ANYONE who ever met Mark Colyer, who has died aged 69, will remember three things about him: His incisive (and somewhat trenchant) insights into whatever state of political affairs which caught his imagination; his utter refusal to be limited by his disabilities; and above all, his kindness.

Born in 1953 with severely shortened arms and malformed hands, Mark was not expected to live for long, but in a fashion which was to become typical of him refused to play ball and not only lived, but actually thrived.

What he lacked in arms he more than made up for in energy and ambition. He was one of those people who took his limitations as a challenge.

People told him he would never drive anything but an adapted car, so what did he do? He learned to safely drive a normal car, admittedly at hair-raising speeds, and then topped it by becoming an HGV truck driver, eventually owning his own haulage company.

At the fall of the Berlin Wall, he set off with the intention of buying up Trabant cars from the Eastern Bloc and shipping them back to the UK to sell to collectors.

However, that didn’t prove practical, so he settled for bringing back a case full of bits of the wall which he sold to his friends.

A skilled programmer, he eschewed an adapted keyboard and with the aid of an assorted set of sticks, set up his own server and built some complex websites, including a complex data handling stock control system for a large clothing distributor, as well as an online system for ensuring the vulnerable were OK.

His passion was buses. If you asked him anything about them he would talk for an hour without repeating himself. He finally achieved a lifelong ambition when he was permitted to drive one belonging to Colchester Arts Centre for a few yards.

He took on the management of street barriers and stalls for Colchester market and it was here he re-met with Judith, an old school friend who became his second wife for 14 happy years.

As his underlying Multiple Sclerosis eventually made its presence felt, he became a familiar figure in his motorised wheelchair around the streets of Colchester making friends with the street traders and specially the Big Issue sellers whose problems he took on board.

He is survived by Judith, his son Simon, grandchildren Eve and Bel, by his stepchildren and by countless friends and colleagues. He will be missed.