Yesterday was a very frustrating but, ultimately, very rewarding day. After taking care of the chores as usual, I set out with a sheaf of paperwork in hand to arrange the historic registration for Bexie. After all the dramas with the same process when I went to register Goldie last August, I was certain that I’d dotted every i and crossed every t.
Service NSW offices are government departments so they are especially picky about COVID-19 regulations and rules so, when I pulled up in the van I was dismayed to see a long, long line of people waiting outside of the office, looking bored and somewhat peeved. I almost turned around and went home but I figured that it wouldn’t be any better any other time so best to suck it up and get on with it.
As I got closer to the door it became clear that the gentleman manning the door had the responsibility to ensure that only a certain number of people were in the office at any one time. As one left, the next person in the queue was allowed in. Now I don’t like standing, my crappy right leg doesn’t like it at all, but I gritted my teeth and waited as the line of people in front of me got agonisingly shorter. At the door I saw the notice that said that only 25 people were allowed in the office at any one time. That seemed pretty peculiar to me as the office is HUGE, but, they’re making and enforcing the rules so…
Finally inside the door I explained to the greeter that I wanted to transact an historic registration, he asked if I had all the appropriate paperwork and, once he’d checked it over, he printed me a ticket with my number on it. I was confident that the longest part of the process was behind me as my previous experience with this office was that they were super efficient and fast. I sat down, ensuring that I did’t sit on a chair that had an “X” on it, and waited. Well, their usual rapid pace was not on show, but that could have been because, according to my over-hearing of various conversations, they were dealing with several rather complicated transactions.
Finally my number was called and I rocked up to the counter, explained my mission and was told by the lovely lady that she’d have me sorted in a jiffy. It was all going great until she went to put my model of bike into the appropriate place on the computer screen when it became clear that there was no CBX550 listed in the system. Despite Allison searching through the database a dozen different ways, it failed to show up. I explained that the bike HAD been registered in NSW before and also in the ACT, the details of which WERE on the back of the current (Victorian) registration form. Nope, no dice, no matter which was she cut it, she couldn’t register the bike because there was no CBX550 on the NSW RMS database.
So, call the boss. The boss explained that my model COULD be ADDED to the database but they didn’t have the authority to do it. An email had to be sent to the Inspector’s Office (they are, apparently not contactable by phone at all) and that, in the course of time, THEY would update the database. Remember my article from a couple of weeks ago about two steps forward and one step back? I was starting to believe that it was going to happen again.
“So, what do I do?” I asked, expecting that she’d tell me to go home and come back another day. Allison replied, “Just go and sit down, I’ll get the process going, you’ll still have the bike registered this afternoon.” Whoohooo. And, she was as good as her word. I’m sure I spent probably two hours on their (very) comfortable seats, but, eventually, Allison called me up and the job was completed. I have always been impressed by the staff at the Warrawong office, never more so than yesterday.
So, as you can see from the photo at the head of the article, I rushed home, put on the new plate and, later that evening, rode the bike into town for our usual weekly coffee night. Only a short run, around 40 kms altogether, and probably a bit ambitious taking Bexie out for her first ride at night time, but, hey.
Was it any good? Was it ever. All the lovely things that I liked about her came flooding back as soon as I rolled out of the driveway. The silky, smooth engine; the crisp gearbox, the comfortable riding position and the glorious sound from the stainless steel MOTAD exhaust system. All that an more, it was like sensory overload. I fell in love with the CBX550 all over again. The funniest thing is that, it’s a 38 year old bike and yet it doesn’t feel it. It feels amazingly modern and that came a huge surprise.
I can’t wait to do a longer ride; I think the poor girl is going to get quite a workout.