Nine things we learned from Si King’s Desert Island Discs
Si King has spent decades bringing food and friendship together on screen, he's best known as one half of the much-loved duo the Hairy Bikers. From a career that began as a runner on teen drama Byker Grove, he has now become one of the most familiar faces on British television.
On Desert Island Discs, he speaks to Lauren Laverne about the bond he shared with Dave Myers [the other half of the Hairy Bikers], and how music, food and motorbikes have been constant companions through the highs and lows of his life.
Here are nine things we learned from his Desert Island Discs…
1. His grandfather held lives in his hands
King grew up in Kibblesworth, a pit village in County Durham, where his maternal grandfather worked as a winder, the man responsible for lowering miners safely into the seam. It was a role that carried enormous responsibility and trust.
“It was all about the men's safety,” Si explains to Lauren Laverne, describing how his grandfather became a focal point for the community. It was about trust, and making sure the lads could “walk out into the seam as opposed to having to crawl out through a five-inch gap” – and most importantly, getting the men back out again.
2. His dad introduced him to a world of flavours
Si’s dad was seen as exotic in the local Kibblesworth community. Graham King was a cockney, “from Lambeth, born in the sound of the Bow Bells”. After a stint in the Royal Navy, he worked in the merchant service and would bring home unusual ingredients for Si’s mum Stella to cook. “He was in Shanghai and other places, and my mum used to say, ‘all the other sailors’ wives get knock-off nylons and dodgy Chanel perfume, I get bloody leaves and twigs and star anise.’” Together they experimented, trying to recreate dishes from memory, not quite getting there but opening a whole new way of cooking.
3. After his father died, food became how they coped
When Si was eight, his father died. He picks The Chieftains track Boil the Breakfast Early as his second disc, which was played at his dad’s wake, to remind him of his parents.
We shot this pilot on Roa Island in Barrow-in-Furness where Dave lived at the time. It took us about three years to get it off the ground.Si on the difficulties of getting the Hairy Bikers commissioned
Afterwards, food became a way of coping. “We grieved at the stovetop,” he says. It was how his mum showed care. The two of them became, in his words, “a really tight team”.
But that care came with side effects. “At eight I was eight stone… at 10 I was 10 stone.” His mum sent him to Weight Watchers, where he was the only child, and though he loved the environment it didn’t have the desired effect: “It was brilliant because you'd have the weigh-in and they'd go, ‘Hey, our Simon, you’ve lost two pounds. Well done son. Give our Si a clap.’” All the “ grannies and middle-aged women”, would clap. “Then as I left they’d go, ‘well done son, here’s a Mars bar.’”
4. His love of motorbikes started perhaps a bit too young
Si’s aunt and uncle lived near a crossroads that became notorious for motorcycle crashes. Crashes were frequent enough that bandages were prepared in advance. “My aunt Hilda would say, ‘those sheets are worn out, get the scissors, and then just cut them into bandages.’”
His uncle George had a pit in his garage where he would repair the broken bikes, and Si started to spend time in the pit fiddling with them. From there, King started tinkering, then at the age of nine he started riding too. “My first [time] riding a motorcycle was actually a scooter with bits missing off it. I remember riding it down the back lane and thinking, ‘I love this’. Then I promptly fell off. My uncle George came and picked it back up again because it was way too heavy for me, and he says, ‘go on, go give it another go.’”
5. His early biking days should not be copied
Soon Si was riding through the estate, picking his mum up with shopping balanced on a barely functioning motorbike. “No tax, no MOT, no insurance,” he remembers. There was also a local policeman, known as Ginger Eric, who tried to catch them. It became a running game, spotting him, veering off, escaping across fields. He never did catch them.
6. Byker Grove was his way into television
After taking a chance on a BBC job advert, King found himself working on the pilot of the legendary teen drama series Byker Grove. “I started out as a runner,” he says. As part of the job, he’d drive around a young Ant and Dec, long before they became household names. From there, the work grew into location managing on long shoots, including the first two Harry Potter films. While working on a Catherine Cookson drama, he met a similarly bearded, bike-loving make-up artist called Dave Myers and a lifelong friendship began.
7. The Hairy Bikers began almost by accident
Between TV shoots for the various programmes that Si and Dave were working on, they would take themselves on biking trips to Scotland, riding around and eating good food. That sparked an idea for a TV show. Si wrote down a rough concept and sent it over. Dave showed it around and came back with cautious encouragement: “Nobody thinks it’s rubbish,” Si remembers Dave saying. They developed it slowly. “We shot this pilot on Roa Island in Barrow-in-Furness where Dave lived at the time. It took us about three years to get it off the ground.” Eventually a BBC commissioner greenlit the series. “We got the call saying, ‘lads you've been commissioned’ and we're off.”
8. His most cherished memory came one night in the Namibian desert
Filming the first series took them across the world, including the Namibian desert. One night, miles from anywhere, the scale of it all hit Si.
“I’m lying there with my best mate in the Messum Crater. It’s red earth. And I’ve just sniffed rhinoceros poo in the wild, because they eat myrrh, so it’s the nicest-smelling poop you’ve ever smelled. I was like, ‘this is amazing’. And you could see long-eared foxes, and the dust rising, and Brandberg Mountain set in red as the sun falls behind it. The silhouette comes, and then it’s like a duvet of darkness being pulled over your head, like you’re in bed, and the whole Milky Way lights up. You’re 175 miles away from any human being, any major conurbation. It’s just darkness. And I remember turning to Dave, and we just went…” [Si lets out a snorting laugh.] “We just giggled. We’re like two 12-year-olds let out on the world.”
9. Dave Day showed what he meant to people
Dave passed away from cancer in 2024. Si estimates that through all their adventures they covered the same distance as riding to the moon and back. A few months after Dave passed, 45,000 motorcyclists took part in ‘Dave Day’, riding from the Ace Cafe in London to Barrow-in-Furness to honour Dave’s memory, with tens of thousands of supporters lining the route. “It was an amazing thing,” he says, “to have everybody together in a joyous celebration of your best mate’s life.”
