Where I grew up in the 1970s, Vauxhalls of this era were driven by hoodlums. Seemed a shame but who was I to argue? I pulled up at the traffic lights late one afternoon on my Sukuki GT250 motorcycle and said to the chap in the dark blue Velox next to me – ‘Nice car’. He said ‘WOT?’. I said ‘I said NICE CAR’. Actually, that’s not strictly true, I thought ‘nice car’ but I kept my mouth firmly shut and eyes glued to the red light on the other side of the intersection. When the light changed to green, I dropped the clutch, front wheel rose up off the road and my bike bolted forward, leaving the big guy and his dark blue sedan in my dust. Actually, that’s not strictly true, I made like I hadn’t noticed him, gently eased out the clutch whilst ensuring the nice chap was a good nose ahead and eventually dropping in behind and maintaining a healthy 30 metres. Well it just seemed right, didn’t it?