So, a particular Italian small business owner, who has had some connections for decades in the food and wine industry, had a Cagiva Elefant. I even saw a photo of it in immaculate condition.
The story goes that he worked at the cafe/bar at some location or other in Italy. Because the bus was only once per day he was arriving late so the owner offered to buy him a bike. His mum had warned him not to work there but he went anyway, so she begged him to be careful.
They went to the motorbike shop and he pointed to the cheapest Vespa, “C’mon that’ll do” he told his boss. Boss was having none of it, “No, what bike would you buy if you had the money” so he pointed to the Cagiva.
Apparently it would leave anything else in the dust, and riding down and along the beach, and so on. But what he remembers most is constant visits to the petrol station. Apparently a thirsty bike, but he admitted maybe because of the way he was riding it.
When he told the boss he must return to London, the boss was very upset. The boss had tried to convince him to return to Sicily with him and he would be given a villa and a business to run, because the boss liked him so much.
Anyway, he said, the guy later died in prison. He was relatively high up in the Sicilian mafia it turned out.
As a result, the Cagiva has stood in storage for decades just in case someone from the family comes knocking on the door. It doesn’t matter that the boss explicitly stated it belonged to him, he is afraid the boss’s son might one day knock on the door.
The small business owner some years ago attempted to give the bike to his son to ride, but as soon as the son heard of the mafia connection he refuses to touch it or even entertain the idea. So instead, once every few months, a friend goes to the storage and gets the engine running, to keep it working, and puts it away again.
So, a particular Italian small business owner, who has had some connections for decades in the food and wine industry, had a Cagiva Elefant. I even saw a photo of it in immaculate condition.
The story goes that he worked at the cafe/bar at some location or other in Italy. Because the bus was only once per day he was arriving late so the owner offered to buy him a bike. His mum had warned him not to work there but he went anyway, so she begged him to be careful.
They went to the motorbike shop and he pointed to the cheapest Vespa, “C’mon that’ll do” he told his boss. Boss was having none of it, “No, what bike would you buy if you had the money” so he pointed to the Cagiva.
Apparently it would leave anything else in the dust, and riding down and along the beach, and so on. But what he remembers most is constant visits to the petrol station. Apparently a thirsty bike, but he admitted maybe because of the way he was riding it.
When he told the boss he must return to London, the boss was very upset. The boss had tried to convince him to return to Sicily with him and he would be given a villa and a business to run, because the boss liked him so much.
Anyway, he said, the guy later died in prison. He was relatively high up in the Sicilian mafia it turned out.
As a result, the Cagiva has stood in storage for decades just in case someone from the family comes knocking on the door. It doesn’t matter that the boss explicitly stated it belonged to him, he is afraid the boss’s son might one day knock on the door.
The small business owner some years ago attempted to give the bike to his son to ride, but as soon as the son heard of the mafia connection he refuses to touch it or even entertain the idea. So instead, once every few months, a friend goes to the storage and gets the engine running, to keep it working, and puts it away again.
CSB.