Scooter school

Public transportation on this island is not very good.  It is not terrible or nonexistent, like Jenn says is the case in Guadeloupe, but it is by no means the metro in Paris.  The reality of having a metro stop never more than a five minutes walk is now a sweet, sweet memory.  In addition, there are Montmartre-sized hills everywhere on Reunion.  Imagine what kind of slope it takes to go from sea level to one kilometer above sea level over the space of 14 kilometers.  Well, this is how it is from St. Pierre to Tampon.  At that point, there is no flattening out; it's completely uphill.  When I go jogging, I can only go along the principle horizontal road in Tampon, or else I feel like a lifetime smoker.  Up, up, up you go.  Up the volcano.  (You know, its the one that erupted 2 weeks ago after being dormant for 150 years :)

So, what the people of Reunion have done to counteract this lack of public transport and to conquer the winding upward hills, is to drive, EVERYWHERE.  You would think you were in Los Angeles.  In addition to the fact that the busses are infrequent and few in numbers, they stop running at 6 p.m. and don't run on Sundays.  What all of this madness gives you is the need for personalized motorized transport.  This is where the scooter comes in.

Gesa bought herself a car last week.  All cars here have manual transmissions, which I don't know how to drive.  No problem, this is something I can learn.  Although this may be only a minor setback, I also don't have any desire to own a car.  And with these  hills, a bicycle is not really practical.  Having determined that I am to go the scooter route, I decided it would be somewhat wise to invest in scooter lessons.

Twice this week, once on foot and once by bus, I have hauled myself out to near Pierrefonds- the Saint-Pierre airport- to take scooter lessons.  The first time I showed up, the owner Georges Hoaraut put me on a bike and I spent the next hour going up and down the piste.  This time, coming straight from the beach, I was wearing my running shorts and gym shoes like a true American tourist.  About halfway through the lesson, one of the other dudes starts talking to me through his helmet- the kind that has a part that covers the whole jawbone- and BTW it muffles everything you say.  Oh boy, was he determined to get his answers.  First he asks me how long I'll be on Reunion and then he asks me why I'm learning to ride a scooter.  I tell him because I'm going to buy one and I need to learn first.  Then he told me that I should be wearing pants.  DUH.  I know this but I came straight from the beach.  So then I'm trying to make small talk with Georges and I tell him that the other dude was making fun of me for wearing shorts.  Georges tells me that the dude just joking around.  Georges says that it is no problem because it's really their pleasure to see my legs.  I tell Georges that he is too old for me.  And then I roll my eyes and realize that I really am still in France.