I was quite pleased when Maurice from the VSO office told me there was no money in the kitty for a motorbike, what he failed to mention was that the cycle into town is a good half an hour up hill (no gears on the bike remember) on the road equivalent to Briatin's M1! On top of that the three organisations I’m working for are spaced out across town – and some of the target areas where I’m supposed to be doing outreach are a few miles in the opposite direction.
But hey, no one else at work has a motorbike. Some of the volunteer community caregivers are retired professionals and are probably well into their sixties. They walk miles every week to visit their patients at home so a pushbike is a privilege. Anyway at least there’s no chance of me getting too podgy despite the amount of peanut butter and bread I’m eating!
The use of pushbikes here is unbelievable. I went to order a couple of beds for our spare rooms the other day and asked the carpenter if he had means to deliver them. He said he could get them to us for about a quid – I asked how and he said on the back of a bicycle!!! I’ll have to get some photos but people carry charcoal piled at least one storey high, water containers and baskets hang off at all sorts of angles. There are bike taxis that carry up to three passengers on the pannier rack – these bikes have no gears and the drivers look no bigger than Henry at his skinniest I’ve no idea where they get their strength! The funniest but saddest thing I’ve seen is a goat strapped onto the bike rack more than likely on its way to the stew pot. How on earth the rider managed to get it tied on without losing an eye or two I don’t know! There’s also a huge contradiction between rackety old bikes and big shiny, gas guzzling 4 by 4s…you rarely see anything in-between.
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