Each country has its trademark vehicle. In the Netherlands, it’s bicycles. In the UK it’s Mr Bean’s Leyland Mini. In the US it’s those over-stretched limousines. In Malta it’s the red-and-green vintage trucks with curly yellow scribbles tattooed on the sides, reading ‘Maria Bambina’, ‘Il-Bully’ or ‘Noble Charm’. The symbol of Italy is definitely the scooter.

I bet now that I mentioned it, you have flashing images of Piaggio Vespas at the Fontana di Trevi driven by young men with their shirt collars up and tanned young women with high heels and just-so hair, hooting and shouting “E dai!” to each other. Come to think of it, the scooter is not a symbol of Italy. It is Italy.

I have always been in love with the Vespa. In fact, my very first Sunday Times of Malta column back in 2008 was about my very longing for this. I wrote how I always dreamt of riding a pink Vespa, wearing shorts and scarf and windswept hair.

I wrote how I would whistle Luna Pop as I dashed along the streets. I wrote how when I would park I’d take off my helmet in slow motion, flickering my because-I’m-worth-it long straight hair, which would never know a bad hair day.

Eight long years have passed since. This winter, on the very day I turned 40, I went for my first scooter lesson. I did not register for the 10-hour course thing. I went for the proper full-blown licence – if I was finally doing it, I wanted to do it the proper way.

I spent the first lesson sitting motionless on the scooter, my hands on the handlebars, not budging an inch, except to lift my head up every now and then to reassure the instructor that eventually, I would lift my feet off the ground.

On the second lesson I was zooming round Ta’ Qali at the speed of a snail-in-a-hurry. By the third lesson I had a permanent grin on my face and shouting ‘wheee’ every time I hit 40kph. Then we hit the road.

Mamma Mia. It’s a jungle out there when you’re on two wheels.

There is a solution for better road manners. Issue an edict that you cannot get a car licence unless you get a basic scooter one first

A jungle of cars and road rage and texting car drivers which over the weeks I managed to survive until I got my licence.

It’s definitely been an eye-opener. Scooters are comparatively cheap to buy (you can get a new one for €1,500), parking is easy, the fuel costs very little; the environmental impact is minimal; the road licence fee, now slashed to €10, is cheap; you can weave past cars while motorists can only sit in gridlocked traffic and glare; no more getting stuck in traffic jams in Sliema, Qormi, Marsa or Mosta; you simply shoot from one side to the other of Malta, happy, stress-free. No wonder that the number of motorcycles on the road has skyrocketed, and already, in the first six months of the year, 800 drivers were handed newly introduced scooter certificates.

But not everything is rosy. Firstly, when you take off the helmet your sweaty hair looks like a wig on a riħ isfel day. Lastly, some car drivers are oblivious to bikes, and react with surprise and anger when they almost crash in them. Indeed, Maltese roads can be pretty hairy when you’re all vulnerable with no outer metal shell for protection.

However, there is a solution for better road manners. All we need is a Transport Minister brave enough to issue an edict that you cannot get a car licence unless you get a basic scooter one first.

This would have a dual result: a) once you’re made to sit on a scooter seat, you automatically become hyper-alert about all the scooters on the road; ergo if more car drivers are cautious around scooters, then the roads automatically become safer, and b) I am certain that if people were obliged to get a taste of the scooter, they would not move on to the more cumbersome car, and that would up the number of bikes on the road.

This is not easy, because for the Maltese man, the car is the symbol of independence. Our youngsters rarely move out of the nest before their late 20s, and therefore the ritual of fleeing the nest is symbolised by getting a car (and increasingly these days – in what is a very un-independent move – it’s the parents who buy the children a car).

There is only one way to beat our car obsession. In tandem with harsher road enforcement, the Transport Authority needs to kick off a ‘Don’t Commute, Scoot!’ campaign, based on the fact that scooters will make you popular. Posters need to show happy couples – they don’t even need to be young – doing romantic and exciting things while straddling their ever faithful scooter.

Think Roman Holiday, think Audrey Hepburn riding pillion on Gregory Peck’s Vespa around Rome, think of the sparkle in their eye, and half of Malta would soon be on two wheels. Yes, even ‘Maria Bambina’, ‘Il-Bully’ and ‘Noble Charm’.

It’s a doable solution for traffic, and God knows we need to act fast now that the back-to-school nightmarish traffic is only round the corner.

Meanwhile, if you have a Vespa that you haven’t used in ages and would like to give it a new loving home, please drop me a line.

P.S. It doesn’t have to be pink.

krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti