A little story about how, as a freelancer, I Nearly Binned a Client: After spending two years trying to drag them out of a 1990s marketing loop. Fed up doing the same marketing campaigns month after month I decided to take action, so I ignored the brief, published what I wanted. Then waited to be fired.

The fact I split my time between Northern Ireland and Spain is well documented on this here blog. But why? Well, beyond the obvious, it’s because I’ve always had really dry skin, ever since I was a teenager. A discovery on a family holiday when I was 14 cured it, temporarily, so I got hooked on Spain.

What the feck am I on about? Read on, I’ll explain.

Riding in Northern Ireland means freezing hands are a given. I finally fitted some Oxford heated grips to the Beverly 350, but I didn't want a bodge job wiring setup. Here is how I used the Oxford Junction Box to keep things tidy and stop the battery draining overnight.

I was ready to flog the Beverly 350. The noise was unbearable, and I assumed that was just how these older scooters were. But it turns out, it wasn't the bike's fault; it was the previous owner's obsession with "performance" upgrades. Here is how I stripped off the screaming Malossi kit, returned the bike to stock, and saved my ears (and a fortune on a new bike) in the process.

After a two-month wait, the warranty replacement for my Beverly 400 ignition switch finally arrived. But while the electrical fault is gone, the rattle remains. It turns out they replaced the switch but not the worn housing that caused the failure in the first place. Here is why I think this "fix" is doomed to fail.

Spanish roads are a tarmac utopia compared to the UK, but the roundabouts are a death trap. From the "geometry of fear" and fluctuating motorway speed limits to the strict ban on earplugs and the bureaucracy of parking fines, here is my no-nonsense guide to surviving life on two wheels in Spain without losing your licence or your mind.