THE MIGHT OF MARMITE

It’s almost forty years since I saw my first MZ ES250/2 Trophy: immaculate, blue and resplendent with leg shields, tucked away in the back corner of the showroom. Its quirky looks appealed as much as the £100 price tag on the headlight. But I was 21 with a Honda CB900 to feed and a CD175 for work. I forgot about her and moved on.

I’ve had bikes since I turned 17, never been without one. New and old but now with a RealClassic subscription and a drip feed of interesting machines, I was feeling the urge to join in. But with what? In 40 years I’ve learnt value and reputation aren’t proportionate to the joy or rewards of ownership. That CD175 is remembered more fondly than the 900. A BMW R1200RT left no impression, but an ex-police R80RT I wish I’d never sold. I wanted something interesting which I hadn’t owned before, and a complete contrast to my modern parallel twin.

An early 1990s Ducati 900SS was Plan A. I’d pursued one in 1993 but my Guzzi Le Mans was truculent on the way to view and we’d arrived moments after