We take the Calypso Ori 125 for a typical long weekend away to see if we can break it

If, like me, you are a fan of small bikes with classic looks, then you will have started noticing a new line of glossy black motos around town. 

Perhaps you wondered what was going on with the giant LCD screen, or the absence of a clutch? Emblazoned with “Ori” on the side covers and “Calypso” on the crank casing, and at first glance resembling an updated Honda Win – but without Vietnamese license plates and a backpacker aboard – or a CD90, they certainly caught my attention.

Eventually, my curiosity was piqued and Dr Google was consulted. It turns out the bikes are produced right here in the Kingdom.  A couple of emails later and I was set for a visit to the factory in the capital’s Toul Kork. 

The background to the operation, by Startec Dynamics Cambodia, was covered in an earlier article, here. Unfortunately, at the time of my visit, their demonstration fleet were all pre-booked for a series functions and promotions.

I had the chance to whip one around the block, but a longer term, real world approach was needed. As it happened, a bike became available just as the Phchum Ben holiday was approaching. It was time to treat it like a rented Honda Wave put it to the test.

Testing time

The plan was to ride it solo to Kampot, then take it up Bokor Mountain for a look at the latest exciting developments, run over to Kep for some crab and then return to Phnom Penh.  

I picked it up the Monday before the holiday at Startec’s Toul Kork showroom and received a short brief from Ya, the company’s chief test rider, before commuting back to the office. The first thing that struck me was the lightness of the bike.

My daily commuter is a Yamaha FZ 150, and I’ll admit to certain misguided smugness from riding a clutched motorcycle, but in heavy midday traffic, the semi-automatic shifting felt practical and – aside from the inevitable shift into neutral from first that seems to happen the first time I jump on any semi boxed bike – it was a joy to flick it through the hordes of Lexuses and delivery drivers crowding the capital. 

Leaving the office later that night, I have to say I was impressed by a feature that I don’t usually pay attention to. The Euro-spec LED headlight put my poor Yamaha’s dim lamp to shame, and the TFT display was beautifully backlit, as were the handlebar controls. Nice features that don’t necessarily make or break a riding experience, but certainly good to have.

As I filled the 8.9 litre tank, I reset the trip computer to 0 km – thanks to Ya for teaching this old fella how to navigate the onboard controls.

The tank features an extremely retro sticker which implores the rider to “preserve nature” and “think safety”, which reminds me of classic “beware of mud for therein lurks the skid demon” 1970s owner’s manuals – another cure retro touch which appealed to me.

Obviously, the capital has posted a speed limit of 30 kph, so I was unable to explore the full potential of the 125cc block, but a little taste of traffic light grand prix with the local delivery drivers told me that it was going to be competitive within its class. A visit to my local watering hole confirmed what I already knew – this is an attractive little machine.

I found myself fielding plenty of questions ranging from “What is it?” to “Who makes it?” and everything in between. The Ori even became the subject of an impromptu photo shoot by a group of local girls, always a positive sign.

Now, I have to admit that ahead of my departure for Kampot, I had some doubts. I had read some less-than complimentary comments on the reliability of the bike, with some people claiming online that an hour on the highway would lead to an overheated engine ... or worse.

Nonetheless, it would be a poor test if the bike was mollycoddled or treated any different from a regular daily driver, so I bungeed a pack to the convenient rack and headed out on the open road.

Flat out in Cambodia 

Thanks to a late start, I was able to miss a lot of the usual holiday traffic on National Road 3 and quickly found that the Ori was able to sit on 80kph. Granted, it is a 125, so the throttle was pinned open rather than at “cruising” revs, but as I say, I promised myself I would treat it like I would any other bike, and needs must. 

It felt stable and luckily the suspension worked well when I accidentally took part in a couple of pot hole finding exercises, again, perfectly normal in the Kingdom. 

While the engine was certainly heating up by the time I made it to the Durian Roundabout – with no stops – it hadn’t affected the performance, and felt no different from the many similar runs I have made on a variety of Japanese 125 semis.

I have since spoken to the manufacturers, and they conceded that a small percentage of the initial production run suffered from overheating issues and excessive vibration, but were quick to explain that the issues were resolved with upgraded parts, which were offered free of charge to all existing customers, whether they had experienced issues or not. 

Seemed fair enough to me, with a totally new to market product, and of course complaints are magnified in the online sphere.

I’d also been curious about how the TFT LCD screen would perform in direct sunlight, but regardless of where the sun was, it read perfectly fine the whole way there.

Arguably the worst part of the two-and-a-quarter-hour ride was forgetting that Cafe Espresso is closed on major public holidays. 

Cambodia’s own Snaefell Mountain

As I am sure all of the Kingdom’s riders will agree, the best way to get a feel for the handling of any bike is a brisk run up Bokor Mountain, one of the great motorcycling roads. Naturally, the second day of the three-day holiday meant that traffic was heavy and in retrospect, perhaps opting to take a passenger for the first time was not the ideal way to climb the mountain. 

I will admit to being slightly frustrated at having to wait for the wide hairpins to ride around the outside – or inside – of sightseers in cars (and even a few PassApp taxis), but despite the limitations of the small engine, a good time was had by all. 

The Ori is as sure-footed as any scooter I have ridden, and there was plenty of room for my passenger and I. Once again, the headlight came into its own as the mist descended halfway up the mountain, with several SUV drivers displaying the usual confusion over where the centre line was.  

