Formative years spent riding bikes, drinking Bushmills black label, hanging out with disreputable bike clubs, writing for Motor Cycle Weekly. Moved over to subbing when MCW went bust and joined the engine room of a road haulage magazine as a temporary haven. Stayed for 22 years until the chance of redundancy and an early pension proved irresistible. Mrs Apus and I then ran away from home, leaving our son and daughter in London, to take things ever so easy on the Isle of Wight. Errrr, that's it.