SPOKES: A visit to Britain's MCN Motorcycle Show

LONDON - The MCN Motorcycle Show at London’s Excel Centre plays the little fat brother to the monster Motorcycle Live Show at Birmingham’s NEC. It’s less than half the size and almost twice as expensive to attend, which doesn’t bode well. This may explain why the place was half empty. Admittedly, it was a school day afternoon but that was also the case when I went to the NEC show, and the place was packed.

Maybe it’s a little unfair to compare the two. This is London, after all, and British biking has always had its heart in the Midlands. Still, I couldn’t help feeling underwhelmed, until Daniel, a biker mate, pointed out that at least we’d be able to interact with the luscious objects on display with impunity. With that thought in mind, we marched on.

First stop, BMW. I got another chance to drool over the S1000 RR, but Daniel was more interested in the R1000GS and the more rugged BMW touring bikes. This offered a chance for a second look as, by now, I’d have rushed over to Ducati to get intimate with the Panigale.

It's one thing to go to a bike show on your own and another matter entirely to go with a mate who enjoys the whole biking thing without having a knife forced to his throat. It’s even better when said mate invites you to look at something from a different angle and appreciate it from another point of view. I concluded that’s it’s all too easy to fix your heart on something at the detriment of the other... actually, isn’t this true of life? Right on brothers and sisters.

Speaking of the fairer sex, I do wish bike manufacturers and/or bike-related companies would stop employing all these grinning girls in their fancy get-ups, draped over bikes and generally putting it about, in order to solicit attention, ultimately, for their sponsors. It doesn’t reflect well on us bikers, I feel. I mentioned this to Daniel just as a spandex-clad blonde wiggled past, but I don’t think he heard me.

I digress. There is little doubt that when it comes to quality, BMW has it in the bag. Their bikes don’t come cheap, but in terms of design and build, they’ve always been in the lead. They may not have the prettiest bikes (the S1000 RR being the exception), but you know you could rely on one with your last buck.

We popped over to the Triumph stand and discussed the latest headlights on the Street and Speed Triple. After being assured by the manufacturers that I’d get used to them when they first replaced the original bug-eyed ones a few years ago, I’m still not. In fact, I’m even more convinced Triumph got this one wrong. Daniel pointed out that, like BMW, they’re very well built and finished, so why, then, do they stick on those cheap plastic mirrors? To be honest I hadn’t given this a second thought, but he has a point. The devil, after all, is in the detail. Why go to all that effort to make a great bike, only to accessorize it with tack? In fairness to Triumph, this is a minor niggle, I’m more concerned about the deviation of outstanding design in order to placate the aesthetics of modernity (in short, it doesn’t have to look all sci-fi for it to be innovative), but it’s certainly something that needs to be addressed.

I was keen to have another dribble at Suzuki’s GSX 750r, but disappointingly, they’d decided not to show one. I’m afraid this rather careless omission was indicative of a very haphazard show. When Norton told me they weren’t going to do the London Show, I was a little surprised. Ironically, in hindsight, if they had done, I’d have been flabbergasted. There were only eight manufacturers, and one of them was Victory Motorcycles (?). No Harley, KTM, Husqvarana or MV Augusta... why had these major players stayed away? I looked around the sparsely populated hall and came to my own conclusion.

The Kawasaki stand seemed a bit lost in the corner. It was also pitted against Ducati, and apart from the Classic Bike stand, this was the place to be. It wasn’t just the Panigale that captivated me (I just can’t stop looking at it). I noticed I was staring at the Diaval a bit too much for my liking.

I’m not a cruiser sort of a chap, but the Diaval is different. It manages to nod at the cruiser thing whilst maintaining its own unique style, which is effortlessly aggressive. At certain angles it looks like it’s going to bite your head off, yet it combines this with elements of stark beauty. The organic pipework for instance, the carbon fiber finish and that enormous, glorious, fat rear tire straight out of Judge Dredd. I decided that I really fancied it, possibly in a way that’s illegal.

