TWO WHEELS GOOD
Urban mobility meets fashion credibility with a price tag. Thomas Falkiner rides an icon
Commuting on a scooter is almost worth the risk of helmet hair
ARE you a Rocker or a Mod? Do you prefer beer, black leather and Bo Diddley to amphetamines, the Kinks and basking in the sharpsuited glow of your own narcissism? If your vibe is the former then you’re a Rocker and your weapon of choice is a motorbike. Preferably a café racer. Preferably British.
If you identify with the latter then you’re a Mod, baby, and you’ll want to be seen on nothing but a Vespa: that iconic Italian scooter that’s been buzzing around the world’s streets since 1946 — the one with the interesting story.
At the end of World War 2, after Mussolini had been cut down from the meat hook in the Piazzale Loreto, Italy was in a shambles. The country’s infrastructure had been bombed to smithereens, the roads were a mess. This made it difficult for the masses to get around. Not ideal when you are trying to rebuild an economy.
Luckily a man named Enrico Piaggio had an idea. With his aircraft factory blown to pieces (it had been producing bombers for the fascist military machine), this Italian businessman decided to create an inexpensive form of transport suitable for men and women. It needed to carry a passenger and, most importantly, do so without getting anyone’s clothes dirty.
Aeronautical engineer Corradino D’Ascanio was given the task of designing said vehicle and what he came up with is the scooter we know today — the Vespa. Which is the Italian word for wasp: an insect that Piaggio thought it resembled.
And so the cleverly packaged stepthrough two-wheeler swarmed from the get-go. Immensely popular in Italy it soon spread to foreign shores where subcultures like the Mods made them their own in the 1960s. In fact every generation since then has fallen for the Vespa’s charms. Which is why even today, 70 years later, it remains on sale and popular.
Want in on the action? Well then you’re probably best looking at the entry-level Primavera 150 3V I rode around Joburg for two weeks. Now in case you don’t know I’m a total newb when it comes to motorcycles. I have no prior experience at all. Despite this I was out and carving through traffic after a few short practice rides around the local Vespa dealership in Melrose Arch. Once you find your balance and get accustomed to the controls there’s nothing to it. The best part is that you don’t have to deal with gears like you do on regular motorbikes. Being equipped with one of those continuously variable transmission gearboxes that suck on cars, but make sense on bikes, means that you concentrate solely on accelerating and braking.
Is it fast? Well with 154cc packed beneath your derrière the Primavera is no Yamaha R1. It scoots to 60km/h pretty quickly but then starts running out of puff. With my chin brushing the speedometer on a windless night I maxed it out at 110km/h. Merging with highway traffic scared the bejesus out of me.
If you find this off-putting, don’t let it be. Speed is not what this Vespa is about. It exists to leapfrog the deluge of urban traffic and it does this admirably. Once you pluck up the courage to lane-split you’ll find that its low weight and compact dimensions make it absolutely unbeatable in the rushhour hell. In a car my route home can take 45 minutes. On the Vespa it was 15. Think about it: that’s 30 minutes that you can now spend staring at Facebook or Instagram or Tinder or whatever other social media application rules your existence.
Parking is another boon. Usually a dinner out in Parkhurst means leaving the car in some dodgy side street followed by a quick mini-marathon power walk to the eating establishment. Here you just ramp up onto the pavement outside, pop your jacket and helmet and gloves into the storage binnacle beneath the seat and stroll right in. It’s a cheat code for life.
Finally there’s the small issue of fuel. The Primavera sips petrol like a bankrupt alcoholic would nurse his last bottle of Scotch. In the two weeks I had it I used just 4.2-litres. Incredible.
Downsides? Well the cubbyhole mechanism felt China Mall cheap, as did some of the fascia plastics. The seating position is a bit cramped if you’re taller than 1.8m, while the headlight high beam seems set to shine far too far ahead of you to really be of much use.
The biggest issue for me, however, is the price. Equipped with the optional ABS brakes this scoot will set you back R99 950. This is a lot of money. Especially since a Honda Elite can do the same job for nearly R80k less. But then I guess the Honda doesn’t have the prestige or the cool factor that the Vespa oozes from every fibre of its monocoque form. You can park one next to a Harley and not feel like you’re losing at life. You cannot do this on the Honda. So if you have got the money to burn and feel like emulating that cool Mod image of Sting in Quadrophenia, then get the Primavera. You won’t be disappointed you did. LS
You can park one next to a Harley and not feel like you’re losing at life