Vespa + Transit luton van + Driver not looking properly = Surprised Kiwi (who was very grateful for Kevlar body armour) sliding down the Hammersmith Road (Scott)

A wise man once said it's not if you have a motorcycle accident, it's when. To cut a long story short, it was a warm day, good visibility, I was properly attired, the scooter was at it's noisy best. I was passing Blythe Road off Hammersmith Road at a stately 20mph or so (3rd gear at least) when I saw a luton van move forward, looking to turn across my lane to where I had come from. Tense up, hold breath, ready to brake, as a cyclist, everybody is dangerous. See him stop. exhale breath and continue on looking towards the next junction and all the other potential hazards. Next thing I see in the corner of my visor, a van windscreen, then heard a bang, and before I even had a chance to swear, I was on my left hand side sliding down the road with the scooter in front of me, and the unhappy sound of wafer-thin Italian steel crunching and scraping.

It all happened so fast, I'm not sure of the exact order, I didn't see my life flash before my eyes, I just thought this is it. Bloody hell. After what felt an eternity of sliding (approx 5 or 6 feet in actuality) I'm lying in the road not sure of what to do next. Rush of adrenalin. Fuck! I'm lying in the middle of Hammersmith road, alive, seemingly unharmed and now if I don't get up sharpish I'm going to get run over by someone else. So in a quite unusual fit of athleticism, I was up, saw the stalled Vespa on it's side, and hobbled, after checking for cars, to the far kerb. To the pub to be precise. As I was getting up I heard the van driver apologising to me, I even managed to point out that his lack of observance had indeed ruined my day, and a few other words to that effect.

Quick stocktake.
1 x Sore Leg. All moving just felt sprained
1 x Heartbeat running at twice normal speed
1 x Scooter lying in road.
1 x London arterial road stopped in both directions (never happens)
1 x I'm not dead.
1 x big bloody hole in my jacket elbow
1 x pair of water proof trousers ripped and holed
1 x no blood or anything

Off with helmet, and gloves on pub table, and see a couple of people going over to move the scooter out of the road, I was quite shaken up and my phone was inside my jacket, so no pics. It was in gear, and tricky to move if you don't know Vespas, so I hobble off with them to move it to the kerb.

Everything then speeds up again, I can't for the life of me think what happens next. No idea. I double check the van is still there, and sit down. I still can't come to any lucid thoughts, when I worry about me momentarily, and ask if my head hit the ground, for concussion, and it didn't apparently (Big shoulders have some use.) Then insurance pops into my head. This was slightly flawed as I couldn't remember my broker's name. This was pointless as I only had third party. Anyway, I finally got sense and shouted 'Details' at Barry the at-fault van driver. Barry looked at me blankly. I got a pen out of my pocket, and thrust it towards him, then went for my iPhone expecting glass everywhere, but it was all fine, so photographed the van, the location and the scooter. Still shaking. Barry comes back. 'I can't remember my insurance broker's name, it's a new company. Alarm bells go off in my head, and the shock has gone I am back to normal. Brain instantly in gear. Right Bazza, show me some ID. No ID on him. Alarm bells in my head replaced by air-raid siren. Walk to his van, take a look at the front. 1 x cracked number plate. Grrr. Photo. Sneakily took a photo of Barry. He was being very good, and very apologetic. I then Google mapped his post code to make sure they matched up, and rang his mobile number on the paper with his details on, he pulls two phones out of his pocket, Air-raid siren and alarm bells going off together, dodgy geezer alert. Saw his van actually had a road tax disc, and in the UK, you can't get road tax without insurance, so was slightly relieved, took photo of tax disc, and he hadn't taken the Chiswick Van Hire stickers off from when he bought it, so wrote that down, he even said that he had bought it only three months ago and I could phone them to check it out. All of that I was quite amazed, as I was in a state of shock, and I remembered most things. There was a witness also who was making sure I was OK, so I got his details as well. Then everybody went away, and I noticed that my witness then hopped in the van with Barry. D'oh. Didn't see that.

