I've just come off the motorbike for the first time.  I was heading round a bend near a school packed with mumsies dropping their spawn off when I saw a car pulling out of the school entrance.  Instinctively I pulled on the brakes, which you're not suppose to do whilst turning, and lost it.  I slid a fair way despite only going 20-ish.  The bloke stopped and checked I was okay, but as I hadn't hit him and he'd not actually been pulling out, just nudging forward to see around the 4x4s and buses, there wasn't much else to be done except ring the AA.

Me okay, bike not so.  I thought I'd got away with it for a moment, but the front wheel is out of alignment.  I had to use up my first free recovery to get it back home, and the garage can't see it until next week.  Arse.  Back to the push bike for a while then.

Still, it could very much have been worse - My helmet has a whole load of scuff marks on the front and visor, which could have been my face, and my rucksack is completely shredded, which could have been my back.  I found a biro inside the front pocket of the rucksack that was completely smashed.  So kids, wear protective gear - it works!  ;)

Don't take this  the wrong way - I mean in the same way I dislike Americans.  In other words, the individual students / Americans I know are lovely people, but the group as a whole is some kind of huge evil diabolical clutch of misery.

For the last four weeks, since my usual commuter train stopped running, I've been using a motorbike to get to work, along much the same route I used to take on a cycle to the station (due to the proximity of several motorways, which as a learner I'm not allowed on, I have limited options in which route I can choose).  And there is a lot of traffic.  On the cycle I never really noticed the traffic, it was just this smelly,  mostly stationary mass that formed narrow corridors of hot metal for me to pedal down.  But on a motorbike, which is just that bit too wide and forbidden from using bus lanes, it's a different story.

During the summer holidays, South Manchester is a quiet and sparsely populated place, punctuated only occasionally by the sounds of car alarms and gunfire.  But come September, around 25000 18 to 21-year-olds descend on the place, and the local bus companies (five of them at the last count) respond by achieving a frequency of one bus every thirty seconds along Wilmslow road.  You'd think that the bus lanes would mean that this wasn't a problem, but no.  You fail to consider the sheer idiocy of most bus drivers.  For instance, if there is no room at a stop, they stop in the other lane.  The one with all the cars in.  And then they wait there for five minutes, because they're trying to stop the bus from another company following them from picking up any passengers.

But that isn't actually the main problem.  About a mile up the road from our house is a large hall of residence.  This hall is on the other side of the road from the nearest bus stop, connected by a pelican crossing.  In summertime, this is barely used.  But when it's stopping the traffic every minute or so to let students across, it causes tailback in excess of five miles long.

Now, you're probably all sitting there accusing me of being unreasonable.  I know, I've been a student too.  But there is one factor you're not considering: This happens every day around about 8AM.  What the holy living fuck is any student doing out of bed at 8 A fucking M?!  When I was a student, I didn't get up until lunchtime, ever.  Nor did any other student.  Occasionally an inexperienced tutor would try to hold a tutorial at 9AM, but they always gave up after a couple of weeks.

Please, for the love of God, let us taxpayers get to work first, then leave.  We're all gone by 9, I promise.  Have a lie-in.  Have more to drink the night before.  Failing that, get a cycle.  It'll work out cheaper than the bus, and the university is only a couple of miles up the road for you.  Spare a thought for those of us with twenty miles to go and no public transport options available.  ;)

I have my first motorbike!  A Honda CBF 125.  Fortunately I had just enough cash set aside to get it, because getting a second-hand bike from the pages of Auto Trader was a logistical nightmare.  My first ever experience of riding solo (without an instructor behind me) was of the 0.2 miles back from the local Honda dealer.  Foolishly it'd taken me until 3PM - school kickout time - to screw up enough courage to actually pick the bike up, and even in those 0.2 miles there are two primary schools.  Mummys may be kind and gentle with their kids, but they're impatient speed-addled hell bitches behind the wheel of a 4WD.

That was last Friday.  Today I used it for my commute the first time, and fortunately I was able to take it really slowly - because the traffic wasn't about to let me get above 10 MPH.  Yes, today's the day the students came back, so Wilmslow road was nose-to-tail buses and daddy-bought Fiats.  I know I'll get better at this and be able to nip in and out of spaces, but for the moment I was just sitting quietly in the queue.  I even turned the engine off a couple of times.

I found yet more evidence of the North/South divide in Manchester too.  South of the Mancunian Way everyone seemed to be very patient, and several times I was given more space and let out of junctions, presumably because of the big L plates.  However, to the North of that was twat-in-a-hatchback central.

Plus, I managed to sit in a bus lane for a few hundred yards in the middle of a camera zone.  Ooops.  Seriously, I saw the arrow saying "You can go back into the left hand lane," so I took it to let others overtake me.  But it was just for a left turn, and I didn't see the bus lane start again, because there was a car sitting on the road markings.  Agh.  Still, I saw no flash, so hopefully I'm okay.  ;)

Still, even on just those two journeys, I can already feel myself getting better.  That'll probably continue until my next lesson, where the instructor will be aghast at the bad habits I've picked up.

And the petrol fumes are clearly getting to me - I already hate cyclists.  Not as much as buses though.

I passed my CBT (Compulsory Basic Training for Motorcycles) yesterday.  Considering the two kids and the 50-ish hippy woman on the same course as me, it can't have been that hard (although the woman didn't make it through to the on-the-road bit).  But nonetheless, I'm now legal to ride.

Yes, I did stall it (although only at lights, not at roundabouts ;) ).  My clutch control is as crap as it ever was in a car, but I'll get used to it again.  So, anyone got or know of anyone with a Honda or Yamaha 125 for sale?  I need to ride round and round our estate before I stop looking like a complete idiot.

In other news, I used DOSBox to get Fastracker 2 running on my PC again, and actually came up with something half-decent for the first time in years.  Far nicer to use than Reason or Acid.  Just goes to show that nothing is a substitute for the tools you're used to, although I'm holding out for using an Amiga emulator to run ProTracker 2.3B.  ;)

That does it.

Part of my journey into work involves taking my bike on a train. Both my house and my office are a fair distance from the nearest station, so the bike is a necessity (having one expands the catchment area of a station by nine times according to official figures, apparently).

As part of the Glorious New Peoples Republic of Manchester Five-Year Transport Plan, the line on which I travel will be closed. Doctor Beeching's zombie appears to have seized control of GMPTE. It will be replaced (after a year of replacement bus services) by an extension of the Metrolink tram system.

Fair enough, there will still be a rail-based public transport route into North East Manchester. However, they don't allow bikes on trams, and they certainly don't allow them on buses. Therefore, the cycling part of my commute will expand from five miles each way to thirteen miles each way, and involve me riding through a part of Manchester that's usually on fire. Joy. Get a puncture there, and I'm dead.

So, enough is enough.  I refuse to be subject to the mad whims of chavvy bike shops and imbecile chauffeur-driven council mandarins, whose only experience of public transport is overtaking a bus in their limo, any longer. I'm going to get my motorcycle license.

Fortunately I already have a full (and clean, due to never being used) driving license, which means I don't have to take a theory test, and I'm over 21. So all I need to do is complete the Compulsory Basic Training, take the test on a 125cc capable of 100 mph or more, and I can instantly ride any bike. And I'll be able to give my girlfriend a lift into work as well. And motorbikes will be excluded from the congestion charge in Manchester.

So, congratulations Mr Green Public Transport Chief, you've driven me off the trains onto a private motorised vehicle. Well done you.