Here’s a piece I wrote for the Oxfordshire magazine OX on the new Gozo scooter and my ability – or lack of it – on two wheels, complete with imagery of my prowess.
When I first met The Significant Other, he had an excessively-powerful motorbike in the garage, one in a long line of hot fast red numbers, and matching metalwork in his leg. Within a month, on the very day he was supposed to be meeting my parents in his best suit and most respectable attitude, I had a roadside call from the ambulance summoning me to A&E: the motorbike was no more somewhere on a dual carriageway out west. And that, I thought, was that. We agreed life was too precious to be squandered squashed on tarmac and settled happily into eight wheels, four apiece.
But just recently we have welcomed a new addition to the family – no, not of the human kind before you start sending flowers and rattles. Although it’s two wheeled, it isn’t a sportbike optimised for acceleration and speed for which you must be adorned head…
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