THIS YEAR, I want to learn to ride a scooter. It might seem a bit late to take up a form of transport most people abandon in their late 20s, yet I am so irritated by cab drivers, bus routes and parking problems that I am prepared to risk the consequences of this slightly juvenile ambition.
Besides, I am not planning to scoot across Sydney’s Anzac Bridge, but lately, I fantasise about never needing the assistance of a cab or a bus. To be fair, the bus system is perfectly adequate and on balance, I prefer public transport to a filthy cab or rude driver.
Some days, however, a bus just doesn’t cut it.
My friend, Anna, who in a past life held a very important job, booked herself into…
