Anyway, I knew my bike was one of the fastest tourers on the planet, so I thought it would be cool to prove just that. That is the back-story, all of it. My goal was: from where I was to my own sofa in no more than three days. Lucky for me I had managed to find a beautiful route on Motorcycle Diaries. I could have taken the highway, but that would make for a lot less interesting story.

And since I was not bound by anything, I’d see how far I could get.

Having made the trip from Spain back to Holland a few years ago I knew what I had gotten myself into. Over 2500 km of coldness and miserable weather. The start proved to be ok, but the rest of Europe was just plain bad. Just what you need if you want to know if your bike is any good. So after a few emails, phone calls and making sure my outfit was as warm and dry as possible (that means brand-new and many layers), I was good to go. I thought.

I only had what could fit into the panniers, no extra bags. Turned the key, pressed the button and I was off.

Right away, I got stuck in traffic around Lisbon. Early morning on a weekday, it was to be expected. I knew I would have to wait until I could unleash all 200 hp.

When I hit the 17 km long Vasco da Gama bridge, I slowly opened up a little. This was so easy it surprised me again. We’ve had had the pleasure a day before, but I was still not used to it.

The wind protection on the H2SX is almost perfect and allowed me to not only reach high speeds, but also maintain them comfortably for a long time. However, after the bridge I turned away from the highway and hit the back roads. I immediately recognised the area, I had been there before. From then on I would encounter long and flowing roads for many km. This was perfect, not only for the bike, but also to make a decent average as well.

It was a huge transformation, from crazy traffic on the other side of the river to this. But it was kind of ok, because I could do what I wanted: ride fast while traveling.

The few villages I crossed were almost empty. Every time we passed villages like this, we never saw any people. Not during weekdays, not during the weekend, morning or afternoon, just never. And going more and more inland, I saw less and less villages.

The bike just excelled. But since this bike also needed fuel, I still had to stop from time to time. The first time it happened, I immediately understood why the TFT display has several layouts. The sports view is much prettier, but the touring view has a range meter… and I needed that if I did not want to come up empty at some point. I switched to Touring and left it until I got home.

As I fuelled up and entered the shop, it felt like being in a movie. The shop was filled with junk that nobody had touched for a long time, everything was covered in the same colour of dust. Except for the small area behind the door where people still walked. When the attendant wrote me a receipt by hand, the picture was complete. After a small snack I was good to go again.

Immediately after my short stop the road changed. I found myself in a much more interesting area; the roads started to wind a little bit. I felt that I could steer the bike easily, the corners were wide enough and flowing, and every little crest I hit, the front wheel popped up with pleasure. As I cruised along the scenery changed ever so slightly, from desert to woods, to everything in between.

Soon after, I saw the first signs for the Spanish border. Just in time to try out the real top speed of the bike. I should have put on my leathers. With my winter suit I only reached 293 before it got too scary. Going to have to try that again this summer, I’m afraid.

A few kilometres later I crossed the border, which was the first out of three and maybe the most impressive. Or the most memorable, because it was the first one and also the furthest. All other borders were not so new for me. 

In Spain the country looked exactly the same. Not much of a surprise, but still. It’s not bad either, that means more good stuff coming up. One second you’re riding through scenery straight out of a Western movie or the Mars setting of an old sci-fi film, the next moment I swear it looked just like Scotland. And so I covered km after km, flowing through the landscape and having the time of my life. It was not warm, nor cold.

Somehow I decided to keep my thin gloves on until the display reached zero. I had heated grips. I thought they would do the trick.

After having negotiated a very cold but beautiful mountain range, I found myself in ever-changing scenery. There was another thing I had been thinking about for a while. My GPS said that the route for the day would finish around 7 pm. No idea where. I had to find a hotel, but that was still a bit early for my taste. When I stopped for fuel, I took out my phone and GPS to chose a hotel about 120 km further. I finished my coffee and went for the last part.

When I reached the hotel, I had to look twice. I saw buildings, but no light. I vaguely identified the place from the picture and parked the bike. When I came to the door, the man who unlocked the door only spoke Spanish. When I told him I had made a reservation, he brightened up. ‘Why you come by bike?’ Well, that’s a long story… It’s very clear nobody was expecting guests.

