In the months following the July 7 terror attacks on London's public transport system, the city began to resemble a city preparing not for the Olympics but for Wacky Races. The stream of cyclists puffing their way through the capital were joined by an odd procession of rollerbladers, skaters and dizzy scooter virgins. As one seasoned biker friend put it: "the bomb-dodgers have arrived."
I found my dodge that August at a car-boot sale. A classic 1982 Vespa that couldn't help but divide opinion - strangely enough, after everyone came to the same conclusion.
"It's, um ... pink."
Two years was enough. But the Vespa is well named - once you're stung by the wasp, you'll never forget it.
So it was, after a few months fending off withdrawal symptoms, that I volunteered to test drive the Powascooter PS168, a bike that aims to become the Vespa of the 21st century - with an altogether softer sting in the tail. For the PS is an electric scooter.
The concept is simple. Charge the bike for four hours on a standard mains point, via its portable adapter, and you've put 30-40km "in the tank." Each 50km will add just the equivalent of a few cents to your electricity bill, which gives you 1,000km of emissions - free motoring for just a few bucks. And with no internal combustion engine, you can bank on fewer pit stops and running repairs.
There are already 30,000 Powascooters on Britain's roads - and they're up and running on national grids from Iceland to Australia. But the chances are you've never noticed one. Because this is an almost silent bike. Turn the ignition key, twist the throttle and you're away. There's no clunking kick-start, no throaty misfiring on chilly mornings. If the 1500w motor emits anything, it's the slight whoosh of a milk float. Out on the road, this can make for an almost eerie experience. Pull away from a junction and watch the heads on the pavement turn. No noise, they're thinking. How is it moving? While the tranquility heightens your awareness of the surrounding traffic, the smoothness is, at times, so soporific I almost dozed off.
The PS is as easy on the eye as it is on the environment (and the electricity). The slightly dropped handlebars and deep-drum speedometer and rev counter crown a smart front end, while the chrome fittings and yellow dials add a handsome gloss to the metallic bodywork.
But this strong, smart bike is not without its teething problems. Flat dwellers whose extension lead won't stretch a story or two will have to get to work early for that parking space beside a plug point. The charger adds a mini-backpack of its own to your day bag, and while the acceleration is impressive - with pincer-sharp braking to match - I could never quite wring out of it the 50kph top speed.
So, an early model with a degree of waking up to do. But the promise of the PS hit home one evening in north London's Camden Town. Buffeted by 4x4s and screaming people carriers, I pulled up at the lights and watched the heads turn outside the Grand Union bar. These days, even in Britain's more self-conscious postcodes, it's not just what you're driving but what you're not driving that counts.
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