Getting on the bike is like straddling a rather low-slung ironing board - your bum seems to go down a long way before you hit any padded motorcycle paraphernalia. Then you're planted atop the 2" wide saddle and have to stretch your arms over a very long, thin tank to get to the bars. At this point you sort of but your knees into the super streamlined fairing in an effort to plant your feet on the rests.

So you do all the usual things, twiddle the throttle, pump the brake lever, squeeze the clutch ... Or rather you don't squeeze the clutch - it doesn't budge. This is a real man's bike, and requires several comely assistants to help you get the lever anywhere near the grip.

Now, where's the starter button? Bloody Italians, never put anything where you expect it.

'Course, there is no starter button, for the simple reason that there is no starter. Well, there is, but it's a stick shaped bit of chromed metal poking out of the side of the crankcase.

This novel method of providing the required momentum to the internal whirly bits is apparently termed a kickstart, so called because after a few hugely energetic thrusts with the right foot, accompanied by precious little activity from the engine, you want to start kicking the bike pretty much anywhere. You see why 80's motorcycling was a minority sport.

So starting is a mite more complicated than yer average R1. First off, turn on your twin fuel taps, twiddle with the ticklers, tickle the twiddlers, turn on the ignition and start jumping up and down on the kickstart.

One day, if everything happens to coincide correctly, the engine fires with a mighty roar and a cloud of blue smoke and settles down to a rumbling Conti-enhanced throbbingness. Call over your selection of comely assistants to assist you in the retraction of the clutch lever, engage first gear and waffle off to the accompaniment of Delorto heavy breathing noises.

Now a few do's and don'ts. Do make sure you change the oil every thousand miles or so - air cooled motors give it a hard time and oil's much cheaper than aluminium and steel which has been lovingly hand crafted on an Italian virgin's thigh ... finding virgins in this day and age is an exacting science.

And do go to Halfords and buy a couple of new sparking plugs. 10 year old knackered plugs don't aid easy starting.

Don't drop the oil drain plug in your large bowl of old hot oil and then discover you've lost your handy little magnet-on-a-stick.

And finally, don't store your bike for 5 years with the carbs full of petrol - takes ages to clean the gunk out after.