Simon Hartley, a 47-year-old marketing consultant from Weybridge, has confirmed that his brand new Range Rover Electric has successfully transformed him from a man who could spontaneously drive to Cornwall into a man who spends Thursday evenings mapping charging points like he’s planning the D-Day landings.
The vehicle, which cost more than most people’s houses in 1987, now occupies the same mental space previously reserved for keeping a small child alive. Hartley admits he checks its battery percentage more often than his own phone, and has developed a Pavlovian anxiety response to any journey over 40 miles.
“I thought I was buying freedom,” Hartley explained, standing next to his gleaming SUV which was plugged into his garage like a life support machine. “Turns out I’ve bought a very expensive pet that needs feeding every night and gets stressed on long journeys. My mate Dave drives a 2015 Fiesta. He went to Scotland last weekend on a whim. A whim! I haven’t had one of those since March.”
The situation reached crisis point last Saturday when Hartley’s wife suggested a spontaneous trip to visit her mother in Herefordshire. The ensuing 35-minute discussion about charging infrastructure and range calculations killed any remaining spontaneity stone dead, and they ended up staying home to watch Antiques Roadshow instead.
“We’ve now got three separate apps for finding chargers,” said Jennifer Hartley, Simon’s wife and unwilling co-pilot in this brave new world. “Two of them don’t talk to each other. One requires a separate membership. It’s like trying to navigate using three different maps that all insist Norwich is in a completely different place. Last week we had to have a cream tea in Exeter we didn’t even want because that’s where a working fast charger was.”
The Range Rover, which boasts a theoretical range of 258 miles, apparently interprets this figure more as a suggestion than a promise. According to Hartley, the actual range varies depending on factors including temperature, wind direction, whether Mercury is in retrograde, and seemingly the car’s mood that morning.
“I used to judge my life in memories and experiences,” Hartley said, scrolling through his phone to show a spreadsheet of charging station locations along the M4 corridor. “Now I judge it in kilowatt hours and charging speeds. I know which Tesco in Reading has a broken charger. I have opinions about the Ionity network. I’m invited to fewer dinner parties.”
Asked if he regretted the purchase, Hartley paused. “Look, it’s a lovely car. Absolutely beautiful. Quiet, smooth, very comfortable for the 180-mile radius I’m now contractually obliged to remain within.”
He added that he’s considering selling it and buying something more practical. “Maybe a horse,” he said. “At least you can feed those anywhere.”