Many of us have a penchant for speed – especially if it comes via a loud combustion engine. Not me, however.

This week, as I flung my bedroom window open to let a little air in as the temperatures rose overnight, it wasn’t just a gentle breeze which entered.

No sooner was I about to fall into a deep slumber a motorcyclist would roar by on a bike which sounded like it was travelling at about twice the speed of sound. Deafening would not do it justice.

Or as sleep’s sweet embrace wrapped its arms around me, a souped-up car would drive past uttering a sound from its exhaust like they’d just dropped a grenade outside.

Now, granted, I live on a main road so am more than used to a steady undercurrent of road noise. After all, if I had a real problem with it, I shouldn’t have moved there.

And the regular thump of cars driving by, or growl of a motorbike is one thing. But some of these things could be heard for literally minutes later as they roared away.

They were clearly modified to make as head-ringing a noise as possible. I cannot begin to imagine what it must sound like actually stuck inside the tin can creating such a din.

For anyone who has been plagued by ‘boy-racers’ doing donuts or loudly larking about then they have my upmost sympathy - it is an entirely unnecessary piece of antisocial behaviour.

My question, therefore, is simple: what’s the point of driving through residential areas at night and making such a God-forsaken racket?

My knee-jerk response is that it’s good old-fashioned attention seeking. But whose attention are you actually seeking at 11pm at night?

If it is my attention they are looking to pique, then they can consider it a job well done. Albeit my reaction is one simply of loathing and pity rather than any form of admiration.

In truth, I’ve never understood why anyone needs to make their vehicle – be it car or bike – sound akin to a rocket.

One of the great benefits of electric cars is that they purr along about as loudly as your kettle when it’s brewing you the water for a nice cup of tea. Here’s hoping they actually become affordable sooner rather than later.

Many years ago I attended the British Formula 1 Grand Prix – in a journalistic capacity. We were handed earplugs which I thought unnecessary. Foolishly not putting them at first, the sound of those cars at full pelt almost made me feel ill. It was ear-bleeding levels. Those initially derided plugs went in almost immediately.

But on a race track is one thing. Driving the mean streets of Thanet when I – and I assume the majority of folk – are trying to get some shut eye is quite another.

Just pipe down.