I ended up kicking my dadin a rather delicate area

Not content with cruising the streets in my little Smart '˜dodgem' car, I have just bought another form of transport.

It’s a shiny, bright red racing bicycle. But don’t worry folks, I won’t be donning any fluorescent Lycra gear and taking on the Tour de France – my new steed is simply for work and leisure purposes.

Before I passed my driving test, cycling was my passion. It’s a much healthier way of getting about and I also found it great for hopping on and off trains.

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Having a bike was also brilliant for the odd ride around the New Forest, exploring the area looking for ponies, pigs and, er, pubs.

Another bonus of having a bike was I didn’t have to lug loads of heavy theatre paraphernalia around in a shoulder bag (I work in a theatre).

Instead, it could go in a carrier on the back.

Over the years I’ve had many adventures on two wheels and I can still remember my first bike.

It was a little trike that I had at the age of three and it was brilliant.

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It had a little stand on the back that meant you could take a passenger and my sister and I used to play petrol stations on it up and down my driveway.

I then progressed to a two-wheel Disney-themed one with stabilisers. At the tender age of five, this was much more difficult to master.

My mum took me over to Cams Alders playing fields in Fareham and sat me on my steed on the top of a huge grassy hill .

It felt like being on top of a mountain. Then she let me go at breakneck speed whilst my dad stood at the bottom to catch me.

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Unfortunately when he did I kicked him in a rather delicate area. After that there was no more hill fun.

I was made to stick to the pavements, although I still managed to come home with my legs covered in scrapes and bruises.

Being a bit of a tomboy, I was always more interested in the boys’ bikes – especially if they had a Raleigh Chopper or a Grifter.

They really were the coolest thing.