The hotel reception lights were out before I came in and the room was freezing. At least the owner tried to help by rolling in two electric heaters and turned them on full power. That took a while, so I went downstairs to order a beer and a sandwich. It was 21.30. I was the only guest, it did not matter, it only added to he surreal scene. When I went to bed I wore everything I had except my suit and used all the sheets and covers. Good night.

The next day, I woke up in a warm room. Finally. I even had warm water in the shower, after having it had running for about 10 minutes. When I looked outside, I saw the world was covered in a thin white coat. This was going to be interesting.   

After a coffee and muffin for breakfast, I put on everything I had and loaded up the bike. There was no too much snow, I reckoned I would be ok when I got to the main road. And I was, because traffic had removed all the snow already. I found myself in a whole different landscape. All the mountains were white and I tried to remember all the movies I could imagine myself in. Breath-taking stuff. However, I was not making much speed.  After the next turn came another, a lake, a bridge, beautiful but not very quick. I changed the GPS to fastest route and kept going.

Then, a cow on the road. The first of an entire herd. Then, horses. A bit further, sheep. The GPS only told me it was about 40 km to the next turn, which was a little village. What it forgot to mention was that it wasn’t salvation, just that little village. Then, another 35 km. Another town. Then another, and another. Only after an hour or so the road got a little bit better. I needed fuel, so I stopped.

Just like the first fuel stop, the scenery changed immediately. Roads opened up, the snow was gone and I could make some speed. The bike loved it too, it could finally show its full potential and loved it. Again, I was surprised about how easy it was to hold high speeds for long periods. This fairing is quite amazing, better than ZZR or Z1000SX. It was all so easy.

France was coming up on the signs and without any hassle I passed the border. Then the GPS told me something much different. 430 km to the next instruction, so I could sit back and relax. This was hig- speed traveling at its best way. I still had to choose if I went to Paris or not, but for now all was ok.

The world around me looked familiar from all the holidays, but covered in white it’s completely different. By the end of the afternoon traffic was getting a bit heavier, it was getting dark again and the weather was not so nice anymore so I decided to find a hotel and stop. I stopped at Tours, which was the perfect place to choose my route for tomorrow. Parked the bike right in view of the security camera, talked some French to the nice lady at the reception and went to bed in a very warm room.

The next morning it was cold, but clear. As I had breakfast, the news was still about traffic in Paris, so the choice was easy. Le Mans, then Rouen, then Lille, and then Belgium. And when I got back on the highway it was another beautiful day. Except every time I passed another hill there was fog in the valleys. With this temperature the fog froze on my visor… small problem. With my left hand I wiped what I could while I tried to follow the cars in front of me, but it was freezing faster than I could wipe. I stopped at every gas station to clean my helmet, but this was not good for a fast bike.

But after stop number four or five, the fog cleared. It was also a little less cold, so it did not freeze anymore. Finally I could see and go. Even in this part of France the roads were almost empty so I could keep going and go fast. I was loving it. Hard to believe I was going to be home soon. In Rouen the GPS told me to go straight through the centre of town. Strange, but ok.

It was a little break from the highway and maybe somebody saw the bike and likes it. Ten minutes later, I was back on the highway. Lille and Calais appeared on the signs, so Belgium was also close. Here, traffic was getting heavier. All the trucks going to Belgium and England passed this way, so no more speed records. I passed another border and it was even busier.

Welcome to Belgium… but I remembered the places I passed, it was less than two hours now. In Antwerp I really hit a traffic jam. But I was still on a bike, so I used the one big advantage and filtered through in a very short time. Then the last fuel stop. I would be home before dark. When I started this journey, I thought how fitting it would be to ride the first bike of this kind to the Netherlands.

Only two years ago I was the first to ride its predecessor on the road and also to leave the country to the UK. Now, it’s the other way. But when I passed the border, there were no cheers, no flags, no waving. Of course not. It was just me and the bike on a road I rode so many times. Then a few more cities. I tried to maintain the speed limit but it was difficult after three days. I wanted to go back. Rotterdam came up, then my exit. Almost there. When I left the highway I was calm and happy.

Just a few more Streets and I would have finished the most epic journey in years. Only three days, but so many adventures. Right, left, another left, round the back, open the gate, park the bike, turn the key. Silence. After 2800 km I made it. I am home. That was winter 2018 for me, I’m not getting outside for a week. I am done, but I did it.

The End

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