He had become an Australian, indistinguishable from the real thing, returning to England and his Cornish boyhood world before discovering the truth of his existence.

"I recall the exact moment. The birth certificate extract showed my unique quartet of Christian names. Strangely, the names next to MOTHER were a replica of the trio I recollected for my elder sister, 25 years my senior. Birthplace correct. Against FATHER was scrawled a single word: unknown. There, at the age of 26, I came to know I was a bastard!"

From these beginnings Gregory charts the story of a life that roams across four continents, encompasses three careers, and spans five decades. At times he's deep in thought, searching for the meaning of existence; at others, cartwheeling across Australia or India with a sometimes ragtag bunch of best friends and associates.

It's an exhilarating, quite unique piece of writing: an enthralling story which embodies a dry sense of humour stemming from the author's British and Australian roots. But then at times it's the reverse, with first-hand accounts from the poorest areas of Kenya, alongside thoughts of protective spiritual auras that might govern our existence.

But considering our miniscule place in a mega-universe, are any of our stories worth telling anyway? This is the question that Gregory deliberates within the final chapter... and one that the reader may fathom their answer to from reading this rather remarkable and informative book.