A first car stays in the memory more than a first kiss, according to a survey by website carfused.com. But not by much.

They say 93% of people remember the colour of their first car but only 88% can recall the name of the first person they kissed.

I can remember both. And they were a long time ago.

The girl was Angela, a beautiful blue eyed blonde. We were both 10 at the time.

She was my first love and my ambition was to be close to her for eternity although I gave it up as a bad job after a fortnight.

I lurked outside her house for an entire day, becoming her first stalker as well as her first kiss.

It might have worked out differently if I’d had a car and been able to drive. But I was 10. My feet wouldn’t have reached the pedals. Age can be cruel sometimes.

I can’t remember the second girl I kissed or when it happened.

My memory sags and resurfaces in mid teens when kissing was conducted with such enthusiasm youngsters ended up with frayed lips and unable to speak.

If a parent asked if you’d had a nice time when you sneaked in home, the closest to a reply you could manage would be: “Blubberlubber lubberblubber.”

Odd that I can remember all of my cars.

The first car was a cream Ford Anglia that was traded in for a blue Mini.

A cream Corsair followed, then a red Triumph Spitfire which I bought new because I was getting married. Others might have put the money down on a house but I opted for a sports car which, in 1967, cost £717.

By heck, in those days you could go out on a Friday night with five bob, pay entry to an orgy and come home with fish and chips and change.

The Spitfire had to go when my wife Maria became pregnant. I intended to buy something sensible but came home with a cream and green Lotus Cortina.

I blew it up on the M62.

Next was a red and cream Fiat Abarth, then a blue VW camper van: I blew that up on the M1.

A green Vauxhall Viva estate and a blue Mazda, then a dark blue Ford Cortina that became very popular with cats after I mended a hole in the wing with a tuna tin.

The others were a silver Sierra Ghia, a dark blue two litre Granada, followed by a 2.8 silver Granada, a black Fiat Punto, then a blue Punto until I settled for the silver Astra which I still drive.

Now,let’s think about the girls ...