ROAD TRIP SPECIAL
The Honda NT1100 and BMW S1000XR tackle sports touring at different speeds – but which is best for a dash round north Wales?
By Martin Fitz-Gibbons Photography Jason Critchell
Jagged shards of rock burst free from towering mountains, trying to pierce the sky. Vast lakes, carved into the landscape by epic glaciers tens of thousands of years ago, sparkle and shimmer under the low afternoon sun. Dizzying drops, bucolic vistas and sinuous strips of empty road delicately thread these patchwork worlds together.
Snowdonia has the lot. In fact, north Wales is such a breathtaking place to ride that it self-selects as our destination now that spring has sprung. We’re heading west for three days and two nights of sports-touring idyll. In the ‘hare’ corner is BMW’s S1000XR, a jacked-up superbike with more high-tech tricks than Penn & Teller, prodigious power and a flashy race-rep paint job. And in the ‘tortoise’ corner is Honda’s NT1100, an approachable everyday all-rounder carved from pure modesty, complete with mutated maxi-scoot styling and a mature palette of beige, blue or black.
The two bikes sit at opposite ends of the sports-tourer spectrum, though both share a smidge of adventure-bike influence, and both promise to be the ideal platform from which to enjoy a midweek, cross-country getaway.
Let’s get ready to trundle
Before romping round Wales comes the small matter of getting there. The first few hours of multi-lane mile munching pass with effortless ease aboard the NT1100. Well, effortless once I’ve sorted out the screen. It’s one of the parts that’s been ‘upgraded’ for 2025, Honda claiming its height-adjustment system ‘can now be operated one handed by the rider from a seated position’. Leaving Bike’s palatial Peterborough nerve centre, I have the screen set to its tallest height, expecting to be cosseted in a cocoon of calm. Instead, I get blurred eyeballs and battered eardrums courtesy of brutal buffeting. By the first roundabout – less than a mile from home – my left hand reaches for this new-fangled height adjuster. No joy. In the end I have to set the cruise control, stand up, lean forward and reach over with both hands just to drop the screen down to the middle of its range. Shall we start over again?
Now the NT begins to welcome me like a roaring fire in an old pub. Its enlarged seat is deep, wide and comfortable. Ergonomics are nicely balanced, causing no stresses or strains in knees, wrists or back. And the 1084cc parallel twin grumbles away softly, pulsing politely from relaxed revs. Shared with the Africa Twin, it’s a long-stroke design so isn’t meant to be worked hard. The redline’s at just 8000rpm, peak torque comes down at 5500rpm, but in practice you find yourself riding around at even lower revs.
In part that’s down to this bike’s Dual Clutch Transmission. Honda have been updating and improving their beloved self-shifting auto gearbox for 15 years, and on the latest NT it now listens to a new lean-sensing IMU. This means it shouldn’t try to do anything daft such as change gear while you’re cranked over. In default ‘Drive’ mode it’s still keen to shift gears early – you can find yourself in fifth at just 30mph. But switching to ‘S3’, the sportiest of three sports settings, revs are held for longer, making it feel less like a two-wheeled fuel-saving algorithm and more like a normal bike.
Now we’re cooking. Which reminds me – let’s fire up the standard-fit heated grips. Sixteen buttons on the left cluster, another half-dozen on the right… but none marked ‘heated grips’. Turns out you need to press ‘Fn’ (right forefinger), then a different up/down toggle (left forefinger) to turn them on. Of course you do. Silly me.
Right then. With screen height set, DCT sorted and feeling regained in my fingers, now we’re golden. The NT flows like warm Horlicks through congested Cambridgeshire A-roads, devours the M6 in a single gulp, and spits me out at the end of the M54 within sight of the Welsh border. More than a hundred miles of ease and efficiency, once those few early-morning wrinkles have been ironed out.
We stop for coffee, but road-testing new-boy Lewis Bishop looks to be in no need of caffeine after his first taste of the S1000XR. ‘What a bike,’ he gasps. ‘I think I may need to sell my R1300GS and get one of these instead.’ Blimey. I think we’ve had quite different starts to our day.
Sublime to the ridiculous
The stark difference between the two bikes is evident from the first press of their starters. Where the Honda respectfully rumbles into life, the BMW shatters the silence with a fast-paced, feral, impatient howl through its Akrapovic. This, I suspect, is the S1000XR’s idea of a warning call.
We’ve seen superbike engines slotted into versatile machines before, from R1s in Fazers, to Fireblades in CBFs, to GSX-Rs in GSX-Ss. But few, if any, have retained so much sharp-edged sports character. Alright, in pure technical terms this isn’t quite a full-fat S1000RR lump – there’s no ShiftCam variable valve system, and peak power has been trimmed from over 200bhp to ‘just’ 168bhp. But the S1000XR feels focused, like it means business.
