The Lake District is a long way from my place and I’m going there to cheer on a friend who’s taking part in a fell race. It’s a test of his stamina and mine, or rather my electric car’s. It’s the long-range Ford Mustang Mach-E that can supposedly take you 379 miles before recharging, but I’m beset by the kind of mental gremlins that afflict runners.
One hears wild tales of range overestimation and technical brick walls. I have to be back home in Cornwall the next day for business reasons. But it would allow me to answer the motoring question of the hour — can you replace your petrol car with an electric model if you drive long distances, for business or pleasure?
The answer is no and, furthermore, if somebody doesn’t get a grip soon we ought to abandon the whole electric idea as a blind alley and wait for hydrogen. The charging infrastructure is a shambles of different plug types, multiple providers with different apps, unfathomable tariffs and glacial charging speeds. Even if you negotiate the technical quagmire you’ll find the charger as often as not is broken, or it’s blocked by another car that’s going to be there for an hour or more.
I drove 1,000 miles over three days and it took years off my life. The car itself is an absolute delight. Stylish, comfortable and so quiet you can hear the bows scrape on the cello strings on the Bang & Olufsen, it glides regally and goes like a scalded cat when you give it the beans. Better built than a Tesla Model X and about half the price, it attracts compliments you can hear above the ambient whisper. But oh, what a rage-inducing hassle feeding your Pony becomes.
I picked up the car in London and went to my nearest recharging point, an Ubitricity outlet in Richmond, southwest London. The point was behind a resident’s parking bay, and in Richmond they’re always taken. Even with an extra-long lead it was unusable. I took advice from electric car owners. Download the apps in advance and always leave enough range to get to the next charge point, and preferably the one after that. One of the better apps, I was told, was BP Pulse. I downloaded that and put £50 on it.
Business took me to Denham, near Heathrow, and the app pointed me to a BP garage in Gerrards Cross, Buckinghamshire, where superfast charging at 150kW is promised. I couldn’t get the BP app to work and spent 20 minutes getting through to the helpline, where a helpful man talked me through the process before telling me that the charger I was on wasn’t working.
I eventually found another on a street corner in Hounslow and spent 90 minutes catching up on emails while pondering how much commitment an oil company has to helping the demise of oil.
Battery technology has improved a thousandfold since the advent of the mobile phone, but even the latest Li-ion battery holds less energy, weight for weight, as a cheese sandwich, which means it’s always hungry for charge. And feeding it is time-consuming. The Mustang’s sat-nav showed all the chargers, but not their speed. A 50kW charger is almost acceptable, but at 7kW it takes 11 hours to top up.
The next day I headed north, stopping after 136 miles at the Holiday Inn off the M6 Toll at Cannock. There are two bays there but only one charger, and I had to wait half an hour for the other fellow to finish. After 90 minutes a lot of chargers sting you an extra £10 for hogging the bay, and by then I’d put only another 20 per cent into the battery — but it was enough. I arrived in the Lakes with 140 miles in the bank.
In Borrowdale my friend Michael Chapman had recently bought an electric Peugeot and installed a home charger, so an overnight fill put me back at 98 per cent. Michael calculated the cost at £6, which was covered by the bottle of good Châteauneuf-du-Pape I’d brought.
Before dawn the next day I was up to cheer on my friend who’d been running the Lakeland 100 since 6pm the previous evening. My duty done, I prayed the Mustang could match him for staying power. It was 407 miles to Bodmin and I hit the M6 just after 7am. Fifty miles down the road I needed coffee and pulled into Moto Lancaster services where I saw an Ecotricity charger with nobody on it — and you just needed a credit card. Even at the price they charge “non-members” I wasn’t going to miss the chance to top up. After 88 minutes I was up to 95 per cent, but with 350 miles to go I would need one more charge en route to be sure.
Ford Mustang Mach-E
The BP app showed Worcester to be well served with chargers. All six at St Martin’s Gate car park had covers on them indicating they were out of use. Around the corner in Crowngate Shopping Centre there were two in a dark corner of a multistorey. One was occupied, so I squeezed into the next bay. The charger sported a Union Jack bearing the legend “Funded by UK government” and it was broken, all three cables spread forlornly in the dirt. With the other chap only at 40 per cent it looked as though it would be a long wait, so I set a course for the Malvern hotel six miles away, where the app showed a 50kW charger free. Alas, by the time I got there it was taken.
Cheltenham Racecourse was only 30 miles distant. On the way down the M5 I passed the approach sign for Strensham services, which bore the Ecotricity logo! In I went, to find a youth directing holiday traffic. “’Scuse me, where’s the car charger?”
“We don’t have any.”
“But it says Ecotricity on your sign.”
“We still don’t have any. There are some at Gloucester.”
There were indeed two at Gloucester Services — and both were occupied. One driver had got there a minute ahead of me, the other was at 45 per cent. I took a vacant bay and waited. Three other electric cars drew up to wait; we discussed the shambolic state of the charging infrastructure.
When Mrs 45 per cent relinquished her spot I went to plug in. I stood there looking baffled until she whispered: “You need the app for that one.”
But it’s the same as the previous one that only needed a credit card, I said weakly.
“You need the app.”
I pointed my phone at the QR code to access the app. “Page not found.” Why wasn’t I surprised?
I suggested to one of the waiting drivers that he might use his app to fill my car and I give him the money. He declined, and I don’t blame him — it sounded like a scam even to me. I slunk off to the nearest 50kW charger on the BP app, 12 miles away at a Holiday Inn. Thankfully it was free and recognised my credit card.
An hour and a half later I had enough power to get home. I glided into Bodmin soon after 7pm having been on the road for 12 hours, of which almost six were spent charging or hunting for charging points. As I collapsed into bed I pondered that, on the basis of discussions with other drivers, my experience was the norm. Electric cars would be perfect if you charged them overnight with a home wallbox, then used them only to run around locally before repeating the process. Or if you drove them only within the battery range of the vehicle. Beyond that you’d better be prepared for delays and disappointments.
As to cost, I’m confused. Before I left I put £50 into the app, and it’s still there — BP Pulse debited my credit card for the juice. The cost was £7 in Hounslow, £10.67 in Cannock, £3.10 in Lancaster and £13.37 in Gloucester. Plus a bottle of Châteauneuf.
Despite the manifest problems, I’m still going electric. Hydrogen is probably beyond the horizon. Petrol and diesel prices are only going one way. More chargers are coming, but the government needs to take matters by the scruff of the neck. Without urgent action the electric dream is going to turn into a nightmare.