A Vespa and me, an inner-city moment

Oh yeah baby!

btw... short skirt + Vespa = a lot of leg = judiciously cropped photo

That’s me on the back of a Vespa about to scoot through the streets of Perth with TFB.

You don’t know TFB?

Let me just say that the T stands for The and the F stands for Fabulous.

’nuff said.

We are co-training a course and after today’s sessions we decamped with participants of said sessions for a quiet Sav Blanc (the only kind to have on a Wednesday evening) to the Grosvenor on Hay St.

A surprisingly full bar on a Wednesday night we discovered!

Anyhoo, said Sav Blancs consumed, TFB offered me a lift to the station on the back of her little green Vespa – Gecko.

How could I refuse?

An invitation is issued and turns out... I'm just a girl who can't say no... to a Vespa.

The city is different on the back of a scooter.

It smells different.

Less inside of manky, not cleaned often enough, car… and more… cement dust, exhaust fumes, still night air.

It looks different.

You notice the inside of restaurants, the people on the pavement, the hotels and the parks.

TFB drives me down to City West train station.

I swing my leg over the seat, flashing the control tops of my 50 denier tights, and slide off the helmet.

“You’re a pretty good pillion”, says TFB.


I still got it.

The legacy of a mis-spent youth… well… a boyfriend with a motorbike anyway.

I walk up to the platform feeling good and resolve to buy an apartment in the city… and a lime green Vespa.

Or… maybe a red one.

They go faster… right?

4 Replies to “A Vespa and me, an inner-city moment”

  1. Tracy from Adelaide beware, it seems to me, as I tour the city high in the seat of my 4WD, that these Vespas are schooling-up and are quite erratic in their behaviour.

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