Basel, Switzerland BLOG
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The saga of Marlon the Mofa...
Ok, so I had the Mofa sorted.. the chap from Bern was kind enough to deliver it and even find out where we had to go to register it, and he was happy to give me a lift! Great! One small problem was that my Auslanderausweis had not come through yet... this is basically the permit any non-Swiss person needs to live and work in Switzerland, as they are not part of the EU. We weren't sure if the police would want to see it, but as it turns out they did, and wanted to know my address. I had to play dumb and say I left it at home, and we left license plateless.
No problem, my new mate from Bern said, I will register it in my name in Bern, and post you the number plate, easy peasy... Should take a week, tops... well... as Robert Burns so famously said.. 'The best laid plans of mice and men'... well all go wrong basically. First the man from Bern was busy with work and out of town, so he could not get to the local station.
In the meantime, the Mofa, now named 'Marlon', for Marlon Brando and the Wild Bunch, languished in the bicycle room of my apartment house...
Once Mr. Bern had the plate, he tried to post it to me, but stupid me had not put my name on my post box so it was sent back... then he sent it again, this time I was away in Canada and as it was too large, it was held in the post office for a week and then sent back... then he sent it to my work.. for some reason sent back person unknown... finally he re-pacakged it in a smaller envelope and one day I came home and there it was... like Charlie and the Chocolate factory I had my golden ticket! Yaaa hooo
I raced downstairs and to the bicycle room and turned on the light... Marlon was gone! NOOOOO!!! Had someone stole my Mofa? How? The steering column was locked... wasn't it? Before I panicked too much I went through the door and there he sat, on the curb next to the car parking spots... why? Who knows? There were other mofas in the bicycle room, maybe mine was the wrong colour, perhaps I parked outside the lines.. who knows, the Swiss are odd, but nevertheless there it stood, my red Piaggo chariot, ready to be plated and whisk me around Basel.
I affixed the number plate and hopped on to start it up, blub blub, no start... hmmmm... kick again, and again, and again....
Maybe I need to pedal it? Start to pedal.... round and round the parking garage... not really sure what lever to hold... how to start it... finally after 45 minutes it started, and stalled... by this time I was almost sure I was on the brink of a coronary and was drenched in sweat so I gave up.
I collapsed inside and send a txt to Mr. Bern... What was I doing wrong? Was it going to be a work out every time? If so, the Swiss geriatrics are in awesome shape as the Mofa is a favourite conveyance of the senior set.
The next day Mr. Bern rang and took me through the starting procedure, and I decided to try it again that evening. After a 20 minute workout it was running... not very well, but running.
As the Christmas break was approaching, I thought I would find somewhere that serviced Mofas and drop it off while I was back in the UK. With the help of Ulf the magnificent from the office, I found a shop and putted in. He adviced it probably just needed a tune up and quoted 100 CHF, as Ulf has guesstimated 200-300 I was happy and bid farewell to Marlon, and headed back for the tram to the office.
Upon my return in January, I trammed over and collect Marlon and he started first kick... I have to say, it's been great to have my own wheels. Sure I look a little silly on a moped, but who cares? It gets me to hockey, carries beer home and empties to the recycle centre, takes me to work and just today (25th Feb) took me around Basel to take the pictures you see in the Basel Gallery 2.
It even got me to German for lunch with Ulf, where we found out it has a top speed almost 35% more than is legally allowed (fringe benefit of being ex-Swiss post), and it even took me through a motorway tunnel, rather illeagally but still it made it...
A bit ominous was the fact that it barely made it home today as it was very very slow and seemed to really be struggling... I am hoping that was due to the fact that by the time I reached home I had icicles on my helmet and being Italian, Marlon may just not be a fan of the cold and damp.
Fingers crossed for it taking me to the rink tomorrow afternoon to meet my teamate for a ride to our game, but I think it will be fine.
The saga of Marlon the Mofa continues and I am looking forward to the summer to zip around.. :) I will be geuninely sorry to give it up when my contract is done, and I even joked about bringing it back to the UK, riding it through the Alps ala Dumb and Dumber... but then I found out that I may be able to slap it on a train, so it may come home yet. I think it would be a cool thing to give to my kid when they hit 14 or so... heck by then Mods and Mopeds in the UK will be back in style.
Speaking of style, the Swiss have one all their own, Berets for example, are alive and well here with the Senior set... but that and more Swiss oddities are the subject of Page 4, so read on... :)