FIRST RIDE: BENELLI IMPERIALE 400
It’s slow and it doesn’t handle very well. But that’s the idea.
How good is Benelli’s classically-styled Imperiale 400? Not very. On open A-roads the chassis is as vague as Boris’ lockdown guidelines, the rear suspension offers similar bump-swallowing capabilities as a hard-tail chopper, and the 374cc air-cooled single is a bit breathless. It’s also got a few brackets and fittings that appear to have be made from special metal called ‘cheap-a-minium’, and whoever welded the frame must have run out of anti-spatter spray. This was my opinion of the Benelli after my first 100 miles or so. It didn’t get better after covering the same distance again – assessed with my objective road tester’s hat on and next to the rest of modern motorcycling, the Imperiale is basic and slow. This of course means Benelli have actually done a pretty reasonable job with their new ‘modern classic’. The idea of the 400 is a taste of the bikes they made in the 1950s; not a modern bike styled like an old one, but one with the simple sensations performance bikes used to have. And that is affordable: the Imperiale is £3699 on the road. Think Royal Enfield Bullet, not Triumph Street Twin.
Like the Bullet, the Benelli’s simple ride, direct feel and modest performance do a decent job of feeling like bikes used to. This is biking at a lazy pace, about the sights, sounds and sensations rather than speed and outright handling. With a long straight and gritted teeth the 21bhp single just about hits 80mph, but it’s far happier short-shifting through the five-speed gearbox and purring about below the speed limit. Newly developed specifically for this bike, the twin-plug motor is smoother than Royal Enfield’s 500 and revs more readily too – the redline is 6000rpm but it’ll spin to 7000. Fuelling is a bit onoff at a steady 30mph in third or fourth, otherwise it’s quite refined. Almost 80mpg, too.
At low speed the Imperiale rolls around breezily, with slim-tyre agility and lots of connection through the controls. It’s pleasing bobbing down quiet lanes, too. It’s on bumpy routes and fast A-roads where the chassis shows limitations, even accepting its like-the-old-days ambitions. Its rear shocks are stiff with just 55mm of wheel travel, and the forks don’t have much damping. The mismatch makes the 400 a bit vague, with a slight fondness to meander towards the outside of a corner and to weave over white lines. A traditional riding stance bends hips and knees at 90°, and sits you bolt upright. Conveniently, the seat is perfectly shaped to let you slip feet onto the pillion footpegs though, so you can prop yourself into the wind to battle a dual carriageway.
Actually, a couple of welds and brackets aside, the Benelli is well presented for a £3699 bike. The stainless-steel exhaust is nicely finished, mudguards are steel rather than plastic, the engine finish looks robust, switchgear is Japanese-standard, and you get alloy rims and decent paint. It’s better than prejudices suggest a cheap Chinese bike will be. Yes, the 400 is made in China. They’ve offi- cially been ‘Benelli QJ’ since being bought by Qianjiang in 2005, and though designed in Italy all bikes are made at QJ’S factory. In a world where ‘authenticity’ matters you may well query the legitimacy of a Chinese-built bike being flogged using Italian heritage. But you could say the same of Thai-built Triumphs covered in Union Flags. And Benelli aren’t hiding it: there’s a clear ‘made in China’ sticker. Yet, channel the right mindset and you warm to the Imperiale. I like old clunkers, enjoy a steady trundle and get its appeal – you’re flooded with sensations at steady speed. But for me it’s not as convincing as a Royal Enfield. I prefer the period thud of the Bullet’s single and it has better steering and composure too. The Indian bike is also only a few hundred quid more, well established, and has strong residuals. It feels like the bike the Benelli is trying – and not quite managing – to be.
‘I like old clunkers, enjoy a steady trundle and get the Benelli’s appeal’