If Hamas sympathisers can be funded by NSW taxpayers to march across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, I reckon I deserve funding to ride my pro-colonial Royal Enfield Continental GT 650 on NSW country roads. It’s only fair. I’m no national security threat, I don’t snarl traffic, and I don’t inflate policing costs. While Australia seemed to crumble on the Bridge last Sunday, I celebrated my Anglo heritage in a part of NSW untouched by what I see as misguided activism.
In an era where the nanny state wants to bubble-wrap us, where electric vehicles hum like drones and autonomous cars threaten to erase human agency, the Royal Enfield Continental GT 650 café racer stands as a symbol of unapologetic Anglo individualism. After taking redundancy from my 20-year academic career, I did the most un-Woke thing possible: I bought a motorcycle. As a flâneur of politics and open roads, I’ve always believed true freedom lies not in policy papers but in the raw thrill of machinery that harkens back to an age of adventure.
Let’s talk about the GT 650, a modern café racer that channels the rebellious spirit of London’s 1960s Ton-Up Boys while offering reliable performance for today’s rider. Royal Enfield, founded in 1901, supplied motorcycles to the British Army during both World Wars, embodying resilience and ingenuity. The café racer ethos, born in post-war Britain, saw young riders modify bikes for speed and style, racing between cafés along London’s North Circular.
The GT 650 honours this with retro aesthetics – clip-on handlebars, rear-set footpegs, and a sculpted chrome fuel tank – paired with modern engineering: a 648cc parallel-twin, air-oil cooled, fuel-injected engine, ABS brakes, 47 horsepower, and 38 lb-ft of torque. It’s forgiving for novices, exhilarating for veterans, and stops on a dime.
What sets the GT 650 apart is its accessibility. In a market of overpriced, tech-heavy bikes from Japan or Europe, this one retails under $12,000 in Australia. I splurged on upgrades – Pirelli Sport Demon tyres, engine guards, an aluminium oil cap, a tail-tidy with sleek indicators, and a single seat to embrace rugged individualism. This bike isn’t just budget-friendly, it’s a rebellion against elitist policies that price ordinary people out of experiences, like those Bridge protests.
I’d bet funding a GT 650 for every NSW taxpayer who wants one would cost less than the policing of Hamas supporter protests since October 7, 2023. If I were a pro-Palestinian activist, the government might’ve bought me this bike – or the Supreme Court would’ve mandated it.
The GT 650’s tubular steel frame is robust yet light, with dual-channel ABS and a smooth six-speed gearbox. On winding roads around Gunning, its burbling exhaust – described by my girlfriend as ‘refined’ compared to my neighbour’s Harley – echoes along the Old Hume Highway, turning heads in Upper Lachlan villages. It hits 0-100 km/h in under six seconds (so I am told), with mid-range torque that makes acceleration a joy. The sporty ergonomics – leaning forward like a jockey – forge an intimate rider-machine connection. It’s not about speed, it’s about engagement. My Pirelli tyres grip the bitumen, and subtle vibrations remind me I’m alive, not cocooned in some sterile, Woke paradise.
This bike is a quiet act of defiance against political correctness and risk aversion. It’s reliable for commutes, customisable for bobber conversions, and fosters an enthusiast community sharing mods online or at local meets. Unlike Bridge-blocking protesters, café racer riders don’t care about Palestine or the ‘Wokerati’. My upgrades – done without voiding the warranty – fulfill a lifelong dream of owning a bike. Critics might call Royal Enfield a relic, but they’ve never felt the wind on a crisp Southern Tablelands ride.
These days, the brand’s build quality rivals pricier competitors, with fuel efficiency at 25 km/l and straightforward maintenance. (Though I needed my mate Damian’s 13mm ratchet spanner to remove the obsolete pillion pegs, reinforcing my single-seat individualism. There’s no room for leaners on my bike.)
The GT 650 evokes memories of my travels through Europe, Asia, and the Middle East, where narrow lanes demand nimble, characterful bikes. I saw a chrome Royal Enfield Interceptor and a chrome Moto Guzzi café racer in Myeongdong recently, but my GT 650, ‘Mr Clean’, outshines them both. It’s a statement against the homogenisation of modern life and a refusal to bow to Woke culture or Hamas sympathisers. I can’t stop smiling, even after the National Day of Shame on the Bridge.
If you’re tired of pro-Palestinian propaganda and crave authentic Anglo freedom, swing a leg over a GT 650. It’s made like a gun. You’ll rediscover the road and forget about the useful idiots who are doing all they can to help Hamas.
