Tribute to the beloved TW

The plan, if one could call it that, was to fly to Sri Lanka, rent a motorcycle, and drift about like some hipster wanderer with sand between his toes and not a deadline in sight.

Enter Suranga. Proprietor of Club Sha Lanka, motorcycle whisperer, and persuasive oracle. He whatsapp'ed me a list of available bikes, most of which sounded like minor Greek gods or discontinued household appliances. The only familiar name was the Royal Enfield Classic. Too familiar. I wanted something lighter and more nimble. Less brooding colonial officer, more cheerful sideshow.

I settled on the Honda XR250. Light, tall, and looked like it meant business. On paper, it's like the two-wheeled embodiment of Prabhudeva. I felt quietly smug about my choice, and flew out to Colombo and took a rickshaw ride to Sha Lanka in happy anticipation of riding this red beauty. And then I saw it in person.

The XR250 towered like a solemn coconut tree. I imagined myself, all 165cm and 90kg of me, attempting to mount it with luggage strapped on the back and saw, in vivid slow motion, a succession of ungraceful tumbles punctuated by the polite chuckles of passers-by. My quiet panic must have been visible somehow, because Suranga, with the air of a man about to unveil a secret, said, “Try the TW.”

And with a conspiratorial smile, he wheeled out the Yamaha TW225.

It was, in a word, absurdity. A squat frame, chunky, oversized tyres. A rear wheel that looked borrowed from a mini tractor. The seat height was so low it practically invited you for chai and samosas. The whole thing gave off the distinct vibe of a motorcycle designed possibly on a dare. A toy!

And yet, there was something endearing about it. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it was inviting? I slung a leg over, effortlessly, and settled into what can only be described as the motorcycle equivalent of a tobu cycle.

This, I decided, would do nicely. Forget the looks, I was itching to go places.

The ride

TL;DR: Delightfully quirky, utterly capable.

From the first moment, the TW didn’t roar or snarl. It hummed along like a retired postal worker with nowhere urgent to be. There was something gloriously unhurried about it, and soon I found myself easing into the same mood. Its rear rack and a couple of bungee cords made tying luggage feel almost ceremonial. The world, for once, stayed where it should.

The fuel tank was... modest. Let’s just say you get to know the petrol stations of Sri Lanka very well. The old-school on-off-reserve switch added to its rustic charm, like cooking over a wood fire because you want to, not because you have to.

First gear felt like it had been borrowed from a small tractor: comically low for tarmac, but a silent hero when the terrain got rough. When I took the bike off-road more than once, the TW just shrugged and got on with it.  Like, zero drama. It just went where I pointed, like an obedient donkey.

On the highway, those fat tyres felt like a gentle hand on your shoulder. They were a little slow to tip in, yes, but once leaned over, the TW held its line like a monk holding a thought. It wasn’t a fast bike, but it was sure of itself. I was trying out things that I knew only in theory, and each effort was rewarded with learning.

The brakes did their job without fuss. No ABS, but enough bite to remind you you’re still alive.

Overall, this was the most engaging, least intimidating and possibly the most capable bike I've ridden, all told.

I might have stressed a bit too much about its unhurried nature, but I think on a straight line, this TW can outstrip the xpulse.

Why isn't this in India?

Like yeah, really. Why isn’t the TW sold in India? As an aside, I seriously looked up the possibility of importing it into India and gave up because of the high cost of customs and paperwork hassle.

The adventure and dual-sport market is booming. But most of what’s available seems designed for omitabosons. For a country of short riders and shady roads, the TW would be revolutionary.

The TW225 is no longer in production, but its near-identical cousin, the TW200, is still going strong.

250mm ground clearance, with 790mm seat height. Supremely unbeatable. What the what!? I personally know about 20 people who would buy it just for the specs.

Sure, it still comes with a carburetor, but it would take very little effort to swap in fuel injection and bring it up to modern standards. Add abs and you're done!

It’s simple, proven, nearly indestructible. And somehow, more than the sum of its humble parts.

Yamaha, if you're listening: this one is a no-brainer.

The platypus of motorcycles

The TW is a motorcycle for people who have nothing to prove to anyone else but a lot to prove to themselves. It just bloody works. With a kind of cheerful humility that’s getting harder to find in the world.

This bike is pretty close to what freedom feels like. Not in the dramatic, hair-in-the-wind(lol) sense, but in the quiet joy of not worrying about the bike beneath me. Of not thinking at all, dissolving into the experience. Truly, essentially zen.

This is not just me, check out Ryan Fortnine singing praises.

So here’s to the beloved platypus. The heartbreaker oddball. The utterly charming TW. Long may it plod.