Earlier this month, we spent a few days in the south Dublin enclave of west Cork.
Herself insisted that she drive, in her car, claiming that we would be encountering narrow country roads and my car wouldn’t be able to squeeze through or find places to turn. This was patent nonsense – my car isn’t a tank. It’s also old and covered in scratches already. But because I’m quite content to be a passenger, I agreed.
We both knew the real reason. Herself’s car is new and she wanted to test it out on a longer trip.
It’s electric.
We decided to drive the new EV across the country. It wasn’t long before things became tense
Gardening feels like outdoor housework to me but my wife is caught in its grip
One of the greatest joys of an overpriced meal out in Dublin’s southside? Eavesdropping
Yes, I’m a grump, but I don’t get all the fuss about barbecues
Cue dramatic music.
We didn’t enter into this completely oblivious; just mostly oblivious. We knew about range anxiety, that there were different sort of chargers and different sorts of apps that went with them. We’d heard people give out about it. Herself knew that driving around Dublin isn’t the same as going cross-country. Mostly she charged the car at work or at home. She had done it in garages a few times and reported it was straightforward: plug in and pay the bill. Just like buying petrol.
So we set off with a fully charged car and my phone bulging with different apps, all of which claimed to be able to tell you where the nearest chargers were, whether they were vacant and whether they were working. All required credit card and other personal details. All of them carried a map section showing where the nearest chargers were. But they all seemed to share the same flaw: they didn’t know where we were. If, say, we were passing Portlaoise, a blue dot would appear representing us. But the dot remained stationary, stuck in the same spot. The apps seemed unwilling to accept that we were moving.
[ Electric vehicle Q&A: Which EV charging point apps do I need?Opens in new window ]
Nonetheless, we arrived intact at our first service station, which we chose because it contained a variety of chargers. The one we pulled up at required an app to operate it. But this was news to the app, which failed to register our presence. Then it did. Then it didn’t. The charger refused to take any payment. Then it charged us twice. (Which was returned).
In the car, things had become a little tense.
Yet on we went, reaching our second planned charging location. Two of the plugs didn’t work. Once again the app had no idea where we were. When I located the actual garage on the app, the information didn’t correspond to what was written on the charging station. Yet, miraculously, we got the process going.
As soon as this happened, a woman pulled up in a D-reg car and demanded to know how long we would be there. When I informed her that we had just arrived, she looked at the phone she was holding. “F**king app,” she said to no one in particular, and sped off.
[ From Dublin to Mayo: will my EV get me to a family wedding on time?Opens in new window ]
We whiled away the next 40 minutes by walking around the garage. We watched guiltily as a line of cars formed behind ours. When we were pretty sure we had enough charge to get us to our destination, we relinquished our coveted spot. But we couldn’t get the charging cable to unlock from the car. Herself rang a customer service number. They managed to free us, but couldn’t explain why this had happened.
For the rest of the journey, I looked for a charging point at every garage we passed. It was striking how few of them there were.
But that’s just one part of it. Believing in free enterprise and competition is grand, but there are instances where government has to get a bit North Korean: legislate that all charging points be plug and play. No apps: that’s just information capture. Let them compete on ease of use and the speed of the charge. Currently, “choice” makes running an EV more, not less difficult.