Parked up at the Le Bokor Palace Hotel for a coffee, the bike drew plenty of attention from the hordes of young Honda riders who were playing on the mountain that day, and even the hotel security guard. As the mist cleared, we opted to ride the loop around the top of the mountain, past the “100 rice fields” rock formations and back to the road down.

What goes up

Some of the development I mentioned came into play when we discovered the beginnings of a new borey. The road had been cut for about a kilometre and replaced with large, loose rocks. A perfect test for the Ori’s semi-knobblies, much to the dismay of my passenger!

Despite some fairly serious vibrations, the little moto-that-could took it all in its stride. Nothing fell off, the mirrors even stayed in place and we were ready for the descent.

At 75kg, the bike was never going to be the most stable into the fast downhill bends of the mountain, but with 120kg of barangs mounted on it, the Ori was more than capable of holding its own. With high footpegs, plenty of ground clearance and precious cargo aboard, there was no chance of scraping anything, but it was a steady enough platform that it surprised a few of the local boys who were attempting to set their own lap records.

It remains extremely entertaining to see the look on some people’s faces as a tiny two-up motorcycle pokes a front wheel up the inside of them mid-corner.

Back to the big smoke

The following day, it was time to drop in on a friend in Kep. It was great to see that the Kampot-Kep road has been resurfaced and no longer feels like driving on the moon. Once again, the Ori was happy enough to keep up with the holiday traffic and nimble enough not to get caught up in the inevitable congestion.

After a brief, depressing look at the weather forecast, it was time to head home to Phnom Penh. I made it most of the way back before the heavens opened, but figured it couldn’t last and carried on through a sudden thunderstorm. The high-tech dash gave me pause, but the seal worked perfectly, and the sensor even helpfully switched the display into night mode as the sky got darker and darker.

Arriving back in the city, I remembered I had promised to collect a bench-top oven from a friend. Since I had told myself I would treat the Ori like a daily driver – and because I had an extra bungee cord on hand – I figured I may as well save myself a tuk-tuk ride and collect the thing myself. Once again, the half-rack worked a treat. Problem solved.

A few more days of running errands and shooting back and forth from home to the office confirmed what I already knew: I was a fan.

When the time came to return the bike, I knew that I was going to miss it, especially commuting. There was something about its personality that I really enjoyed. Now if I can just dream up an approach that might justify a six-month long-term review ...

By the numbers

Thanks to the smart dash, I was able to record the kms I put on the Ori in the seven days I had it. I filled the just under 8 litre tank on day one and topped it up at the halfway mark twice, but dropped it back showing that it was still three-quarters full. Total kms were around 550, so ... the reader can do the math if he or she really needs to. Its worth noting that at least 300 of the 550 were essentially done under full throttle, so city riders can expect better fuel economy.

Personally, I think it is safe to say that whether or not it is the most efficient in its class is not going to make a huge difference, especially when the sticker price is taken into consideration.

As reported, the bike was happy to sit on the speed limit of 80kph, although on The Post’s closed road circuit, our test rider was able to wind it up to an indicated 94kph – with feet on the passenger pegs, chin behind the dash and a tailwind. A lighter rider could reasonably expect a little more top end, but where would they use it?

One clear takeaway is that fans of big horsepower need not apply, and that the 0-100 figure would depend entirely on the tow vehicle.

At just 75kg, parking, turning the bike around in a narrow space, or throwing it onto its centre stand were as simple as could be expected. The stand, and the retro style, with all major components exposed, means those who are so inclined should have no issues doing their own servicing.

On that note, it is true that having only been on the market for a year, parts will likely need to be sourced through an authorised service centre, but as I understand it, there are at least four or five throughout the Kingdom – and more on the way.

One useful selling point is an agreed service regime that is included with each bike from new. Four services are included, and a mechanical warranty applies for the first year, or 4,700km, whichever comes first.

A handy log is included with each bike, and is transferable should the owner sell, although obviously any major mechanical modifications will void that.

The final word

Although there were a couple of minor things that bugged me – I think side reflectors look naff and belong on ten-speeds, and I didn’t like to see exposed cables behind the indicators, but this is part and parcel of the bike’s style – no sealed in plastic scooter aesthetic here, after all! The bike got a thorough drenching a couple of times and showed no sign of damage, so more of a nitpick than a real criticism.

Regardless of what quicker riders might say, I valued the large mirrors and the fact that they showed very little vibration, even at highway speed. The paint finish looks good – like Henry Ford said, in any colour you like, as long as its black.

On balance, it is pretty obvious that I’m a fan. While I can appreciate how capable a BMW R1300GS is, I would probably prefer to buy me and 22 mates classic tiny bikes and spend the change on a few cases of beers at the end of a fun ride. Commuting in Phnom Penh traffic? No contest. 

If it were mine, I would whip off the afore-mentioned reflectors and spend a few minutes with some insulation tape doing a tidy up. I might even be tempted to see what one might look like wrapped in a different colour. Other than that, it does what it says on the tin, and that works for me.

Calypso apparently has a few new offerings in the works – including a more conventional twist-and-go step through – so it will be interesting to see how many more we start to see around the place.  

If anyone is in the market for a good looking alternative to a standard underbone 125 runabout – with the possibility of a few missions out of the city – I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend a test drive. At $1,580 brand spanking, I reckon it has to be worth a look.

The vaguely worded views in this piece are the author’s own.