Here's what it's like living with a Mercedes EQC for a weekend

I’ve just spent a weekend with a Merc EQC. It was fascinating. So rather than a straight road test (you can read that here), I thought I’d tell you what it was like to spend time with. It’s about the same size as the Range Rover Velar I drive most days, a little smaller than an Audi e-tron (which we group-tested against a Tesla Model X and Jaguar I-Pace earlier this year). Underneath the 80kWh battery promises a range of 232-259 miles, and there’s an electric motor at each end which deliver 402bhp and 560lb ft. 0-62mph takes 5.1secs and a 112mph maximum. It weighs 2,495kg.

The copper airvents, but I don’t want to talk about those now. Instead let me tell you about the first thing that irritated me. It has no normal USB ports. Merc’s first new-era electric car demands you’re a tech early-adopter across the spectrum: it has three USB-C ports up front, but nothing else. Not even a 12 volt. I’m a luddite, so ended up stopped at traffic lights, reaching round the back of the centre console and discovering a 12 volt plug there. Phone battery saved, Bluetooth connection established.

I’m not sure. The interior quality, probably. That’s stunning. And how little adaptation it needed. This, of course, is the crux of the matter. Both Audi and Merc have watched BMW’s i brand struggle to sell braver, bolder cars, so they’re playing it conservatively. So there’s a start-stop button to turn it on and off, Merc’s conventional column-mounted gearlever, controls where you expect to find them, doing the job you expect. It’s just a bit more ornate. The metal strakes, the copper touches, the materials, design and textures. But there’s a lot going on. And that’s before I get started on the dash screens. How are you meant to know where to look? Or how to operate it with only touch pads? I was halfway home before I spotted the tiny graphic that shows what recuperation mode you’re in. There are four of those, selected by pulling paddles so it’s like engine braking.

We’re going out to the pub on Friday night. From the back it looks just like a regular Merc SUV, so the family didn’t twig until we pulled off the drive and accelerated silently up the road. My wife immediately wanted to know what we were going to do on Sunday when we’re off to meet friends 80 miles away at the beach. I told her about the 230 mile range and that since it had just averaged 2.8 miles per kilowatt hour on the 60 miles out of London, that equates to 224 miles. She pointed out there would be more weight on board – and wasn’t I planning on taking my bike? That was going to have to go on the outside, causing drag – what difference would that make? This started a conversation about efficiency, which ended up with her asking “well, why do they fit such wide tyres then?” (they’re 235/50 R20s). It’s a fair point. Two answers: Merc’s too scared to break with convention, and the damn thing weighs 2,495kg. The latter explains why the EQC demands very high tyre pressures: 40/47psi (2.8 and 3.2 bar).

Any Tesla drivers out there have issues getting the lead to release from the car socket? The other day I couldn’t release a Model 3 via the app, the in-car screen or the thin sliver of credit card that passes for a key. Elon’s button banishment. Anyway, Merc’s solution is typically over-engineered. I plugged it in when we got back from the pub. It was dark, so took a second to realise there’s a secondary flap inside the main flap (which looks exactly like a conventional fuel filler). There’s also a useful release button under the outer flap. I’m informed it’ll take six hours to recharge from my 7kw PodPoint home charger, but it’s all off-peak – so that’s rough 10p for every 3 miles of charge added. I later work out that 10p of diesel would get the Velar, even on the rare occasions it does 40mpg, less than 0.7 miles.

For some reason it’s Saturday evening and I’m on my way out of another pub before I properly consider the front of the EQC. What draws me is the fact it has a daft light bar running across the front as well as the back. It’s heavy-handed. And the nose, while smooth and aerodynamic, just ain’t very nice to look at. Too much plastic. In fact the whole car is leaden and lacks inspiration.

Did enjoy the lightshow the headlights put on when they fire up. All EQCs have full LED headlights, and when you switch on at night little lights dance across the road like sprites.

