're racing for all the wrong reasons. They appear to be far happier spending their day walking around the paddock like they were on a Hollywood film set. The latest shades, the latest trainers, the tallest blonde with the biggest tits, the dumbest shorts

of their musty war band on toward the shaded end of the concrete basin.It's only when I skirt the ATM machine gaggle that I notice this large guy is still staring at the Thruxton. Not a likely bike thief I figure, he's dressed like a farmer in a massive sweaty

Curvilicious Lycra®-clad ladies, melting sun, shimmering wristwatches, cool shades, sticky snaky tarmac, glinting prototype bikes and an endless supply of paid up riding time. That's why I got in to this line of work, Nope, more like meet up

to Spain - terrific mountains - good hospitality both ex-pat and local.When we took the picture above it was mid-20's degree C - and we were both just a tiny shade on the warm side - perfect!The D618 winds its way from god knows where in the west to Foix

itself in the centre of the dirt track, away from the cool shade of the trees. As I approached it refused to move, determined to soak up as much heat has it could. I stopped, picked up a long stick and gave it a prod to get it off the road before a less

long run down past Nigels and to a place called Pals, near Girona in Spain. You don't need tattoo's and a Harley to be a hard arsed biker, just ride 500 odd miles in 35 degree in the shade heat in full bike gear in one go. What can I say, fill up, sweat

sleet was falling and the clouds were the shade of grey that signals more was to come. I didn't care, from the moment I first saw the Sign to Silverstone I was smiling and nothing was going to dampen this day. To ride on the same track as my motorsport