To the 4 Capes of Europe with the Versys 1100 – Part 3: South Cape
Our editorial team is not afraid of a challenge. In 2023, we rode through 15 countries in a single day; last year, we sent the Versys 1000 on A41 road tyres from Brussels to Dakar; and this year, we want to visit the four capes of mainland Europe on a single set of tyres and, yes, with a single motorcycle. That’s over 13,000 km. In the previous installments of this fine four-part series we travelled to the Finnish East Cape and shivered further north. Enough of the freezing cold, as part three takes us to Europe’s southernmost cape, practically within arm’s reach of Africa!
Day One: Biarritz or Bust
Tarifa technically isn’t a cape, but it is the southernmost point of Europe. And thus the third stop in this extreme odyssey. Incidentally, given that the origin of the word ‘tariff’ lies there, it’s rather topical these days for anyone following the American madness. According to the odometer, the Kawasaki Versys and Bridgestone T33s have nearly 10.000 kilometers on them. And that shows, especially on the Bridgestones, which have endured the torture of the northern and western roads impressively well, but not without scars. It’s obvious what the tyres endured on sand-salted roads. You might as well go touring on sandpaper. And yet there are still about 2.500 kilometers to go, to Tarifa. And then there is the stretch to the finish in Cabo da Roca.
Autoroute, Toll, Refuel… repeat
Biarritz in one shot. That’s the goal for our first stage. Unfortunately, that stage begins on the motorway. Autoroute, toll, fuel… repeat. Kilometers upon kilometers. Deadly dull, and surely murderous for the already tormented tyres. We rigorously stick to the maximum allowed speed, but check the rubber at every stop. The limit hasn’t been reached yet, but it’s really close. Suddenly, we start doubting the feasibility of this expedition, which will push the counter past 13.000 km. But at each fuel stop, it turns out the rubber digests the French autoroute better than its northern counterparts. Wear is minimal. In the little steering work, limited to an exit at a gas station or the odd roundabout, the T33’s handling surprises positively, especially given their current mileage. There’s no noticeable ‘notch’ in the steering behavior, and grip remains constant regardless of lean angle. That gives us courage to keep our eyes fixed on Biarritz and the Pyrenean hills waiting there.
584 km
Few things kill motivation more than seeing “next exit in 584 kilometers” appear on the TomTom, but that’s roughly the distance between Paris and Bordeaux. Here, the Kawasaki Versys shines thanks to its lack of vibration, the seat comfort, and riding position. We ourselves look for something to focus on mentally, since we stubbornly refuse to ride with music in our helmets. The built-in headset prodding the base of the skull behind the left ear only fuels our aversion. And then we discover the lean angle indicator on the dashboard. For kilometer after kilometer, we play the acrobat in the saddle, trying to create lean angle on this endless straight. We almost get seasick trying to use the full tread width of the T33. Bye-bye boredom! The few cars that overtake us look at us as if we’re crazy, but at least it keeps us busy until our legs tell us it’s time to call it a day.
Fish & Chips
And then everything changes. North of Bordeaux, dark clouds gather, and we cover the last 200 kilometers almost entirely on wet tarmac, without catching a single drop of rain ourselves. When it does threaten, we stop for dinner: the most disgusting fish & chips ever. And the tyres? They don’t wear at all on wet asphalt. That’s the silver lining…
Winding Route
After an overnight in Anglet near Biarritz, the mission is to make it past Madrid, on a route with as few straight lines as possible for stage 2. The TomTom plots a winding route, and we’re determined to make the most of it. Roads are still damp in the morning, but the T33 performs brilliantly. So does the Versys 1100. We keep it in ‘Sport’ mode, using it to feed throttle as smoothly as possible mid-corner. The Kawasaki complies willingly, its quickshifter letting us short-shift deliciously out of bends.
ETA
Now and then the TomTom sends us across gorgeous stretches of road through forests virtually untouched by human settlement. My God, the Basque Country is beautiful. Without effort, I erase chicken strips left and right, and the lean angle indicator shows 41° on both sides. The T33s may be sport touring tyres, but they don’t get in the way of fun on the Versys one bit. In any gear, at any revs, there’s pulling power without complaint. The sore backside from yesterday’s 11-hour slog barely registers, my legs are fresh, and I can fully enjoy what the region has to offer – in this case, the Sierra de Cebollera National Park.
Madrid
But ETA countdown or not, you don’t make quick progress when you’re zigzagging like this. Somewhere lost in the Burgos-Valladolid-Zaragoza triangle, I estimate how far I want to get today. Toledo seems realistic, so I reset the TomTom to ‘fastest route’. That means motorway again, and the fun’s over. Heading toward Madrid, I watch the temperature on the dashboard climb by a degree every 20 km, peaking at 29°C just before the city.
After passing the capitol of Spain, I’m pleasantly surprised to see that Toledo to Málaga is only about 400 km. We have to be at the airport by 4 p.m. to pick up the photographer. The TomTom says ETA 16:15, but without pushing too hard we shave it to 15:15. Up to Ciudad Real the road is flat and straight, but then we enter the Sierra de Andújar Natural Park, and once again we feast on a string of marvelous, winding roads. At the Sierras Subbéticas Natural Park, the ‘offroad’ setting unexpectedly kicks in on the route planner. The stretch ends up 4 km longer than expected, and I tiptoe over it like on eggshells, hoping not to puncture a tyre. Something different, at least.
Antequera-Torreguadiaro
Somewhere near Antequera, the landscape changes. All vegetation has made way for olive groves, and I wonder how on earth that works in terms of biodiversity. The temperature stays bearable until I reach halfway into the Montes de Málaga Natural Park. Again, the needle heads toward 30°C, but one last rear tyre check reassures me: Tarifa should be no problem, and the western cape of Portugal – this journey’s endpoint – still seems within reach too. The wear bars still haven’t been touched. Photographer Manu lands right on time, and with his rental Dacia in tow, we ride toward Tarifa, once more via a 220 km twisty route plotted on the TomTom in search of photo spots. It takes only one mountain road to find them, and from there we can work selectively.
Europe’s Greatest Playground
The roads between Málaga and Tarifa, via Ronda, might well be Europe’s greatest playground. There’s barely a straight stretch worthy of the name in the last 90 km. I flow through the bends smoothly, letting go of the urge to rush to the next one. Manu, however, struggles to keep up, his airline sandwich still sitting heavy as he fights to hold on through this paved rollercoaster. In the end, we save Tarifa itself for the following morning and stop for the night in Torreguadiaro, lured in by a local biker bar and a hotel across the street.
Playa Chica
At breakfast, a school of dolphins seems to invite us to set sail toward Tarifa. We can’t quite reach the southernmost tip – it’s military territory – so Playa Chica it is. Here, where the Mediterranean lies to the left and the Atlantic Ocean to the right, I hand the Versys and T33s over to Manu. He still has some 700 km to cover, but a final tyre check suggests it’ll be fine with the wear bars still untouched. Incredible, given the condition the tyres were in three days ago. Without the grinding punishment of the earlier capes, the T33s could probably have made it all the way back to Belgium. Manu loads up, immediately loses a pair of gloves, but looks eager. The Kawasaki Versys 1100 has delivered everything for a deeply satisfying three-day ride, proving itself a rock-solid machine. After two roundabouts, we understand why Manu got seasick in the Dacia Sandero, and we can only wish he too could do the rest of the journey, and the full return, on the Versys 1100 and T33s. They left us wanting more.