I was just putting my tongue back in its place when the Excel Centre suddenly exploded with a magnificent, magical sound. Daniel and I were drawn to the source of this commotion like zombies catching the scent of flesh. On the stage was a six-cylinder 250cc Honda, as ridden by the late, great Mike Hailwood. It was very much alive and was cheerfully revved for a few minutes by a Honda rep. The sound wasn’t dissimilar to a dozen large chainsaws being played through a Marshall stack, yet it was a joy to hear, especially when exacerbated by the smell of Castrol R.

After pushing my way the front of the stage for a closer look we returned to the show. We spent a while looking at (modern) Hondas. Daniel was very taken with the black CBR1000, but we both agreed the front headlight spoiled its fine features. There seems to be a pattern emerging here. After a bit of a sit on the R1 in the Yamaha stand, we wandered to the Classic Bike stand, pausing en route for a chat with Stahlkoffer, a British firm that makes rugged metal panniers for the more seriously minded traveler. It’s something I’ve always fancied doing, taking a bike over Europe, riding for miles on empty roads, pitching camp when one feels like it, eating soup over a gas stove... staying in a hotel.

No silly headlights or LEDs here, just good honest round ones with bulbs... look, don’t let me give you the impression I’m some sort of luddite who objects to change; I just like my headlights to look like headlights as opposed to a Power Rangers face.

Daniel and I spent a lot of time in this part of the show, in many respects it made up for the lack of manufacturer stands and justified the cost of the ticket in. Classic bikes are interesting because you get an overview of motorcycling as whole, what worked, what didn’t. Take the Aerial Square Four, for instance, a beautiful lump of metal from the 1940s. Instead of having its cylinders side by side or in a V shape, the Aerial has two in front and two right behind these. In theory, fine, but in practical terms it was impossible to adequately cool the rear two pistons which led to a lot of engine seizures.

Not all the classic bikes needed to be ancient, either. There was a wonderful example of a 1979 Honda CBX with its vast six-cylinder engine. It’s over 30 years old yet almost looks contemporary.

The other aspect to a classic bike is the time and effort that’s gone into restoring them. It’s not just a question of chucking the machine at your local garage and waiting for the call to pick it up. You need to be wholly dedicated to the cause to the point of obsession. Spares need to be sought after, which may see you traipsing over the globe before you’ve even picked up a spanner [wrench]. Each bike is a testament to the people that restore them, and unlike a piece of furniture or a prized ceramic, a motorcycle is a living object, so, after all that too-ing and fro-ing, the hours in the shed with no dinner, the skinned knuckles, you don’t just end up with an object of desire, you can physically hear it come to life and then, get on it and ride it away! That’s rather magical don’t you think?

Rather irksomely, however, was a fine example of my very own Bonneville, standing in gleaming magnificence without a drip of oil or a drip tray in sight. At the time of writing, my bike has began to missfire (electronics or carburetion are to blame, each aspect requiring painstaking investigation), so my joy at witnessing this embodiment of perfection was somewhat curtailed. It’s one thing to sit dreaming of owning a garage full of Panigales, GSXs and Speed Triples, another entirely to see your bike, actually a vastly superior version of it, standing there glinting at you, for all intents and purposes, showing off.

This was the final straw. I’d had enough. I muttered something dark to Daniel and we decided to get a beer. Over what must have been the most expensive pint of lager I’ve ever had, we ruminated on the show. It had been an enjoyable afternoon but both felt a little stretched by the cost of entry and the lack of content therein.

Then we agreed to go next year.

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About Jamie Dwelly:

UK-based James “Jamie” Dwelly has been riding bikes since he was eight, started out on an 80cc Yamaha converted by his biker dad for off-road usage. When his mother realized his passion wasn't just a passing “kid fad,” Jamie got a second hand yz1000e Yam, which he happily rode for another three years before retiring at the grand of age of 12 when an accident left him with a perforated disc in his back. At 18, Jamie bought a Yamaha RD200 and has never been without a bike since. After a succession of fast, beautiful bikes, he currently owns a 1976 Triumph Bonneville and is eyeing up another ludicrously nippy crotch rocket to sate his lust for speed. E-mail Jamie at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .