BikeTest/ BMW R1200RT: It was when my lightweight, waterproof overtrousers beat themselves to death in the Swiss mountains that I began to doubt the sanity of my plan for a high-speed blast across a good chunk of western Europe.
It had seemed a good idea. What better way to drink in the sights, sounds and smells of the Continent than on a strong contender for the title of best touring motorcycle, the BMW R1200RT?
My partner, the professor, agreed to be pillion for this experiment. As a long-time owner of soft-top cars, she would also be the judge of whether two wheels were good, but four wheels better.
The R series uses the trademark BMW opposed twin-cylinder layout, despite the width and vulnerability of cylinders sticking out each side. The engine layout also has the benefit of shielding the rider's feet from rain, which became quite important in the mountains.
The R1200RT has a bulbous fairing that makes a very large hole in the air - behind which we sheltered, enjoying the secure handling as we hurtled from the mouth of the Channel Tunnel to Reims before it got too late and too cold for our minimal biking gear.
The screen is electrically adjustable. Around town, I had it low. On the French autoroutes - with my focus further away - I raised it enough to keep all the buffeting away from my helmet. It was so effective that I found earplugs unnecessary. Sadly, that was not the case for my passenger, who had to cope with the disturbed airflow behind me.
Being able to dispense with earplugs meant I could more easily hear directions from the professor, who folded paper maps at high speed and gave calm directions over the intercom. Anyone unlucky enough to have neither an intercom nor a pillion professor should invest in a satellite navigation system, which BMW offers as an option. We could also have done with one of the other options, a luggage box behind the pillion.
The bike may have only a little more than 100 horsepower, but it had enough acceleration for me to worry about losing my map reader off the back if I opened the throttle too sharply. A brief stop to have a box fitted made the professor's perch more secure and me more confident about overtaking.
And such manoeuvres are something the BMW excels at. On the tight and twisty roads into and across Switzerland, it handled far better than a bike laden with two people and enough guidebooks to cross a continent has a right to.
When we emerged blinking from the final tunnel on the road to Aosta, in the Italian Alps, we picked our turning point - Florence. Once there, challenged by narrow streets and a tortuous one-way system, the BMW disgraced itself by starting to overheat. In fairness, it lost its cool only a moment before I did.
Crossing back into Switzerland brought the first really vile weather.
Ironically, given that we had chosen a scenic route, all we saw was the inside of thunderstorms. BMW's heated handlebar grips did a great job of warming my cold hands, but the professor had no such luxury. This was also where curious eddies of air around the bodywork finished off my lightweight waterproof overtrousers.
We failed to see much of Austria (low cloud, rain), or any of Liechtenstein (even lower cloud, even more rain). But being on a bike at least made it easier to look for better weather by keeping our itinerary flexible. At the end of each day, I would pull up right outside a likely-looking hotel, and the professor would vault in and inquire about vacancies.
Following the Romantic Road to Neuschwanstein in Bavaria, home to tranquil green valleys and the most impossibly chocolate-box castle, we ended up staying in a hotel that - we discovered later - the professor's parents used to visit in the 1950s.
As we found drier weather, I could use more of the machine's capabilities on some gloriously empty roads. Accelerating hard, the bike picks up its skirts and runs, the adjustable suspension plushly smoothing out bumps and even the clunky gearbox failing to spoil the fun.
After 2,500 miles, I was throwing the bike around with gusto. But below walking pace, the tall seat height and vast weight remained liabilities.
On the cross-Channel shuttle we took stock: 12 countries in 11 days, or nine without the double counting forced on us by our circular route. Not bad.
But would it have been better in a car? Over to the professor: "No. We would not have been able to do so much. It would have taken ages to get into the centre of Pisa, for example. When the sun was shining, riding on the bike was both comfortable and enjoyable. Mind you, it would have been nice to have been able to put a roof up in all that rain."