When my husband and I announced that we were going to Italy in our electric car, no one—from the e-bike-riding father to my Just Stop Oil-protesting daughter—thought it was a good idea.
Friends in Italy told us gloomily that charging stations were scarce as Italians “wait for hydrogen cars,” and when I posted our decision on Instagram, it sparked its own doomed reaction, suggesting we were optimistic at best, optimistic at worst were crazy.
We bought our electric vehicle (EV), an Audi Etron, about 18 months ago. The range is around 200 miles with the air conditioning turned off. The furthest we had traveled was to Dorset, which is about 140 miles from our home in London.
But after 12 hours of waiting at Gatwick, two flights were canceled and I was kicked off planes, I decided that whatever lay ahead couldn’t be worse than sleeping on an airport bench or that Airline lost the suitcase that contained the outfit I was wearing to a wedding the next day.
Marcus, my husband of 31 years who suffers from “range anxiety” quite badly, was less confident, but then I reminded him that before we had kids we drove around Europe quite often.
Power trip: Daisy Goodwin, who tackled Europe’s charging stations on her travels with her husband Marcus
We agreed it was time for an adventure and I booked the Eurotunnel shuttle for us.
Owning an electric car is a bit like being a new parent. Spontaneity is a thing of the past. Every trip must be planned with meticulous precision.
We used to just set off with half a tank of gas and a dog-eared map of Europe. As empty nesters, we set off with a fully charged battery (which should last 226 miles), a sat nav and about five apps that promised to tell us the location of every charging station between Isleworth and Istanbul.
At least in theory, it looked like we could reach our destination, a small town in southern Tuscany, in a few days.
We drove through south London on the way to Folkestone and had plenty of time to recharge while we waited for the shuttle. Unfortunately, when we arrived in Folkestone we realized that this was Elon Musk’s world. The only chargers in the parking lot were for Tesla drivers.
Don’t get me wrong, some of my best friends are Tesla drivers, but I think everyone deserves the right to charge.
Still, we had enough miles to get to northern France, and as Marcus said, “If we don’t find a charger, we still have enough miles to get back.”
By the time we got on the train, we had covered a comfortable 170 miles on the battery thanks to my calm driving habits. But imagine our surprise when we started the engine in France and discovered we had mysteriously lost 50 miles.
Daisy Goodwin details her and her husband Marcus’ trip to Italy in an electric car. Both pictured in November
The trick is to view these forced stops as a blessing
We felt like new parents again. What could be wrong with our precious German-made baby? I’m still not sure, although someone on my Instagram feed suggested that the train tampered with our loading bay. This all sounds a bit like Star Trek, but it’s worth keeping in mind if you’re planning on traveling across the English Channel.
The loss of charge meant a fight over the air conditioning. Driving with it reduces the range by about 40 miles. I felt like the price was worth it since it was a sweltering 32 degrees. Mr. Range Anxiety thought it would be safer to sweat.
Luckily, I identified a possible charging station on the Autoroute des Anglais. In the spirit of a compromise, I agreed to stew until we tried it, “so we could still go home if necessary.”
There were no fewer than four fast chargers at the gas station, and after about 15 minutes and a lot of fiddling with plugs and sockets, we reached the magical green light that signaled that our car was charging. The intense relief was comparable to the feeling of watching a colicky baby finally fall asleep.
When I signed up for the Chargemap app — which calculates exactly how long a trip will take including charging, where I need to stop, and whether the chargers are free and working — it sent me a plastic card called an RFID (Radio Frequency Identification Device). ).
This tells the charging station who you are and how you will pay. Ten minutes after you’re done, the network sends an email telling you how much you spent – in this case, 30 euros.
The RFID network is more reliable than a phone signal, so it’s important to have one of these cards before you head out.
Even if they don’t seem to work at first, we’ve found that with patience and persistence, most charging stations will eventually release their precious energy.
I am convinced that the gentle way I swiped the card across the electronic portal was the secret to my success. Marcus wasn’t so sure.
Charging the battery took 37 minutes on our first stop in France. This is the disadvantage of driving an electric car. Depending on your range and driving style, you’ll need to stop for a good 40 minutes every two hours.
The trick is to view these forced stops as a blessing. My husband, who finds that driving aggravates his frozen shoulder, has found that the forced rest prevented it from getting so bad.
