Pedal power

In hindsight it seems a slightly strange third birthday present. I was thrilled, of course. There is a photo somewhere in the family albums of me, dressed in my customary red corduroy dungarees and navy blue Guernsey, grinning away while astride my new, army green motorbike, with SAS on the front. 

It was plastic and had two wheels at the back, with pedals attached to the hub of the single front wheel. So it was really a tricycle. But in my mind I was a small Steve McQueen, ready to leap fences. Or I would have been if I’d been old enough to watch The Great Escape.

As I say, it was a curious gift given that top of my mother’s list of ‘things she’d rather her precious son didn’t do in later life’ were:

A) Have a career in the military

B) Ride a motorbike

I can only assume my father bought it. Possibly nearly in both senses.