World Travel Guide Online

Livin’ La Scooter Loca
Milos, Greece

Milos is a sun-soaked gem on the outer edges of the Cyclades group of islands in Greece, and it’s here that I rediscovered the joy of scooters. Coming from Australia, where they’re not as popular as in Europe or Asia, it was a revelation. The last time I was on a scooter, or moped, as some people call them, was in high school and my only recollection is of a leaf flying into my eye at 40km/h and forcing me off the road.

The rental firm was very obliging. With no credit card (left behind by mistake) and no deposit, I had my very own 55cc Yamaha scooter for 10 Euro per day. And what a bargain it turned out to be. It was economical, fun to ride and gave me the freedom to explore almost the whole island at my leisure. With my backpack on I had everything I needed for a whole day’s cruising.

I pitied the sad tourists I saw sitting disconsolately at the bus stops as I whizzed past on my way to adventures unlimited. Sure, it may be slower than a car, but in most cars (except convertibles) there’s no connection to the outdoors. No wind in your hair and sun on your face. There’s not that adrenaline rush as you zoom downhill, eyes darting constantly ahead for signs of potholes or suicidal animals that could spell disaster. No, it’s the devil-may-care, open road life of a scooter rider for me, despite the drawbacks. And there are drawbacks.

Firstly, there’s no way to look cool on a scooter. It’s simply not designed so you can slouch back like Easy Rider, your arms extended in front and above your head and your legs splayed out. On a scooter you perch, in roughly the same position that an aged school mistress would have adopted while riding a vintage bicycle at the turn of the century.

At first you feel silly until you realize that every other rider is in the same boat, and there are lots of them. It’s a bit easier for the ladies. They look cute as a button, but guys don’t want to look cute. They want to look rugged, and ready to cruise down Route 66 into the horizon. It ain’t going to happen on a scooter – accept it and move on.

The best thing to do is to study the veteran riders and see what they do. It was after about the fifth Greek grandmother cruised past me on an underpowered 1950s era model that I opened my eyes and began to take notes.

Step 1
The first thing to do is achieve the Samurai mindset, which comes naturally to the locals. Once you accept that your life has no value and can be snuffed out at any moment, the rest becomes easier and you’re ready for the next stage.

Step 2
Now make sure you’re wearing the barest minimum of clothing. A threadbare t-shirt, a pair of shorts and worn sandals will do. This way, in the event of an unfortunate accident, there’s absolutely nothing to protect you from the coarse gravel of the road, or the cars and trucks hurtling past on the narrow, meandering mountain roads.

Helmets, I hear you ask? Hah! Teenagers and grandparents alike laugh at helmet-wearing sissies, and so did I… but not as loud, and in an envious sort of way since the helmet-wearers were clearly more intelligent.

Step 3
Once you’re aboard your scooter, grasp the throttle with your hand, gun it to full power and never, ever let up until you screech to a stop. This doesn’t just apply to flat roads either. Blind hairpin turns? Full throttle my friend. Forty-five degree downhill slopes where the bitumen is so hot that the individual pebbles have melted into shiny, black tar pools? Ditto. Use your brakes when you reach your destination if you must, but true purists will frown upon even this and be heard to mutter something about ‘…much still to learn.’

Step 4
The final step is to improve upon the basic scooter posture. Lean forward from the waist and adopt a pose like a hood ornament from hell. Your eyes should be squinted against the onrushing wind, pebbles and debris thrown up by passing traffic. Of course you’re not wearing sunglasses because although they’re cool, sensible and offer some protection, you’re trying to look like a local. This means you’re obviously just ducking down the road and there’s no need to hunt down those pesky sunnies.

So now we’ve covered the basics and are ready to hit the road with confidence. But wait, I’m not finished yet, grasshoppa.

One situation that occurs frequently is that traffic behind you becomes fed up with your 50km/h top speed. At the first opportunity, or even if there isn’t one, they overtake you so closely and at such speed that they leave a groove of scorched auto paint on your exposed leg. As you inhale a lung-full of exhaust fumes worse for you than a pack a day habit, the vehicle’s wake sucks your scooter into a mini-vortex and temporarily gives it a mind of its own. Over the last week I’ve experimented with several techniques to deal with this.

First, I tried overcompensating so that the scooter darted into oncoming traffic, but this had obvious drawbacks. Next I adopted the driver-friendly approach of pulling over to let larger vehicles past, but as the sun set on a never-ending stream of automobiles it was back to the drawing board. And then I hit upon it: the Instinctive Method.

As a callous driver warps past leaving you in their jetstream, simply do what comes naturally. Allow the scooter to go wobbling off towards the jagged rocks or sheer precipices at the side of the road. Give the throttle a quick, violent stab in the panic-induced belief that it’s your brake, thus speeding you closer to oblivion. And finally, miraculously regain control at the last possible second by spreading your legs wide and using them as outriggers while your hand clenches the brake (the right one this time) in a death grip. You’ll find yourself back on your way in no time.

I’ve put a lot of effort into developing this technique but in the interests of humanity I pass it on to you asking only that you share it in turn.

Accessories
There are a couple of optional items that all scooter riders should have. They’re not essential, but from what I saw, they’ll increase your enjoyment of scootering exponentially.

The first, and most important, is a girl riding behind you, her arms wrapped loosely round your waist and her skin a lovely honey brown from the sun. “What if I am a girl!?” I hear you cry in indignation. Doesn’t matter! You should still have another girl behind you because hey, what’s better than a girl on a scooter? That’s right, two girls on a scooter.

The other important accessory is something I’ve come up with myself, and it’s only for those that truly wish to follow the way of the Scooter Rider. For this reason it’s a closely-guarded secret so if you have any doubts, stop and read no further.

Still here? Very well, here it is. I call it… the Scooter Salute. This is a sign that you use when you encounter another scooter rider on the highway of life. It acknowledges the other person as part of a sacred brotherhood. It creates a bond of camaraderie – of sunburn and petrol fumes. It makes you one of us.

All you need to do as you pass each other is catch the other rider’s eye momentarily and give the tiniest nod of your head. That’s it! Don’t be put off if some people don’t respond, or if others look at you strangely and check their rear-view mirrors as they speed up to put more distance between you and them. They did this to me all the time and I think they were testing my dedication. Just keep nodding and catching their eyes and you’ll get what you deserve sooner or later.

In the final analysis, you’ll rarely have as much fun with something buzzing between your legs, at least in my experience. Milos was covered in miles of unpaved roads, rocky pathways and mountain goat tracks with ruts a foot deep. Large jagged boulders studded some stretches, and steep inclines were commonplace. Sometimes the drone of my engine encouraged goats to charge me, their bells clanging. They bolted up obviously wanting a turn on the scooter themselves but I had to say no, sometimes beating the sole of my sandal against their head if they were persistent. At other times I’d take a wrong turn and come to a dead end or an abandoned farm or church after traversing miles of terrain. Through it all the scooter was my friend, getting me through country that even a 4WD would baulk at.

Of course, after all that riding it squeaked, rattled and made some other mysterious sounds that it hadn’t when I first took delivery, but the rental place took this in stride when I returned it.

So if you’re ever visiting a Greek island, rent a scooter – you won’t regret it.