over in Killenard in Co. Laois. I had been here before in the past two years and everything was pretty much as expected. Other than the Seve Ballesteros-designed golf course (Seve who?), I don’t think the place offered much else outside of the hotel.

I skipped dinner at the place and grabbed a lift off a colleague back to the Big Smoke. My birthday was on the following day so there was no chance I was going to miss celebrating my birthday with the family. Not for a game of golf anyway.

It was about an hour and a half drive from Killenard to Dublin. Not surprisingly, one of the the topics up for discussion was all the havoc caused by Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull. Volcanic ash was blamed for everything from the slight tinge in the otherwise cloudless blue sky we enjoyed on the day to cancelled holidays to increased food prices if the no-fly zone lasts any longer (seemingly 2% of the country’s imports were by air).

Anyway, the volcanic eruption remained a distant threat to me. As much as I was afraid of volcanoes, pyroclastic clouds and molten lava, the volcano in question here was actually a good 1,000 miles or so away from where I was. Other than the odd cancelled meeting and the numerous complaints from friends who had their holidays cancelled, Eyjafjallajökull was basically, out of sight, out of mind.

Until later in the day on Friday, that is. I was driving to a friend’s house on Friday evening when I couldn’t help but notice a strange cloud formation on the horizon. I mentioned this to my wife and then together, we realised that it actually wasn’t some weird cloud formation. For some reason, what we were seeing in front of us was the tall plume of smoke coming from that infamous volcano. It was like the nuclear/atomic mushroom clouds we’d be used to seeing on TV, only much more menacing . The reddish sky highlighted this even more.

The picture here was taken on my mobile so, it’s not actually the greatest. It does, however give an idea of what we saw that evening. Suddenly, 1,000 miles didn’t seem that far!

Volcanic ash and eruptions aside, I still did have a very nice and low-key birthday, thanks to the wife and kids. The home-baked cake was out of this world!

Credit where it's due

I’ve been unfair of late. I’ve been unfair because of my persistent ranting about the weather here in Ireland. It’s not that bad. Really.

I had what I considered to be a good week at work last week. One of those weeks where most things go as planned and even if some didn’t, it worked out for the better. Added to that, I was so psyched-up to get things done most of the work for the week got done by mid-day Wednesday.

After that, I was in cruise control mode and got to enjoy more of the little things around me. One of these little things was enjoying the views and general feel of my journey back from work. Last Friday was the first time in an age that I managed to get off work at 5.15, on the dot.

The advantage of that is that I get to see my surroundings in broad daylight. And, what a difference that makes. So amazed was I with seeing Phoenix Park in such good weather, I stopped my Vespa and relaxed for a while on the side of the road, looking as the traffic went by.

OK, it wasn’t actually t-shirt and shorts type weather (it was probably just above 5 degrees) but it was great to have the sun shining and everything relatively dry. Great. More of the same please!