During a service stop in France, we discovered that an outdoor gym had been installed there. This is a brilliant idea.
During the 30 minutes or so it took to charge the car, I started trying out some of the machines, but soon realized they were beyond me – sit-ups, yes; Pull-ups, definitely not.
Maybe enterprising gas station owners will set up a few Pilates machines next to the charging stations or, better yet, a blow-dry bar or beauty salon. Then I could go to Italy and look like Gwyneth Paltrow.
In the hotel the charger was only for Teslas
Two loads later, we decided to stay overnight in Troyes, a medieval town in central France. We chose our hotel because it advertised an electric vehicle charger, only to discover that it was (once again) only for Teslas.
My husband cursed. I called the app and found a fast charger in a nearby Lidl car park where we drove the next morning.
I spent a happy half hour wondering whether I should buy an inflatable paddleboard in the infamous center aisle.
We had hoped to reach Italy on the second night, but hadn’t factored in the two-hour queue at the Mont Blanc tunnel and decided to spend the night in Chamonix, a ski resort at the foot of the famous mountain.
This time we found a hotel with a working charger and had a lovely evening, knowing we would leave the next day with a full charge. We left at dawn and had a spectacular drive through the Alps to Italy.
We stopped to charge a few times and found that most gas stations had a phalanx of empty chargers that worked.
There are no gyms at Autogrills Italian highway stops, but the coffee is significantly better. Just like the price.
Stopping at Lidl in Troyes with a 150W fast charger cost 15 euros (£13), but the same charge at an Italian petrol station on the Autostrada del Sole cost double that at 30 euros (£26).
It’s difficult to predict how much electricity costs will be in advance, but off-highway chargers are usually cheaper, and the slower the charger, the less it costs.
By late afternoon we had, as the sat nav put it, “arrived at our destination”. It had taken longer than expected: we left London around 10am on Thursday and arrived in Tuscany at tea time on Saturday, but much to my husband’s surprise the journey went relatively smoothly.
Yes, there were a few challenging moments trying to figure out the weaknesses of the many different chargers – and you definitely need an umbrella, because charging stations don’t usually have a roof, unlike gas pumps.
It’s no fun working your RFID magic in the pouring rain. But overall it was fun. On the way back last week it rained non-stop. We’ve found that when I drive at a ladylike speed of 65 mph, we can go much longer between charges thanks to strategic regenerative braking, but when my husband drives at his usual speed, we have to stop more often.
He claims it makes no difference, I disagree.
We also argue about when to charge – he likes 80 miles of range, I’m comfortable with less.
The low point on the way home was when we stopped in Turin and realized all the chargers were full. I pointed out that arriving in a strange city at midnight is no fun.
Marcus felt that if we had stopped at a motorway charging station we would be fine now and mumbled something about wishing he was in a Mondeo.
I chose not to hear it.
He might even have said it again when our Chargemap card failed to work on the charger we eventually found in a suburb of Turin, but luckily I had another app, previously useless, itself but had decided to work at that moment. Not that I got any thanks.
It’s really not easy being green.
Our electric car fills the gap left by children
As for the cost, charging cost 244 euros on the way there and a little more on the way back, about 300 euros – which is about half the price you would pay with the comparable fossil fuel Audi.
I was wondering what it would have been like if we had little kids and I actually think it would work because having to stop every two hours means there’s no one in the back whining and desperately looking for a pee.
Despite all the dire predictions, the trip had been surprisingly pleasant.
Our Audi EV is by far the most comfortable car I’ve ever owned and I found the whole stopping thing really stimulating; It made our trip an experience and not a soulless rush from A to B.
Marcus and I were able to have those endless, open conversations that you can only really have in cars, and we learned to tolerate our respective attitudes toward range anxiety.
I turned off the air conditioning and Marcus began to trust me when I said that we would easily reach the next charging station in 15 miles.
Dare I say it, but our electric car is doing something to fill the gap left by children leaving home, because there is always something to talk about – and argue about.
Of course, electric cars are expensive today, but the price will come down over time and range anxiety will ease as technology improves and charging times shorten.
Maybe Elon Musk will eventually realize that letting other electric vehicle drivers use his network is the right thing to do.
And let’s hope someone invents a combined dating and charging app that makes stopping to charge at a gas station a lot more electric.
For long-married, middle-aged people like us, however, there is the comfort that travel is once again about the journey and not the destination.