Riding a scooter in Xi'an

Winter cracked into action today, producing clear nostrils, cold fingers, stinging ears and a quickened step. I had the first three, but not the last, because as the proud new owner of a Xinri Electric Scooter, I don't have to walk to the bus stop. Instead, I can cruise past it on my way to work in coal-powered, psuedo-environmentally friendly silence.

I’ve been waiting a long time to buy one. My research told me that Xinri was the most reliable make, and if the adverts painted on the sides of the 704 bus are anything to go by, it appears Jackie Chan also drives a Xinri. That effectively was a deal clincher for me.

It comes with five different methods for locking it. Mostly I only have to use two, because my flat and workplace have secure parking places, and there are plenty of makeshift ‘bike parks’ around the city where you pay 1 kuai (10p) and get it looked after. However, leave it outside in an unfortunate position and that may be the last I see of it.

It also comes with a sort of rain cover that you drape over yourself when riding in rain. Whenever it rains, Xian becomes dotted with people wearing an assortment of different-coloured plastic sheets whizzing through puddles. Only at the third attempt did I manage to correctly put it on, thinking the two holes for the wing mirrors were holes for my arms and the see-through bit for the light was for my face.

The flats where I live have an old brick bike shed where the bikes live and where you can plug it in to charge it up over night. It’s looked over by an old lady of dishevelled appearance and a young girl with a bad limp, both of whom speak a language almost unintelligible (to me, at least). It’s dark and dingy inside, mostly filled with old unwanted bicycles covered in dust. Every time I come in she is either sitting in her chair by the stove warming her hands with the ginger cat wrapped around the base, or watching TV in the little room that she and the girl live in inside the bike shed. Sometimes I stop and have a chat. Topics are almost exclusively about someone she knows in Sweden, flight time from Beijing to London, the fact (or opinion) that I overpaid on the rent of my flat, and that I should watch out for the woman who reads the meter because she doesn’t trust her. Now winter has come, the two of them must be absolutely freezing.

My morning route takes me up the main South Street to the Bell Tower, centre of Xian, and along the main East Avenue, through the arches of the East Gate and straight along the main road more or less to my company. In the evenings, I take a left inside the East Gate and drive along the single-lane road that circles round right up against the entire inside length of the City Wall, until I come out at the South Gate, very near my flat.

Mostly every road is busy and requires maximum concentration at all times, leaving little room for enjoying the surrounds. However, that road I take in the evening is not really designed for cars. It’s very quiet, and passes some areas that retain a lot of original character, not to mention the ever impressive City Wall. Especially now I don’t have to take the overcrowded buses, it is a genuine pleasure to go to and from work. I particularly like being able to weave through gaps created by cars stuck in traffic.

With only a throttle, brakes and the all important horn to worry about, and a top speed of 35km/h (on full battery), driving is mostly a test of hazard awareness. The hazards come from many directions. The large intersections common in Xian are generally controlled by traffic lights, but right-hand turns at red lights are acceptable, so always looking in every direction is a definite must. Drivers of large trucks carrying earth from construction sites (la tu che) apparently have some code of conduct whereby they must drive at a speed of ridiculous or above. Fortunately, they only come out at night. The rampant proliferation of cars is less of a hazard due to the almost permanent low speeds everywhere in the gridlocked city. The main roundabout, for example, looks a little like that one around the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, but the low speeds make it surprisingly easy to negotiate. The bus drivers are masters of their trade, well used to two-wheeled vehicles entwining themselves around the bus as it drives along.

The electric moped is more common than its petrol-driven cousin, but less common than the bicycle and certainly less common than the car. However, the number one threat comes from the lowest rung of the ladder - the pedestrian. Particularly the elderly. I've seen a few minor incidents involving an old person and a car. Seeing as the driver is obviously a rich person and the old person, ticket warden, etc is not, issues of financial fairness are more important than whose fault it actually is. The crowd invariably supports the less financially well-off party with calls for 'pei qian' - 'cough up some money!'. Plus China is generally a country were old people are respected and looked after like children. Not wishing to have a potential mob hemming in my front wheel, I take extra care when approaching someone who looks like it would be expensive and culturally reprehensible to hit.

The elderly and other highly compensatable parties do have one advantage in that they are unlikely to suddenly run out into the road at any angle or speed that takes their fancy, which is what happened in what's the closest I've come to an accident. Fortunately my brakes were working so a potentially nasty low-speed accident was avoided. I delivered a choice selection of the finest words the English language has to offer, and continued on.

In fact, while road rage is fairly uncommon, it's quite liberating to be able to swear very loudly and directly without fear of retaliation. I make sure to swear in English, partly because my bad pronunciation might reduce the insulting impact of what I mean to say, and partly because one day someone actually might turn round and things could get very mafan (troublesome) indeed. Most of the time the pointedness is slightly lost on them, not to mention the humour of combining four different F-words into a grammatically correct sentence. Last week I was going at full speed when faced with five youths walking in the middle of the road in my direction, ie, the wrong direction. I engaged the horn early and continuously, which only scattered them very late, but one was so engrossed in his mobile phone that it was only when I was shouting "Out the way, you f***ing idiot!" at ear trumpet length from him that he finally perked up and jumped out of the way with the sort of expression that I was aiming for. About five seconds later they had managed to remember the rude words they saw in some Hollywood film and directed it back in my direction, although it took a further five seconds for me to understand it, by which time any chance of further exchanges were long gone.

The scooter can also be used as a means of generating income. Some people, mostly middle-aged blokes, operate informal taxi services. While it is technically illegal (and even carrying a second person is also illegal), it's also very handy given the uselessness of public transport in Xian. I've been approached before by people wanting a ride, but when they see it's a foreigner, they keep on walking and pretend they weren't approaching me. One of my proudest moments in China happened last week when I fooled one of my colleagues into thinking I was one of these taxi guys. I drove up slowly beside him and said 'zou bu zou' - 'where to, mate?', the standard greeting. He shook his head angrily. I drove slightly ahead and said it again. This time he was halfway through his angry 'piss off' expression when he saw it was me and his face dropped. Although it was only one sentence, it sounded native enough to fool him.

Overall, it's a lot of fun, practical and a huge improvement on the buses! Presuming, of course, I don't hit someone tomorrow.