Honda Deauville 700

I put nearly 20,000 km on a '99 Deauville over two years, mostly long weekend runs and daily commuting, and it never once let me down. The 647cc twin is smooth and tractable rather than exciting — pull away in second if you like, it doesn't care — and those integrated panniers mean you genuinely just throw a leg over and go, no faff with racks or bags. Shaft drive means zero chain maintenance guilt on wet days, and the 790mm seat is accessible for shorter riders without feeling cramped over distance. The honest weakness is momentum: 258 kg with luggage aboard exposes itself the moment you need to manhandle it in a tight car park or off a camber, and 50 horsepower is fine until a motorway gradient reminds you there's no reserve.

I put 18,000 kilometres on a 2004 Deauville and came to genuinely respect what Honda built here — the integrated panniers are watertight and genuinely capacious, the parallel-twin pulls smoothly from 2,500 rpm without drama, and the revised suspension over the Gen 1 actually handles decent B-road pace without wallowing. At motorway speeds the screen leaves your head in a turbulent no-man's-land unless you're exactly 5'10", and 257 kilograms makes itself known the moment you try to manoeuvre in a petrol station. It's not exciting — Honda made no attempt to make it exciting — but it starts every single morning, returns 22 km/l, and arrives with luggage intact after a 600-kilometre day without beating you up.

I put 18,000 kilometres on a 2009 NT700V and the Deauville's parallel-twin never once felt strained — it pulls with calm, understressed authority from 3,000 rpm that makes A-road touring genuinely relaxing rather than exciting. The integrated panniers are genuinely weatherproof and swallow a week's luggage without drama, and the fairing keeps wind blast off your chest better than bikes costing twice as much. Where it frustrates is the weight: 258 kg feels every single kilogram when you're manoeuvring in a tight car park or picking it up after a slow-speed tip on a camber, and the chassis communicates very little through the bars once you start pushing in bends. It's not a sportbike pretending to be a tourer — it's an honest, slightly underpowered commuter-tourer that rewards riders who've stopped needing to prove something.