THE PROMISE OF better weather in Spain is unnervingly accurate. Filling up at one of the last French service stations, a bright blue band of sky is visible beyond the rain still pissing down the back of my neck when I turn my head. As we splash on, it gets bigger, and the rain eases. The final French toll booth marks the end of the cloud, and the roads are already drying – so much so, now BMWmounted, I tap the button to disengage the traction control, and wheelie away. It’s not like they have police or CCTV here, is it?
Chimp impulse satiated, I put the front wheel down, and realise the first-second-third-fourth-gear minger I’ve hoisted was conducted in Rain mode. Later, erm, research reveals it’s actually the nicest…