'There must surely be more to life than getting round the next bend faster and faster!' This was the topic of conversation as we sat drinking in the pub one night.
I was a biker - and there was nothing I liked more than riding my motorbike at speed (the faster the better!) around winding country lanes or in the slip-stream of some lorry on the motorway, and then opening up the throttle to roar by to achieve the 'ton'.
So here I was, a 20-year-old girl - the only girl among a group of lads who also loved to ride (and race!) motorbikes. Usually the thrill of the speed satisfied us, but this night, we found ourselves discussing 'what is life really all about?'. One of the lads happened to mention that his mother went to a church in Chessington, and so we agreed to pay the church a visit and see if we could discover if there really was a purpose for life.
