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I will take the small one, please!

Devious behaviour can, at times, be justified by the end. As in the end justifying the means. Sometimes you crave something so badly that selling your wife, your soul; your LP’s of Bob Dylan seems a mere trifle - just to satisfy that craving….. 

I was 17 years old and had just been side-swiped by a doddering octogenarian, resulting in my Honda MB5 being written off. Not having wheels drove me crazy, which in turn drove my parents crazy and soon we were tyre-kicking at bike shops across town. Having dwarfed my 50cc Honda my parents agreed that a bigger motorcycle would be in order, up to a maximum of 500cc. 

At the second shop we visited there were only two potential

The Katana Boxer

When I grew up I was an only son. I still am, come to think of it. I had two sisters, but they were much older and, lets face it, girls! So the day our new neighbours arrived and I learnt they had three sons was a red letter day. 

 Steve was a year older than me, Henk and Malcolm about six years older. They all played rugby, cricket and golf and all had a passion for motorcycles. It was like finding kindred spirits that had been lost for 15 years, and especially Steve and I became inseparable. We fished together, played golf together, got into trouble together. Almost like an African version of “Stand by me”. A rites of passage thing. 

 Both of us

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