2026 BSA Bantam 350 Review

The name might not be familiar to some, but BSA is back and the Bantam is a throwback to motorcycling’s past, when things were simple and cheap.

I’ll admit it. When someone said I was collecting a BSA Bantam, my immediate response was essentially, “A what?” Apparently, this is where I publicly expose my age – something that, as a female, I’m fairly certain I’m legally prohibited from doing.

Because while BSA might be relatively new territory for me, the Bantam name certainly isn’t new. The original arrived way back in 1948 and became one of Britain’s most recognisable little motorcycles, with more than half a million produced before its run eventually came to an end in the early 1970s. Now BSA is back, and so too is the Bantam, and thankfully the new one has gained a few modern niceties along the way.

The concept, however, feels remarkably similar: keep motorcycling simple, attainable and fun. And at $6990, BSA has certainly nailed the attainable part.

Underneath you’ll find a 334cc liquid-cooled, single-cylinder engine producing 21.4kW and 29.6Nm of torque, paired with a six-speed gearbox. It isn’t trying to rip your arms from their sockets, nor should it. This is a little bike designed to be approachable, economical and easy to live with. Which, for the most part, it absolutely is.

First impressions count

Our test bike was finished in black, and I really liked it. There’s something about the combination of the blacked-out styling, round headlight and red BSA tank badge that just works. It’s stealthy without trying too hard. Retro without looking like it escaped from a museum. Mist Green is also joining the colour range, paying homage to the Bantams of the late ’40s and early ’50s, which should suit the heritage styling beautifully.

Swinging a leg over reveals an equally uncomplicated cockpit. The inverted LCD display is simple, clean and gives you everything you actually need without requiring a university degree to find your speedometer. I’m a big fan of this.

Modern motorcycles can sometimes become a competition to see how many menus, buttons and electronic settings manufacturers can squeeze onto two handlebars. The Bantam has taken the opposite approach. Here’s your information. Now go ride the thing.

Lighting is LED, ABS is standard and there’s enough modernity incorporated into the package that it doesn’t feel outdated despite deliberately leaning into BSA’s history.

Off we go

Pulling away, the Bantam immediately feels friendly. The clutch is smooth, so getting underway requires very little thought, and there’s a nice bit of punch from the little single-cylinder engine. The torque delivery initially caught me slightly by surprise. It has a somewhat interesting torque curve, but there’s enough response down low to make it feel eager when leaving intersections and nipping around town.

That is probably where I enjoyed the Bantam most. Around town, suburban roads and the daily commute, it makes complete sense. It’s uncomplicated, unintimidating and easy to manoeuvre. You aren’t constantly restraining a ridiculous amount of horsepower or wondering whether the slightest enthusiastic wrist movement is about to send you into another postcode. You can simply ride it.

Take it onto the motorway and, despite its 334cc capacity, it will happily putter along at 100km/h. It just makes sure you know it’s doing it. There are noticeable vibrations as the speed increases and the engine starts working harder, but considering we’re asking one small cylinder to maintain open-road speeds, that’s hardly shocking.

Would I commute on the motorway with it? Yes. Would I buy it specifically to spend hours touring Auckland’s motorway network? Probably not. Then again, willingly spending hours on Auckland’s motorway network could be considered questionable behaviour regardless of motorcycle choice.

About that suspension…

Now we reach the Bantam’s biggest compromise. The suspension is firm. Actually, firm might be generous. It’s hard. On smooth roads, everything feels reasonably planted, and turning the Bantam in initially felt slightly unusual to me, but once committed it held its line and got the job done. Introduce some of New Zealand’s more creative interpretations of road maintenance, however, and you become very aware of what’s happening underneath you. Every lump and bump sends a fairly direct memo upstairs.

Interestingly, this isn’t something unique to my experience. Other testers have also criticised the Bantam’s suspension for being harsh across uneven surfaces, and I’d agree. The rear does offer five-step preload adjustment and BSA notes that the bike has been designed with pillion capability in mind, which may help explain some of that firmness. Around town with someone on the back? Sure. Launching onto the motorway two-up? I’d personally be a little less enthusiastic.

For me, this is where the Bantam firmly establishes itself as more a commuter than a weekend weapon. It’ll happily tackle a winding road, but I wouldn’t choose it specifically to spend Sunday mornings hunting apexes. That’s simply not where its strengths lie.

The elephant in the room

Unfortunately, our time with the Bantam wasn’t completely trouble-free. Our particular test bike developed an intermittent issue with throttle response, which understandably limited some of the riding we were able to do with it. Importantly, this appeared to be a technical fault relating specifically to our test unit, so I’m reluctant to condemn the Bantam range based on one motorcycle experiencing an issue. Test vehicles occasionally have bad days too.

Before that problem appeared, throttle response and general engine behaviour had been perfectly usable, with that nice initial punch and smooth clutch making it particularly enjoyable in slower environments. So I’m mentioning it because reviews should reflect what actually happened, but I’m also placing a fairly substantial asterisk beside it.

So, who is it for?

This is probably the easiest part. At $6990, the Bantam represents a huge amount of motorcycle for comparatively little money. It’s accessible enough for newer riders, stylish enough that experienced riders aren’t going to feel like they’ve purchased a glorified training appliance, and simple enough to make everyday riding enjoyable. There are official accessories available too, including a flyscreen, headlight grille, bar-end mirrors and engine bars, so there’s some room to make it your own.

Would I call it perfect? No. The suspension would be the first thing I’d like to soften, motorway vibrations remind you that you’re riding a small-capacity single, and our particular bike’s technical hiccup was unfortunate. But strangely, none of those things completely ruined it for me because I kept coming back to how good it looked.

I’d park it, turn around and look back at it. And surely that’s one of the most important tests of motorcycle ownership? The Bantam isn’t pretending to be a superbike. It doesn’t need 150 horsepower, six riding modes or suspension settings requiring an engineering degree. It’s a handsome, approachable little motorcycle that will get you to work, pop through traffic, head out for coffee on the weekend and do it all without requiring you to remortgage your house.

Perhaps that’s where BSA has managed to connect the new Bantam with the old one after all. Motorcycling doesn’t always need to be complicated. Sometimes you just need to swing a leg over, press the starter and go. And for $6,990, the little Bantam makes a pretty compelling argument for exactly that.

BSA Bantam 350

$6990  / 3.3L/100km  /  77g/km

0-100 km/h 11.5s
Engine  334cc  single
Max power  21.4kW@7750rpm
Max torque  29.6Nm@6000rpm
Drivetrain Six-speed manual, chain final drive
Weight (claimed)  185kg