Anyway, there I was sitting alone outside a pub with a dented scooter (2 x dented rear cowls, from leg shield scratched, and chrome strip ruined, and the front mudguard was also munched up and wonky) a mild case of shock. And wondered what to do next. So I cancelled my next client. Then phoned Tim to ask him if he knew my brokers name. You may notice Joanie hasn't appeared on this list yet. I wanted to feel a bit more normal before I called her as she is a natural worrier. Then I pulled out my laptop from my backpack. No broken screen, bloody amazing… I should be in the next MacBook Pro ad! What to do next. Spot double yellows under the Vespa, all I need is for one of these automated ticket givers snapping me, luckily De Agostini, a client with a private car park was about 750m down the road. So hop up and limp to scooter. Try to start the motor, and fires, and is all OK. KIll motor and twist front guard away from wheel, and start to push. Leg hurts, more. Sit down and ponder options, call RAC, does it cover scooters? Call Joanie? Won't get it in car. Call De Agostini and see if someone can push it for me? Then I thought I should try to ride it. Get back on the horse and all that. Fire her up again, and after checking my blind spot 4 times take off very slowly along the road.

Luckily the bus lanes were out of restricted hours so I could travel kerb-side, and that was the longest 750m in my life! Finally got to De Ag drove down the side of the building and parked up, and had the sudden major desire to sit down on a couch, so hobbled into the building, still in full, slightly ragged attire. Went into office, took off bike gear and sat down with a can of Coke. Sat there for quite a while. Then phoned Joanie. I was still in shock so was probably none too lucid. Then Tim called back, and then went to my desk and did some work. Quite bizarre. Though apparently I wasn't quite myself, but pleased to have something to take my mind off it. One of my colleague Bradley is an ex-scooter rider, after two written off scooters, one from a slide on oil, and one from t-boning a moron doing a u-turn from a stopped line of traffic without indicating or looking, offered me a lift home as he lives further past Petersham in Esher, which was gratefully accepted.

Now the strange stuff started to happen, we got in the car pulled out on the road, next thing there was a motorbike, seemingly from nowhere appeared at the front drivers side. I got all panicky like Bradley hadn't seen him (he had). Then round Hammersmith one-way system we got cut-up by a moron. This happens every time on this road, so it isn't unusual, but Bradley caught me braking using the imaginary pedals in the passenger footwell! I was quite jumpy. Which is very unlike me. When I eventually got home, I was quite relieved. My leg hurt (I had terrible nights sleep), but luckily Barry had phoned with his insurers details, which was a major relief. The next day I intended to take the scooter to ScooterWorld to get a quote for fixing it up, so took my riding coat and the other bits were still at De Agostini, so headed to the bus, with a very sore leg. By lunch time, I decided that an A&E visit would be in order, as my leg wasn't feeling any better, and also a good delaying tactic not to get on the scooter! So 4 hours at Charing Cross Hospital in Hammersmith (though I must say the receptionist, Orthopaedic doctor and radiographer were all awesome, and considering the flotsam and jetsam of West London in the waiting room, I was amazed at their good humour!) I had a couple of Xrays and nothing was broken, so I was was happy, and the doctor said I didn't even need to strap it up, which is great as I am flying to NZ on Tuesday.

So that was was late Weds, so I went home on the tube and bus, and went back to De Ag on Thurs. Today my back and shoulder hurt as well. I had two calls in Chelsea to make, both miles from the tube station, so I decided that this was it, get back on it and stop being soft. As I walked down the drive I felt physically sick. And I was about to ride past ground zero in 3 minutes. I passed Robin, another scooterist, who wished me luck, which was nice, and I knew I had an audience which didn't hurt. Unshackled and started up the beast, still sickly. Rode down the drive, and got to the road. It was empty so took off gingerly and carefully, lucky not much traffic. Passed the accident spot and then felt alright again. Jumpy, and too quick on the brakes, but OK, it was nice to be back in the saddle, picked up the keys for the next job and rode there, all through busy South Ken and Knightsbridge and it was great.

[huge sigh of relief considering I am still going to Italy!]

I took the Vespa to Ahmed at ScooterWorld (www.scooterworld.co.uk) who went through the options for the Scooter. Barry enquired about an off the record fix, and it would come to about £360 including VAT for the fix and £130 for the ruined jacket. If it was an insurance job, it would be written off, and I would then have to buy it back and then get it fixed. I just want the bloody thing fixed and back to lovely again (including fixing the rust on the front guard) so gave Barry the options, so it looks like it's a fixer upper.

I went to Max's school book night on the way home, and was running late for a change so had to park at the school, so Max was running about with my helmet on, and then I gave some of his classmates rides up and down the footpath of our cul-de-sac, the kids loved it, and so did I. Did 40miles on Friday, 15 on the A40 at 50 MPH. I do love the noisy little blighter. Italy here we come.

Updates as they happen, and happy scooting. And lets be careful out there. No other bugger seems to be.