I’m packing for the beach and can’t help noticing the EQC has a boot release just like a VW Golf’s. And a very, very high boot floor. Can’t see why given there’s a good underfloor storage bay. But the boot simply isn’t very big. 500 litres, says Merc, which is the same as any small premium estate such as an A4 or 3 Series. Luckily I only have two kids and the centre seat folds flat, otherwise our highly fashionable windbreak would have had to stay at home. Our much more fashionable paddle board basically fills the boot. A picnic, bag of towels and pair of chairs are crammed in around it. I can barely see anything out the back.

Not well. There’s really not much legroom in the back (it’s based on similar underpinnings to the entry-level £40k GLC SUV), and it’s surprisingly dark. A bigger sunroof would help, but what I’m curious about is why Merc has made the cabin’s shoulder line so high.

Of course it did, carried on a SeaSucker rack on the roof, and due to the sheer weight of traffic also making its way to the coast at 9.15 on a Sunday morning, it didn’t seem to adversely affect the EQCs energy consumption, which looked like it was settled in at about 2.5mpkwh.

But then, 12 miles down the road, I realised I’d left my cycling shoes at home. As my wife pointed out, if anyone else had forgotten anything we wouldn’t be turning back. But I had, so we did. The half hour delay we could cope with, the 24 miles knocked off the range for no reason were potentially more problematic, though. A conversation began in the car. What if we can’t get home? Then we stop and charge up, I said. Tell you what, the family decided, why don’t you drop us at the beach and then go and charge up by yourself. It wasn’t phrased as a question.

The family spent a good proportion of the M27 downloading ZapMap and getting introduced to a whole new lexicon. This is the learning curve of electric cars and unless you drive a Tesla and have access to Supercharging, the complexity of networks, apps, payment and charging is not simple. Anyway, having even got down to discussing wind direction at one stage, we get to West Wittering with 54 per cent remaining, so I’m given a reprieve.

But that wasn’t all. It might be the summer holidays, but my son has maths work to do (don’t feel sorry for him, he’s bought it on himself). So he’s in the back trying to work. And soon complains about the ride. Being heavy and softly sprung, body control isn’t great. It is terrifically quiet, vibration-free and smooth running though. And I do like the variable recuperation – in D+ you can coast along without losing momentum, while pulling the down paddle to D- - provides enough retardation that you don’t need to touch the brakes. Watching the brake lights of conventional cars illuminate on the downhill stretches makes you realise how wasteful they are, simply dissipating their energy instead of recuperating.

Well, for starters I was in the car, not on my bike. Entirely my fault. Because the boot was full I’d assumed everything was in it, but in fact I’d left not just my cycling shoes, but all my kit behind. So the bike was back on the roof into a headwind having had a completely wasted journey. End result: 2.3mpkwh average and a couple of diversions means we got home with 14 per cent charge left, 30 miles range. I hadn’t driven fast or hard and the Eco display informed me that over 80 miles I’d earned back 20.6miles of recuperation, which sounds good, but must be factored into the WLTP-authorised range anyway, not added on top.

I can see why it’s the right car to appeal to existing Mercedes buyers and I did enjoy the smoothness and silence of driving it. I got back in the Velar afterwards and it felt mechanically prehistoric. The EQC also had a tight turning circle and the interior feels properly expensive. Enough to justify pricing that starts at £65,640, and with this car costing £76,910 as tested (before the grant is applied)?

Our HSE Dynamic Velar isn’t much cheaper as tested, and although much more handsome inside and out, the EQC isn’t much smaller and will be much cheaper to run. But for upwards of £65k surely you want a bigger family SUV, something that can cope with the kit and distance? I still reckon a Volvo XC90, Disco 5 or Audi Q7 take some beating. I think the e-tron is slightly better than this, too. Bit bigger and easier to get on with. Makes more sense in my head.

Not much – as I said earlier, about a quarter of what a diesel costs, under £12 for over 300 miles of use I reckon. Charged at home only. And the WLTP range is pretty accurate: drive relatively modestly, don’t exceed the speed limit and I reckon you’d get 230 miles from the EQC easily enough.

I’m getting used to electric cars, but am still puzzled that firms want to market them as the first car for every household, the big car, the one we expect to do the big family trips. In my head people are more likely to adopt them as a second car – there’s less financial involvement in that one, it’s the machine that does the school runs and shops, never does more than 50 miles a day. Roll on the £30k electric A-Class.