The Honda CB1300 was seventies retro, but technologically it belonged firmly in the 21st century.

It looked like the spiritual successor to the big air-cooled Hondas of old, but beneath the styling sat a thoroughly modern motorcycle. Fuel injected, smooth as silk and with torque everywhere, it was one of those bikes that never seemed to be trying very hard. Open the throttle in almost any gear and it simply surged forward.

Honda had fitted FireBlade brake calipers, adjustable suspension front and rear and a multi-function digital display that seemed capable of telling me everything apart from next week’s lottery numbers. It was beautifully engineered and felt every inch a premium motorcycle.

The engine was undoubtedly the star of the show. It had torque in abundance and made overtaking effortless. There was no need to chase the red line or work through the gearbox. The bike simply got on with the job and always felt as though there was plenty more performance in reserve.

It wasn’t perfect, mind. The CB1300 had an appetite for rear tyres that would have worried a small oil-producing nation. It seemed that every time I looked at the back wheel another few millimetres of rubber had disappeared.

The bike also provided one of my more embarrassing motorcycling moments. On a ride between Builth Wells and Brecon I managed to stuff it into a hedge. Fortunately both the bike and I escaped largely unscathed, although my pride suffered considerably more damage than the Honda.

Looking back, the CB1300 was one of those motorcycles that did almost everything well. Comfortable, fast, reliable and beautifully built, it was a machine that made every ride enjoyable. Yet despite all its qualities, my thoughts were increasingly turning towards travelling rather than simply riding.

In the end, the CB1300 was part exchanged, along with the insurance payout from my XT600, to fund the purchase of a BMW R1150GS Adventure.