After the Honda’s plush perch, the BMW’s seat seems thin, tall and firm. Brakes bite with intensity and immediacy. Even letting out the clutch lever commands attention – partly because the Honda doesn’t have one, but mostly because the BMW’s tall first gear and light feeling flywheel mean it’s actually quite easy to stall.
Picking up Shropshire B-roads we pass through Knockin (complete with perfectly named ‘The Knockin Shop’), slip seamlessly over the border, and pick up signs for beautiful Bala. Each mile is prettier than the last, hedgerow-lined countryside expanding out into wide-open views of mist-topped hills, brief dives through tree-lined tunnels, before eventually, the rest of the world falls away completely. It’s just two bikes, one road, romping along rolling, rugged, middle-of-nowhere splendour.
The S1000XR relishes this empty space. It feels like releasing a tiger from a zoo cage. Above 7000rpm the inline four really comes alive – not in a peaky, powerbandy sense; it’s just part of the motor’s sporty DNA. Peak torque is uncovered way up at 9250rpm (higher than the Honda even revs), meaning every extra rpm brings the motor closer towards its happy place, simultaneously becoming stronger as it travels faster.
Once you get the S1000XR shifting, the rest of the bike loves it, too. Swapping from ‘Road’ to ‘Dynamic’ mode takes one push of one button and makes a noticeable difference. The engine feels more crisp. The semi-active suspension firms up, making it tight and taut without being harsh. The two-way quickshifter is a joy too, slicing through gears far more smoothly than any of BMW’s boxer-engined bikes, and feeling barely any slower or slicker than Honda’s DCT set-up.
As we drop into Bala after a fantastic, brain-clearing yomp, the price to be paid for the XR’s firepower is evident. The BMW is down to its final few litres of fuel, with a message on the TFT instructing me to fill up immediately. Despite having almost exactly the same-sized tank, the NT hasn’t even started to sweat. At the pumps, the BMW costs 20 per cent more to fill up, despite covering the same distance as the Honda at (roughly) the same speeds. Yeouch.
The humble hustler
In the morning we head out through the Tryweryn Valley. It’s a beautiful ride, the quiet A-road snaking slowly around the shore of a huge reservoir, while distant peaks nuzzle gently up through a thin layer of low cloud. Sadly, it’s also the spot where the village of Capel Celyn once stood, before it was intentionally flooded in the 1960s to create said reservoir.
Back on the NT1100, it’s safe to say the Honda doesn’t have much of a concealed dark side. The pace naturally picks up as we slip onto the majestic B4391, which twists and turns spectacularly out through blonde-tufted wilderness, crossing stone bridges and cattle grids along the way. It’s easily the best riding we’ve come across so far, and the NT1100 proves pretty up for the challenge, steering steadily but confidently on its excellent Metzeler Roadtec 01 tyres.
The Honda sits you lower than the BMW, which exaggerates the perception that it’s a long bike – although on paper the NT’s wheelbase is actually shorter than the XR’s. You can sense that the Honda’s carrying more weight (a measured 264kg fuelled up versus the XR’s 237kg) while the slightly jiggly suspension movement makes it clear this isn’t a bike that wants to be chucked about too aggressively.
Ah – I’ve left it in ‘Tour’ mode, whereas this kind of riding surely demands a gnarlier ‘Sport’ setting. Only there isn’t one. Still, I’m sure I can firm up the NT’s fancy new semi-active suspension at the push of a button, to try to bring it closer to the BMW’s sublime roadholding and precision. Nope again: I can’t change the Honda’s damping on the move; and it’s already in the hardest setting anyway.
Still, even if it doesn’t match the BMW’s high-speed control and composure, the semi-active system is still pretty capable. Lewis is impressed, reckoning it gives a substantial handling improvement over the previous NT1100. ‘It feels a lot tighter,’ he declares. ‘It’s more composed, more balanced. The old bike didn’t feel as stable, and it seemed like the front wanted to run wide. This semi-active suspension has transformed the handling.’
The NT’s motor hasn’t experienced a similar a transformation, however. For 2025 it gets larger airbox intakes, longer trumpets, plus a new crank, con rods and pistons, all of which Honda say adds a hefty seven per cent midrange boost. From onboard, it still feels like the same Africa Twin motor to me. I find the faux-V-twin firing intervals quite charming though, and the low-revving character means all the performance is served up generously and easily. It’s not like the power’s all tucked away on a high shelf; it’s there, right in front of you, staring you in the face.
