Honda Africa Twin AS long-term review update one | A camping trip gives Steve tech teething pains

Before I get into detail on the Honda Africa Twin AS adventure bike, let me start by saying this: Android Auto is the worst thing to happen to motorcycling, ever.

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• Update two: Aftermarket luggage for the ATAS
• Update three: Honda’s off-road school with the ATAS
• Update four: 12 hours and 445 miles for cauliflower

With running-in miles to click off and the slimmest window of opportunity for an adventure, I ditch work early and throw my camping gear into a roll bag. Destination: Robin Hood’s Bay – an old favourite that I’ve not revisited for almost a decade.

I connect my phone to the Africa Twin’s USB and, for the briefest moment, my GMaps route appears on the screen (the dream!). But as I’m riding, it’s replaced by the black screen of doom. ‘Must connect Bluetooth headset’ it insists. I don’t have one. I can’t cancel the message without stopping, and it persistently reappears, minimising the sat nav on my phone each time. 

One full teeth-grinding, sweary hour later I’m still in my hometown, trying to get these two ‘smart’ devices to decide which one is in charge. I find myself in a sub-menu I can’t get out of and decide enough is enough. I plug the phone into a travel battery I’ve brought with me, kill the Bluetooth and the rest of the near four-hour ride is pure harmony, each device going about its business oblivious of the other.

Leaving the tech gremlins behind, bloody hell the Africa Twin is lovely. I was already a fan of the styling, the purposeful stance and HRC colours – but it’s not just a shiny ornament. Thanks to a 7% increase in torque that comes 750rpm lower in the rev range, the rorty engine – all deep growl and grunt – packs far more of a punch than its 101bhp and 83lb.ft peak outputs would suggest.

It’s a big bike (it dwarfs editor Rich’s new R1300GS), but my 31in inside legs can reach the floor. The new 19in front wheel, reduced suspension travel (20mm less than the ’23 bike) and semi-active suspension winding off as you stop, providing a more forgiving seat height.

The finish seems more lustrous than previous generations, too. Handling and suspension? As I carve my way through the North Yorks Moors its big ticks for both with the ATAS’s newly boosted road focus really upping its touring credentials. With its clever Showa bouncy bits and Bridgestone A41 adventure bike tyres, it feels beautifully composed and controlled, and it’s effortless to dial in settings for extra pillion or luggage weight.

The seat is a bit hard after a few hours, though, and the old-school non-adaptive stop/start cruise control is annoying after being spoiled last year with a radar-assisted Yamaha – and it’s hard to operate for any human without freakishly long thumbs, too.

As I pull up at the campsite, the owner – clearly a fan (of Africa Twins, not me) wants to know if it’s as good as it looks. It’s early days, but it definitely seems to be. Just don’t ask about the connectivity…