I saw the ad online, and because the owner was living not far from Leuven, I made an appointment. I went there by bus, by myself. I was nervous as hell. I rang the bell. The guy took me out back, to his garden, and I saw pony standing there, black and brown, with a white, rusty baggage holder at the back. He looked slightly beaten, to be honest, but this is me speaking objectively, now, many years after. Back then, I just remember thinking “wow, he’s perfect, he looks just like me!”. For I am also slightly beaten, and black and brown are colours I often wear. But I also had been given professional advice, and I tried to keep it cool. “Go for a test ride”, they said. “The engine should be cold before you start it”, they said. I asked to go for a test ride. And I shyly felt pony up, just to check that he was cold. He was dead cold, but started up just fine. We went around the block. I didn’t dare do anything weird, like accelerate or brake hard, which, retrospectively, I probably should have done. I felt so shy. What I remember the most, is coming back, and already having a certain feeling about him. But I did not want to rush things. So I said “thank you, I’ll think about it”, before walking out. That’s when I saw another guy standing at the door, and the owner’s behaviour made it clear that it wasn’t anyone he knew. He said, “oh yeah, there is another person coming tonight to check out pony”. I panicked, all at once, and made one of the biggest and most wonderful decisions in my life, right there, in that moment (and it was a LOT of money, for me, still is, but definitely back then). I said, with a sudden rush of confidence: “send him away. I will buy that scooter from you now”. I just could not stand the idea of anyone else looking at pony, touching pony, or bargaining about him. He was going to be mine, for I saw him for who he was, and no one would ever be able to love him the way I could, in spite of his flaws, or whatever!
I saw the owner get nervous as well, slightly. He said, hesitatingly, “but you’d have to pay for it immediately”. I tried to think practically, and fast. “Of course, if I may use your internet for the transfer”. I didn’t bring enough cash, and I was still refusing the smartphone hype, back then. The owner ended up sending that guy away, and we sat in his living room to finalise the transaction. My heart was beating hard, my hands were shaking, as I signed the hand written contract. Yet, I never felt so sure about anything in my life. Pony was mine! Or I his! Whichever way. It was 2018. In a way, I had low ambitions. I didn’t need a vehicle to get to work, nor for extensive travel. But pony ended up changing my life in every possible way. I still miss him, every day. Although I have “another” pony now, I don’t know if I have ever properly processed the loss of “him”. Me and him, for seven years, on the road! Our first (still modest) “trip” was during the lockdown, and we didn’t go that far at all, but it was the first time that I really felt how free he could make me feel. We rode about a 100km, no stops at shops, only nature. It was wonderful, like driving through ghostland: no one on the road, we were really alone in the world. It was perfect. He was. He always has been perfect, in that way. Giving me those two essential feelings: being carried and absolute freedom.
This picture was taken by my friend Tomas, on the day I brought pony home. You will rarely see me smiling in that way. Only pony could do that me. When I look at it, I am surprised by how, for once, the happiness shines from the inside out, all the way through the skin, the face, and all the other layers. He was my sun, it wasn’t me, it was all him… That light… The freedom and joys he gave me! It’s pony, all pony, only pony, and pony forever. I miss him like hell.
Pony Press 