Benda Napoleonbob 500 review: What’s in a name?

I’m going to start my review of the Benda Napoleonbob 500 with a little Shakespeare, which I’ll freely admit is a weird place to start.

“What’s in a name?” is Juliet’s famous quote from arguably Shakespeare’s most famous work. The phrase implies that Juliet is questioning the importance of the Montague surname, hinting that her opinion is that a person’s qualities are more significant than their family name.

And that helps us to address the elephant in the review - the brand name on the fuel tank. Benda. The brand behind the bike was, in its native China, known as BD Moto. Indeed, from talking to the UK distributor, MotoGB, some of the boxes that parts and accessories arrive in are still branded BD Moto. For some reason, possibly relating to the cost involved in a UK-specific rebrand, the decision to stick with Benda was made, tying in the UK subsidiary with the nearly 80 other global regions that stock the bikes - none of which have an issue with the name. It’s a British ‘thing’, it seems.

So, with that slightly unusual start to a review out of the way, shall we talk about the bike?

Price and UK availability

The Napoleonbob lands in dealers in the coming month or so, priced at £5,499 (+£200 OTR), or bought on a PCP for as little as £86.13 per month. Whichever way you skin it, that’s not a lot of cash for a bike as distinctive looking as this is.

Comparing it to the competition, it comes up cheaper than the Honda CMX500 Rebel (£5,799) and less than the Kawasaki Eliminator 500 (£5,999). Granted, the gap between this relatively unknown newcomer and the bikes mentioned above is slim, and given that they are well-established brands in every sense, it might be a case of Benda learning to walk in the UK market before it can run.

Colour options for the bike include the black and gold paint with gold wheels (as ridden) and a more stealthy version with a black-on-black painted scheme and black powder-coated wheels.

Spec and features

Beneath the retro body panels resides a handsome-looking 476cc 65-degree V-twin, which pumps out an A2-friendly 47hp (46.3bhp) at 9,000rpm and 30lb ft at 7,200rpm. Power is delivered to the rear wheel via a six-speed slip-assisted gearbox with a carbon belt final drive.

Suspension is from KYB, with 43mm forks at the front sitting beneath natty-looking faux-girder shrouds. The rear suspension comprises a single KYB monoshock, which again is tucked beneath a neat little shroud on the right side of the bike. Having the suspension all hidden from view is a very cool trick, and it gives the impression of a bike that is much more expensive than its sub-£6k price tag.

The braking system of the bike is, like the suspension, sensibly sourced from a brand British and European bikers know and trust, in J.Juan. Having a trusted brand such as this handling such an important aspect of a bike makes total sense, and it seems like Benda, along with some other Chinese brands, has wised up to the fact that when it comes to brakes and suspension, we like to put our money into companies we trust.

Pulling the whole bike together is a steel cradle frame with a cast aluminium swingarm. Topping off the bike is a 16-litre fuel tank which sits just in front of its extremely accessible  695mm seat. All told, the bike tips the scales at 215kg wet, meaning it’s definitely not the lightest bike in the class, but it’s not far off the mark.

The bike’s electronics comprise a small and simple three-inch TFT with no menus to scroll through, with the switchable (on/off) traction control being toggled by a button on the left switchcube.

What’s it like to ride?

Sitting on the Napoleonbob for the first time highlights its fairly dinky proportions, with the swept-back and narrow flying ‘W’ handlebars exaggerating the compact feeling. Pegs are forward-mounted, but thanks to the size of the bike, it’s nowhere near a full straight-leg stretch to reach them. Overall, it feels okay for me, although I could imagine taller riders would start to feel a little cramped after a while.

Before getting started, I’ve got to find the key, which is tucked up just behind the headstock of the bike. Once located, I’m greeted by the dinky TFT blinking into life and highlighting one potential issue. The placement of the TFT is almost totally flat, meaning that in the bright early September sunshine, I’m struggling to read the dash, and we aren’t even on the move yet.

A prod of the starter button wakes the V-twin up with a ‘brap’ from the pipes and a quicker-than-normal tickover before it settles into a more relaxed rhythm. My first takeaways from this are of a characterful little motor. In the deluge of parallel twins in the A2 sector, it’s nice to see a brand stick to a more evocative and attractive looking configuration.

And it’s not hogtied by the usual issue of a Chinese brand failing to pull a usable amount of performance from a specific capacity bracket, with acceleration off the line feeling brisker than its spec sheet suggests. It’s helped by a nicely set-up Ride-By-Wire (RBW) throttle, although slightly held back by the traction control. We quickly worked out that to get the best from the ‘bob, you have to turn the traction control (TC) off. With only around 30mm of stroke and not much in the way of travel at the rear end, it’s easy for the rear to lift and then spin under hard acceleration. That will trigger the TC and cause a whole load of swearing within your helmet - it’s a good job the TC is easy to deactivate.

