Motorcycles are like women – fabulous curves, endlessly exciting and inspiring a lifetime of passion in spite of occasional disastrous crashes.
And like women, some are instantly thrilling, but difficult to live with long-term, whereas others take a while for the flame to burst into life, like a winter fire of damp wood.
And so it was with the Transalp. Starting out on a damp Portuguese morning, the combination of slippery roads, light steering caused by that 21in front wheel and the soft long-travel suspension which is a given on any adventure bike with off-road aspirations made progress such a sluggish and nervous affair that I was all for giving up this biking lark and becoming a writer for Tiddlywinks Monthly magazine.
