The Motorcycle Diaries

Hey! I'm not dead!

Last night's moto ride through the city threatened to change my status from living to dead, which would have been really a big let-down I think for all involved. Luckily, there was no death, only terrified holding on and thinking to myself at every red light "KEEP YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, WE MADE IT TO ANOTHER LIGHT."

I was mildly concerned with a variety of moto-related things before the actual voyage happened, like where do you put your hands (ie. how do you not grab someone's crotch as you're riding on his moto with him?) and where do you put your bag (ie. shouldn't there be a trunk installed or something equally useful?). Needless to say, there was no crotch grabbing because my hands were as good as nailed to the dashboard with tiny invisible nails made out of fear. The notion of resting your head on someone's shoulder is also impossible (for those of you who spend your nights dreaming of becoming Amelie) because your HEAVY AND CLUMSY HELMET gets in the way. Also, any dreams of seeing Paris by night sort of went out the window when I forgot to put down my face shield and wind scorched my eyeballs all the way up Blvd des Malesherbes.

I can't wait to do it again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

how was your fete de la musique in paris???