One element of the engine and gearbox combo I’m not liking quite as much is the gearshift, which has a slushy, imprecise feeling at the lever. There is a long throw to the lever and no distinct ‘snick’ when you hook the next cog, and the position of the lever (along with the placement of the pegs) means I’m having to use the top of my foot and not my toes to move up the ‘box. There is a concentric adjuster on the lever, although I’m not sure how much difference it’ll make - we didn’t get time to test it on the launch event. On the plus side, the clutch lever is feather-light, and the slip function works well when downshifting hard - both of those traits (and the super-low seat) mean this bike is a doddle to ride around town.

While we are talking about the gearbox, the gears feel quite closely spaced, probably to make the most of the power on tap for quick acceleration. You hook through the gears quite quickly, and likewise, the final drive feels relatively short - we’ll wait and see how that shapes up on the motorway.

One of the most striking features of the bike is its suspension. With the oily bits tucked away out of view, the Napoleonbob genuinely looks like nothing else in the sub-£10,000 segment. And I’m happy to report that this isn’t a case of form over function. Bobbers and cruisers are never the best bikes for bumpy roads. From the riding position, which sees almost all your weight being carried by your back, to the short travel suspension, bikes like this must have £ signs appearing in the eyes of chiropractors worldwide. Thankfully, KYB and Benda have been sensible with the settings, and the little bobber is nowhere near as harsh and crashing over potholes as I expected. I’m still hunting out the smoothest asphalt and avoiding as many bumps as possible, but should I hit one unexpectedly, the suspension (and the chunky 150/180 section balloon tyres) do a decent job of soaking it up.

Away from the potholes and out on the twisties, the little bobber handles surprisingly well. We’re pushing on about as hard as I’m comfortable with on these roads and tyres - I am not familiar with Timsum hoops - but it’s soaking up all the abuse l can throw at it. It’s easy to get the thing bucking and weaving on the corner exit, and with its narrow handlebars, it feels like a physical and engaging bike to hustle.

The braking system comprises a single 320mm disc and a J.Juan caliper at the front and a 260mm disc and a two-piston caliper at the rear. The bite on the brakes is quite progressive, meaning I have to get into the meat of the lever to get the best out of it. The rear brake is much more direct, with more bite and lots of power from very little input. It’s another little hint that this would be a great bike for city life. ABS on the bike is a basic two-channel system, although as with some of the other parts fitted, the team that designed it went down the tried and tested route, choosing Bosch for the job.

Comfort

You are not likely going to be choosing a bobber for its comfort, and it’ll probably come as no surprise to hear that after around half a day in the saddle, my knees and the small of my back were beginning to ache a bit. But comparing that to other bobber or cruisers I’ve tested, it’s really no different.

One point of note that became particularly tiresome on a long (and fast) motorway schlep back to MotoGB HQ was the vibes. The pegs in particular get very vibey at motorway speeds, and as 75mph in top gear will see the rev-counter heading north of 6,000rpm, the vibes are at their strongest. It’s not so bad through the seat or frame, and some vibrations can be felt through the bars. On the plus (or should that be ‘plush’?) side, I found the single floating seat to be nice and supportive as it cushed my tush.

My best advice is to steer clear of long motorway jaunts and wind-blasted dual carriageways and stick to the twisties or around town.

Verdict

The world of the A2-ready cruiser and bobber is a bit of an odd space. It’s full of options, from all the big players, but sadly, they almost all miss one vital element. A proper V-twin engine. It sounds petty, but the engine on a bike like this is such an integral part of the deal. It’s the focal point of it, the heart of it all.

People get into biking for all sorts of reasons, but for many, it’s because a friend or family member rode a bike, and now they want one too. If all you saw were ‘proper’ V-twin-powered bikes as a kid, why would you then go out and buy a bike that looks like it's powered by a washing machine painted black?

Spoiler alert: You wouldn’t.

That’s one of the things Benda got right with this bike. The styling, in my opinion, is great. From the faux forks to the softail-like rear end, it looks good from every angle. And it doesn’t seem like this is a sheen of quick-to-fade glitter on a plastic fantastic. Granted, there are some plastic aesthetic parts - as there are on any modern bike - but the structural parts are nicely finished - there’s even a retro crackle-finished coating on lots of the parts. If you took the badges and branding off it and parked it outside the Bike Shed, I bet you’d have hordes of people asking which beardy hipster had built it.

Thankfully for those riders who care, the riding experience of the Napoleonbob matches its aesthetic appeal. For the more experienced riders out there, you’ll quickly find the limit of the geometry, tyres and brakes, but for newer riders who may be stepping up from a CBT or an existing A2 bike, there is a lot to like, and importantly, a lot more you can learn thanks to how accessible it is.

But that is only if people can get over the name.

You can check out the bike for yourself on the official website.

Images and video: Toofast Media

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Benda Napoleonbob 500 specs