Sometime in August 1975, aged 19, I got mobile.
I’d spent a year out between school and university and cycling to work when the railways were on strike had convinced me there were easier ways to get from A to B than bicycles. With a university place beckoning in central London, I also needed a way of getting around in the city, as well as something cheap to run and easy to park.
A motorcycle was the obvious answer. Continue reading
