THE DREAM THAT MOST PEOPLE JUST WON’T BLOODY UNDERSTAND
I bought a bike… not because I needed transport. No. I bought it because somewhere, deep in the part of my soul where reason goes to die, I had a dream. One day, when I’m old and I mean really old, the kind of old where your knees sound like a gravel driveway… I’ll roll into my garage, unable to walk, but there she’ll be. My bike. Not just metal and petrol. But a trophy. A monument to the chaos, the freedom, the madness of youth... ...and the fact that I still somehow have both kidneys. I’ve met people along the way. Some of them became lifelong mates, bonded by the sacred ritual of shouting over engines and complaining about tyre prices. Others… Well, let’s just say I’m thrilled to have the memory of a goldfish. I’ve been soaked through to the underpants, I’ve frozen to the point where my eyebrows developed frostbite, And I’ve also been warmer than a pie in a glovebox on a summer’s day. I’ve been terrified. I’ve crashed. I’ve fallen over, sometimes with great...