Terry Holland grew up in darkest Essex during the 1970s, narrowly surviving close encounters with runaway JCBs, rampaging skinheads, irate farmers and inebriated Essex Girls. He still goes into convulsions at the sight or sound of a Ford Capri Ghia. Following a period of ineffectual student activism in Southeast London in the darkest 1980s, he moved to Berlin in search of thrills. He found them. Appetites sated, he was drawn to the peace and tranquility of the Netherlands, where he found love. There he still lives among the clogs, tulips and wooden shoes with his black cat, Makkem.