There’s plenty of it to charge along at a fair old lick, too. On paper the NT makes a shade over 100bhp, which likely means more than 90bhp at the rear tyre. Switching DCT to manual mode improves the sense of connection. Changing gears with finger triggers isn’t any less ‘involving’ than knocking a two-way quickshifter lever up and down with your toes. But it’s fair to say the NT’s delivery is all very measured, very considered. It hustles with humility, rather than leaping about luridly.
Naked aggression
We carry on north up through beautiful Betws-y-Coed, then out west again to begin climbing along the incredible Llanberis Pass, a tight and twisty tourist hotspot slicing sweetly between the Glyder mountain range and Snowdon itself – today looking suitably resplendent with its snow-capped peak. The area’s popular with walkers and rock climbers, but it’s hard to imagine anyone round here getting more of a rush today than from riding an S1000XR.
It’s not the XR’s outright power or speed that delivers such a thrilling ride – self-preservation and common decency cuts in long before you even approach the foothills of trying to go properly tonto. Instead, the BMW feels so lively thanks to its delivery. It’s snappy and zappy, an engine that picks up and gathers speed with a rabid appetite. Open the throttle with intent and the XR gives you a glimpse of the implausible potency it’s packing. You roll off the throttle feeling in awe of it all.
The other side is the S1000XR’s supremely composed chassis. After a few hours of chucking the Honda around, I climb back on the BMW and let muscle memory push the handlebars. At the first bend, the XR snaps onto its side so hard and fast I have to pick it back up to avoid running into the inside verge. It feels like I’m aboard a four-cylinder supermoto. Note to self: less effort needed. And there’s no apparent trade-off in stability – the XR’s not just more animated and accurate, it’s solid at speed, too. ‘The S1000XR feels so light and so agile,’ enthuses Lewis. ‘I love the way it steers so effortlessly and drops into corners with such composure and incredible ease. Its sporty side totally outshines the Honda.’
For sure. But I wouldn’t say the same for its touring side. With the sun starting to sink and the temperature dropping starkly, I’m reminded how the XR’s wind protection is less generous than expected. With slim bodywork and a short screen to tuck in behind, it feels noticeably colder from onboard than the wide, well-shielded NT.
The BMW feels tingly too, especially when you’re holding it at a steady speed, where it revs far higher than the Honda. On the steady ride back to the hotel my fingers notice high-frequency vibrations through the ’bars, while the small mirrors quite often get blurry. I’m definitely fidgeting around in the BMW’s skinny seat more, too. Thinking ahead to the 200-mile ride home tomorrow, and with temperatures forecast to be a tad nippy in the morning, I surprise myself by quietly longing for the easy life offered by the Honda.
Approaching the finish
After brushing a bit of frost off the bikes in the morning, we wave a fond farewell to Wales and reluctantly retrace our way home. Lewis remains besotted by the BMW. ‘I much prefer the XR,’ he grins, as if it needed to be said out loud. ‘And not just because of its fiery engine. I think it’s more rounded, too. It can do miles in reasonable comfort and still give massive thrills. The Honda makes a great tourer, and it’s one of the comfiest bikes I’ve ever ridden, but that’s all it does. It feels a bit soul-less.’
He has a point. We already knew the BMW is more ‘sports’ and the Honda more ‘tourer’ – that’s obvious. What we wanted to answer is which bike is better at bringing the two worlds together. And it’s a fair conclusion to say the BMW is better at being a tourer than the Honda is at feeling sporty. So S1000XR wins, right?
Not yet: there’s still the slightly vulgar topic of money. The NT, in this flagship spec with electronic suspension and DCT, is £14,099. That’s for everything you see here: panniers, heated grips, centrestand, the lot. That’s less than the S1000XR, which starts at £16,790 in bare-bones spec. Step up to the TE with most of the goodies and you’re at £18,340. Add the M Package and the other extras on our test bike and the bill hits a towering £21,770, or well over 50 per cent more than the NT. ‘Even with the huge price difference, I’d still choose the XR,’ says Lewis, confidently.
Well, I wouldn’t. It might be the 20-year age difference between us, but I’m not sure I could bring myself to stump up that much cash for faster steering, a noisier exhaust and a glut of horsepower I’d rarely use. The NT isn’t perfect – it is a bit lacking aesthetically and dynamically next to the action-packed XR, and some aspects of the Honda’s controls and interface are frustrating, sure. But it feels a lot more grounded in reality, it’s much easier-going than the ever-frenetic XR, and it’s so much cheaper both to buy and to run. It’s the bike I’d rather take sports touring.
Final score: Hare 1 – 1 Tortoise.
