I brought a motorbike to uni

Not everyone’s struggling with Translink every day-  some of us are cool enough to ride a motorcycle. 

I always had a love for motorcycles. At seventeen people usually go out and buy whichever ford fiesta mummy or daddy’s insurance can afford, but I chose a different path.

After two years of crashes, misadventures and freedom, I decided to take my bike with me to Queens, all the way from the sunny welsh borders.

You don’t get the fun of luggage jenga in a car.

The first thing that strikes you when bringing a motorcycle to uni is the burning desire everyone has to condescendingly tell you how dangerous motorcycles are.

Driving cars is dangerous. So is crossing the road, or drinking. At first, perhaps the concern is appreciated, but after a while, it gets a little tedious. then very tedious.

In all seriousness, how many bikers haven’t snapped from the patronising “advice” of complete strangers is a mystery to this day.

If a cat will sit on it, can it really be dangerous?

However, one of the main benefits is the freedom of parking. Headed to the shops? park up on the pavement. It’s perfectly legal, and won’t cost a penny.

Whereas anyone wishing to bring a car to the notorious Elms Village has to pay a hefty charge, my bike was allowed to live conveniently outside my window, next to the bicycle racks.

However, the convenience of this location led to a terrible realization. That of the horror of drunken students.

Ahh, Drunk students….

I don’t know what it is about motorcycles, but it seems drunk freshers have a deep subconscious desire to straddle a bike at 2am for a misguided selfie or profile pic.

Unfortunately, getting on a bike when completely blottoed is not as easy as you’d think, which leads, inevitably, to the bike falling over, drunken fools in tow, screaming incessantly throughout the fall.

Getting up at 2am to rescue such creatures is truly no enjoyable task. I bought a motion sensing alarm to prevent such abuse of the bike, but to no avail. My housemates staged an intervention due to the alarm’s incessant beeping (there were a lot of drunk freshers.)

The highlight of the year, though, was surely waking up at 3am to see my bike disappearing into the doors of Oak 5. after a phonecall to security, I finally got it back, but not without a smashed indicator or two.

With the right instagram filter, even the titanic museum can look beautiful.

Why do it then, if every night out is a terrible risk of booze fuelled destruction. The answer really is freedom. Having a bike allows you to explore Northern Ireland, at any given moment.

Certainly, most trips are just lazily heading to Tesco’s because you can’t bear the thought of walking two miles with ten shopping bags, but in a country with some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, a road trip can be truly breathtaking.

Also, free parking. It’s brilliant.