General – Page 6

February 1, 2006November 19, 2016

Buying a Siambretta

Well, it has been over two years now that I have been here in Argentina and only recently have I decided that it was time to look at getting some form of transport. There are many options here, from the latest models of bikes and cars to antiques that are still used everyday. I wanted a motorbike.

One of the small Honda DAX bikes that are so plentiful here.

Being the sort of person that likes to be different to the next fella, I decided to look for something a little different when I began looking. There was the Honda DAX which is pretty common around here, and I liked its small size too, but for a bike to ride all over the country it just did not seem enough. The main issue for me was that it would be hard to carry my gear with me if I used something like that.

So after looking around a little, there were some serious sized motorbikes too. Old things made in Brazil or some other country but poorly supported in parts. So this did not seem like a great option either. Besides, I was not sure that I wanted something so ordinary in how it looked. This took me further afield in my searching.

The early B version Siambretta for sale for $2500 USD in Buenos Aires.

Every now and then I caught a glimpse of people riding on a motorbike with two seats that looked like bicycle seats. It was a very unusual looking bike, and not seen often, so I did not know what it was. Then one day I was in Buenos Aires with my friends and discovered this very bike in a fancy showroom. It looked pretty much like what I would want, but finding one was not going to be so easy.

The first thing I did was ask my friends to look out for a bike for me. It was Oscar that came back with news on a Siambretta that I could buy from an old guy in the city. It was similar to this first bike that I had seen in the showroom, except older and unfinished. My visit to the guy’s place revealed a graveyard of old bike frames and an old man with an avid interest in fixing and repairing these old bikes. He was the official mechanic for them when they were new and has continued to work on them ever since. This bike however was not the sort of thing that I had in mind, but I learned a lot of valuable information from that meeting.

The Siambretta man that helped me out with lots of information.

The next thing I did was search it out on the web. I had learned that it was a Siambretta, and after a lot of looking, the best website I found was the Lambretta Club of Great Britain. This then led me on a series of studies, which finally took me to read about the TV series 2 bikes. These were by far one of the best of the Siambretta bikes that existed, and with their bigger 175cc motor it was sure it would be fine for some serious travelling.

Now being a religious man, I prayed and asked God to help me find one. I finished that prayer believing that I would not need to look for the bike, but that it would find me. I had seen in my mind a cream Siambretta drive into our property with two helmets.

A Siambretta 125cc for sale but still under repair by the Siambretta man.

It was many days later, near the end of the week that this happened. I had already looked in the papers and asked many people but all to no avail. These bikes were hard to find. Then my friend Oscar came to my window and called me. His behaviour was unusual, as he simply walked away quickly. This was very different to how he normally behaved, so I followed him.

Outside was a cream Siambretta motorbike with blue trim. The man had stopped outside our property to ask directions, and when Oscar saw him, he discovered that it was for sale. The price is agreeable and it is the Series 2, 175cc engine that I was wanting. There is even a helmet thrown in with it. I was amazed, and agreed to buy the bike.

The Siambretta that arrived on my doorstep (slightly darker blues and much more used looking).

Now I am in the middle of the paperwork required for purchasing a motorbike here in Argentina. Apart from the normal precautions of checking for incumbrences and ownership, there are a further 9 processes to go through, adding up to a total of $153 pesos, before it is mine. Today we were able to start the process, but because the official offices are only open to the public in the morning, it will be Monday before we can continue with the rest of it.

So I am hoping that sometime before the end of next week I will be the proud owner of a Siambretta scooter.

February 1, 2006November 19, 2016

Reminders of Where I Am

It has been almost 2 years now that I have been living in Argentina and although life has changed a little from what it was in Australia and New Zealand, it is also very similar in many ways. Sometimes I simply forget where I am.

A friend of mine told of how they try to think of themselves and where they are on the map just to remind themselves of where they really are. Sometimes living in a place seems so normal and yet compared to where we came from it is very different indeed. I find myself in this situation at times.

a family on a motorbike
A complete family traveling on motorbike.

Living here in Argentina there is a lot to compare with home. After all, we have Internet, cell phones, and trucks and cars and bikes. Our bus transport here is better than pretty much anywhere else that I have visited in the world, and most products are available here. They may not be the latest or greatest and you may have to pay a premium price, but they are available.

So there are times when I wander down the street oblivious to where I really am. The clean streets on the newly formed pedestrian mall, lined by large chain stores with big plate glass windows displaying all of their wonderful goods keeps me lulled into thinking that not much has changed between where I was and where I now am.

The Reminders
But then I turn around and see two women dressed in rags, towing in a slow methodical march, a bicycle-wheeled home-made trailer filled with brooms and sporting a small child barely big enough to reach over the top of the two foot sides. They look neither to the left nor the right, but continue forward in their march, exhaustion lining their deeply marked and prematurely aged faces. And I remember where I am.

child in horse and cart
Children looking for paper and rubbish to collect.

Or while traveling on the bus a young child no more than 7 years old climbs aboard and starts handing out little cards with cute messages for lovers. They have no price, only that he would receive a donation if you want to keep them, something that would help to feed him and his many brothers and sisters back at home, wherever that may be. His forlorn face shows the wear of many years working already, even at such a tender age.

Or if I am at an outside restaurant, a small hand reaches up from the side of the table. It belongs to a child even younger still, begging for a coin or two that may be able to buy what he and his family need for the next meal. I can see his older sister working one of the other tables, trying to get around as many as they can before the waiters can “shoo” them away like unwanted animals.

The trucks and cars that pass by, so old and so worn as to hardly be able to keep going. The motorbikes filled up with 2 adults and their 3 children because their parents cannot afford a car. The bicycles that squeak and groan past, ladened with tools and timber, people and parcels, because they are the only transport available. The trucks filled with people in the back tray, trying to get as many as possible in the one journey.

bicycles carrying goods
Riders carrying what they need on their bikes.

These are just some of the reminders. They do not come every day, but they are there to remind me that where I am is very different to where I was. They remind me of the hurt and pain that still exists so strongly in this country, of the unhealed wounds that have found no medicine. They remind me that even though there are many things that are good and getting better in this country, there are many things that must still be addressed and confronted.

They remind me of Argentina, a beautiful country with a terrible past.

truck load of people
A truck loaded with workers heads back home.