There's a stretch of autoroute south of Clermont Ferrand that is the perfect tonic to the preceding several hundred miles of motorway monotony - if riding four of the world's finest litre bikes can ever be considered monotonous.
When you absolutely, positively have to go as fast as possible from one point to another there is only one class to turn to. But when the siren goes off is the new GSX-R still the fastest way to get to a nuclear bunker?