The Motorbike Ride from Hell

The inlet opening to the Andaman Sea is Straits Quay

       This past Friday night rolled around and I decided that David needed a way to celebrate the two-day weekend.  (Every other weekend he and all of his colleagues have to work a half-day on Saturday, but not this weekend.)  So I picked him up on the motorbike and whisked him away to Straits Quay, a fancy-dancy shopping center. Actually, they call themselves a "retail marina", which means that they don't have anything as plebian as a supermarket or department store, but they do have lots of eateries and "drinkeries" and a few selected, high-end shops.  It's designed so those who park (dock?  berth?  anchor?) their yachts at the quay can entertain and be entertained. 'Course ordinary folk are allowed in, and the ex-pats of Penang seem to enjoy socializing there.  So, off we went on our farthest-yet outing on the motorbike as a duo, out for a night on the town! 

    Well, wasn't that ill-fated!  We got there OK and went for the "Fiesta Night" at the Kaffa Cafe.  David really liked the food, which was pseudo-Mexican, but I certainly wasn't blown away.  No margaritas because we were on the motorbike.  After eating I hustled us back to the bike because it looked like rain.  Then it did rain!  A lot.  And right on us. (And everybody else, of course!)


    We could have lived with that because everything in Penang is warm, even the rain.  Bu-u-u-t . . . . as we were pulling out for the 10-minute ride home, the bike suddenly began wobbling and being skittish, to say the least.  Uh-oh!  Our first flat tire! And there isn't anything as normal as a gas station out in the area of Straits Quay, believe me!  What to do?  We decided we couldn't just leave the bike there by the side of the road--it certainly wouldn't have been there by morning.  And walking it home would have been impossible, rain or no rain.  So, we rode.  Very slowly and very carefully.

      I rode the entire distance with my feet down, just in case we lost it.  David on the back fretted and stewed until he realized I needed every ounce of silent concentration just to keep us upright and moving forward.  We crawled along in the pouring rain at sunset and at the tail end of rush hour.   People pulled up and told us we had a puncture, as if we needed to be told!  But nobody could help until . . . . .


       Yea!  There was a Shell station on our side of the four-lane divided highway!  We crept in  and a very concerned attendant did his best to put air into the deflated tire.  (Later we learned it was actually a tube problem.)  He managed to get just enough air in that we could continue wobbling down the road toward our motorcycle shop in Pulau Tikus (our little "suburb" of the main city of George Town.  And yes, it is spelled "George Town.")


    Got to the shop a bit before 8:00 and the good news--they were still open.  The bad news--they were going to be closed both Saturday and Sunday for their "holiday."  Bummer!  So we left the bike there and on Monday morning they're going to put a new "sport rim" on the back with a tubeless tire so this won't happen again.  The damage?  RM400, which is about US $133 --exactly the cost of two tickets to the upcoming "Summer Soiree--A Day at the Races" ex-pat social event.  Hmm. . . .which would I rather have, a functioning, safe motorbike or an evening of racetrack-themed socializing over free-flow (all you can drink) wine?    Hmm. . . . .


    Anyway, I can pick up the motorbike tomorrow morning and  I surely won't forget the "ride from hell" (I mean Straits Quay) anytime soon.  Why?  Because all my abdominal muscles ache from the tension of keeping the bike upright during this little fiasco, not to mention the mental stress and strain.  But I'll get back on that bike tomorrow because how else will I make it to the Scrabble Group gathering?