Post from Tim:
I live in the city, so I love the convenience of the sporty small car. The smaller the better. In fact, my dream car used to be my neighbor's Cooper Mini - a tiny British toy that should have been used in a circus act with 15 trapped clowns waiting to spill out from its tiny doors. It is so small I could perpendicular park it on a street full of parallel-parked cars.
But travel has opened my eyes to a whole new classification of small vehicles with style. What Senator's head wouldn't turn as I blasted past Washington DC's U.S. Capitol building in a three wheeled colorful Thai tuk-tuk? The thunderous noise of its small propane engine, the noise that gives the tuk-tuk its onomatopoeia'd name, would rattle every window in the Senate office buildings. I'd be on the single front seat laughing, with one hand on the boomerang shaped steering wheel and the other perversely tucked between my two front legs on the strangely positioned gearshift lever.
But the tuk-tuk would be just the beginning of my collection. As the Vietnamese and Thai, I'd need a 110 cc Honda Dream motor scooter that pushes a two-wheeled cart with bench seats. Or maybe one each of the two Laotian versions, the first that pulls a two-seater rickshaw and the second that sweeps its passengers along to the side. The envy of the town!
Finally, I'd round out my collection with bicycles like the Vietnamese cyclo, a one-seat pedal powered rickshaw on which the driver sits behind the passenger and steers by pushing the passenger's seat. Why should I bike through D.C. just for exercise when I can make money at the same time? Of course, I'd have to modify the seat to accommodate fat American behinds, but that shouldn't be too difficult. If the tourists got too heavy, I'd just head down Pennsylvania Avenue selling cut flowers and bread from overflowing woven baskets suspended off my back wheel. I've got it all figured out.
But travel has opened my eyes to a whole new classification of small vehicles with style. What Senator's head wouldn't turn as I blasted past Washington DC's U.S. Capitol building in a three wheeled colorful Thai tuk-tuk? The thunderous noise of its small propane engine, the noise that gives the tuk-tuk its onomatopoeia'd name, would rattle every window in the Senate office buildings. I'd be on the single front seat laughing, with one hand on the boomerang shaped steering wheel and the other perversely tucked between my two front legs on the strangely positioned gearshift lever.
But the tuk-tuk would be just the beginning of my collection. As the Vietnamese and Thai, I'd need a 110 cc Honda Dream motor scooter that pushes a two-wheeled cart with bench seats. Or maybe one each of the two Laotian versions, the first that pulls a two-seater rickshaw and the second that sweeps its passengers along to the side. The envy of the town!
Finally, I'd round out my collection with bicycles like the Vietnamese cyclo, a one-seat pedal powered rickshaw on which the driver sits behind the passenger and steers by pushing the passenger's seat. Why should I bike through D.C. just for exercise when I can make money at the same time? Of course, I'd have to modify the seat to accommodate fat American behinds, but that shouldn't be too difficult. If the tourists got too heavy, I'd just head down Pennsylvania Avenue selling cut flowers and bread from overflowing woven baskets suspended off my back wheel. I've got it all figured out.