Mercedes EQS: a road trip in TG's luxury car of 2021

The official claim is a monstrous 454 miles of maximum range. Enough, at the glance of a Google Map route planner, to schlep between the respective capitals of Scotland and England without visiting a public charger and being tempted by pallid insta-coffee or a tillside 3-in-1 phone-mount/ice scraper/head torch.

But this drive-an-EV-a-long-way story is not like all the others, because I’m doing nothing to help. The aircon is on, the atmosphere purified and scented. Devices will be charged, my backside massaged, heated and indeed ventilated. Sometimes all at once.

Photography: Mark Riccioni

No one will buy a £100,000 expression of the ultimate in zero-emission German sumptuousness and expect to hypermile with a fetid dishcloth in their lap for demisting the windows. The EQS has to work not as a dependable electric saloon, but an exceptional stress free, brow unfurrowing express. EVs, in 2021, still do not meet ‘stress free’ eye to eye.

Things begin splendidly. I collect the EQS from Mercedes’ South Midlands HQ. It’s been prepared by a man with helium shoes and a very early alarm call: the dashboard proudly predicts a suspiciously epic 484 miles of endurance. I plan to whoosh up to Edinburgh, score some sexy after-dark shots of what’s easily the best night time car cabin on Earth, plug in overnight and sleep soundly ahead of a soothing southbound leg tomorrow.

The universe disagrees, and a few hundred metres north of the border, the only left-rear EQS tyre in the UK wheezes to a flabby pancake in a matter of seconds. The sidewall is breached. B*******.

My camera bearing colleagues and I valiantly sulk off in our S400d support car to Berwick-upon-Tweed’s nearest McShelter. Help arrives a couple of hours later, and the tyre is patched. None of this is the EQS’s fault, but all of a sudden we have to get to Edinburgh in a hurry, I’m tired and irritable, and we’ve eaten deep into photography and recharging time.

Nestled in the EQS’s pillow headrests, its butler-esque personality immediately goes to work on my grouchy mood. This is not a car you can remain tense inside – it’s simply too imperious to remain cross at the world from within. An early night and memory cards bulging with artfully lit shots are a distant fantasy, but I close my eyes optimistic about reaching Admiralty Arch – my chosen finish line 397 miles south – without eyeing a Greggs.

However, caning it to base camp has upset the maths. A 100 per cent overnight juice results in a predicted 385 miles of charge. I resolve that’ll climb as we settle into the cruise, and head down from Edinburgh Castle’s vantage point towards the city limits.

Ever since I drove the EQS I’ve been perturbed that other cars don’t open their doors for me when I touch the handle

Still not hypermiling, you understand. We join the A1 – a more direct, if a half hour slower, route that’s far prettier and more evocative than the dreary M6 – at 75mph and stay there, overtaking lorries and gliding past Nissan Leafs and Jaguar I-Paces desperately camped in their slipstream.

The EQS is a magnificent distance crusher. You could dig into the science of why – a long-gaited 3.2m wheelbase, world record aero slipperiness, and no Victorian fuel combustion to interrupt the ambience – but that sort of demeans the effect, like the illusionist explaining the trick, the comedian clarifying the punchline.

It’s Rolls-Royce Phantom peaceful, and like those “have I gone deaf?” moments after a weary parent pacifies a screaming child on a packed Airbus, you only appreciate just how tiring droning noise is after it’s been muted. An S-Class can’t do this. Not this well.

Luxury isn’t just tactile metal, rich leathers and tasteful wood, though the EQS is exquisitely festooned with the lot. It’s about time saving, effort reducing measures. Ever since I drove the EQS I’ve been perturbed that other cars don’t open their doors for me when I touch the handle. Or close it again with a squeeze of the brake pedal. And most other EVs are nowhere near as comprehensive in the charger mapping they offer. Hmm. Hold that thought.

Back in England, efficiency is steady at 3.6 miles per kWh. Almost twice what I got from an Audi e-tron SUV earlier this year, but still 80 miles short of claimed range, and running out around Brent Cross, not on The Mall. I feather the cruise control back to 69mph. Set the aircon to Eco. A slightly more responsible luxury.

Unlike a Roller or a Maybach, this is a car to be up front in, not reclined in the (admittedly roomy) rear seats where the sweeping rear pillars envelope you in cocooning privacy. Not because this is in any way an entertaining machine to drive – it’s merely swift rather than revisit-lunchtime-oysters fast and the suspension is old school compliance focused, rather than body roll allergic.

No, you’ll want to be in the captain’s seat so you’ve command of the Hyperscreen. Actually three separate displays under one 55-inch arc of toughened anti-glare glass, it’s an ambitious anti-Tesla mic drop from Mercedes.

Imperfect so far – the menu rendering is right on the limit of what the processors can stomach, and half of the passenger side features are greyed out when underway to avoid driver distraction. But as a statement of technological intent from the oldest brand in the biz, it’s a sensational centrepiece.

The pixels that count are the ones that flash up a yellow battery situation critical warning with 30 miles’ range remaining, 45 left to run. I don’t want to block an arterial London road on a Friday afternoon. I don’t want the indignity of introducing the EQS to Britain with a breakdown. It deserves better.

I bail at Hatfield, having run 379 silent miles. The Hyperscreen obediently locates local chargers, filtered by charging speed, which are actually working, and which are occupied. It’s correct on all fronts. So even when the journey became fraught, the EQS soaked up the anxiety. It’s a fabulous blend of traditional luxury – which Tesla can only dream of – and (at last from Mercedes) a proper intent to build a credible electric car.

EVs are all ideally large, effortlessly quick, heavy and eerily quiet. It stands to reason the best type of EV is not a sports car
or an off-roader or even a family hatch: it’s a plutocratic saloon. The EQS takes full advantage. Good enough for 400 miles without stopping? Not quite. Good enough to pick up where the S-Class leaves off? Undoubtedly.