Little E & Me
Abhishek Uchil
Owner - Mahindra e2o
City - Mumbai
Owner - Mahindra e2o
City - Mumbai
IMAGICA Road Trip -- My Electric Car Ran Out of Charge!
Bombay to Nasik: A Stressful Journey in the Mahindra e2o! - Without Charging!
North Mumbai to South Mumbai and back! - Without Charging!
All electric Roadtrip to Udvada - My first road trip in an all electric car!
Bombay to Nasik: A Stressful Journey in the Mahindra e2o! - Without Charging!
North Mumbai to South Mumbai and back! - Without Charging!
All electric Roadtrip to Udvada - My first road trip in an all electric car!
I’ve always been the black sheep of my family. ‘Think different’, went the famous Apple ad campaign. Easier said than done in a country like India, where conformity is expected and individuality is looked upon as unnatural and even dangerous. For an Indian child who hates maths and science but loves literature, loathes cricket but enjoys computer games, and prefers reading about the exploits of fictional characters to interacting with real people, the road to adulthood is filled with potholes. Such has been my experience. Now, at the age of twenty-six, I cannot say for certain that I am any the worse for it. I only know that I have some good friends who share my interests, family members who love me despite my idiosyncrasies, and a career that allows me to indulge my passions and pays me well enough to do so. The reader will be the judge on whether all this adds up to a fulfilling life; my main reason for sharing all this background information is to dispel any doubts in readers’ minds that when I bought my Mahindra e2o, my reasons for doing so had anything to do with appearing fashionable or ‘hip’. If you see someone my age driving around in one of these things, chances are you may automatically go, ‘Oh, there’s another fellow with too much money and a chip on his shoulder’. The latter insinuation is certainly true, but that has more to do with my genuine concern for the state of the environment than anything else. This concern is the only reason I even own the e2o (or ‘Little E’, as I’ve chosen to name it after the title character from the children’s tale ‘The Little Engine That Could’).
I’ve never liked cars. Actually, perhaps I should say, I used to never like cars before the e2o. They always seemed like coffins on four wheels, what with the impossible amounts of noxious gases they emitted and their propensity for getting into accidents. Of course, that was in an older, less enlightened India. One could argue that times have somewhat changed for the better now. Safety standards have almost reached international levels, and unleaded fuel and alternative fuels like CNG and LPG have become common. Every year, new cars go into production that offer safety and comfort at a reasonable price. But the catch is that this inevitably leads to more cars on the road, leading to more congestion, more air pollution, and more noise pollution. We’ve attained high standards of safety and comfort, but alternatives to conventional fuels are desperately needed. The e2o is a step in the right direction in this regard, but one of the reasons it’s not selling as well as Mahindra would like is that the limited range of 100–120 km make it a city car for the most part. Now, while I agree that a network of fast-charging stations is desperately needed, I would be the first to challenge the notion that the e2o is only a city car. I can attest to its road worthiness on the highway, because I’ve driven the car as far as Poona, Lavasa, and Palghar. This has largely been possible thanks to the efforts of the EV community in Bombay and Poona, who have been instrumental in setting up a network of charge points in both cities and on the highway connecting them.
Here i document my travel experiences with Little E !
I’ve never liked cars. Actually, perhaps I should say, I used to never like cars before the e2o. They always seemed like coffins on four wheels, what with the impossible amounts of noxious gases they emitted and their propensity for getting into accidents. Of course, that was in an older, less enlightened India. One could argue that times have somewhat changed for the better now. Safety standards have almost reached international levels, and unleaded fuel and alternative fuels like CNG and LPG have become common. Every year, new cars go into production that offer safety and comfort at a reasonable price. But the catch is that this inevitably leads to more cars on the road, leading to more congestion, more air pollution, and more noise pollution. We’ve attained high standards of safety and comfort, but alternatives to conventional fuels are desperately needed. The e2o is a step in the right direction in this regard, but one of the reasons it’s not selling as well as Mahindra would like is that the limited range of 100–120 km make it a city car for the most part. Now, while I agree that a network of fast-charging stations is desperately needed, I would be the first to challenge the notion that the e2o is only a city car. I can attest to its road worthiness on the highway, because I’ve driven the car as far as Poona, Lavasa, and Palghar. This has largely been possible thanks to the efforts of the EV community in Bombay and Poona, who have been instrumental in setting up a network of charge points in both cities and on the highway connecting them.
Here i document my travel experiences with Little E !
Introduction
Welcome back to another EV road trip story! This account is of a trip I undertook to Nasik recently to visit the famous Trimbakeshwar Temple. The distance from Bombay to Nasik is about 180 km, and the route contains a few charging stations that we installed before the 2017 ReLive event, which was conducted in January 2017 (http://www.pluginindia.com/blogs/relive-2017-electric-vehicle-rally-to-nashik).
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My mother recently got it into her head that she wanted to go to the Trimbakeshwar Temple, which is just on the outskirts of Nasik. My family is not particularly religious, but my mother does visit religious destinations like Shirdi on occasion, and this time, she wanted the whole family to tag along. However, because I had only a day to spare, it was decided that my family would head to Trimbakeshwar before me and that I would join them there on the last day. My brother decided to travel with me, and so my parents went ahead in our Maruti Alto. Thus, I had the perfect opportunity to do a small road trip in my Mahindra e2o – Little E – and check whether the charge points we had installed were still operational.
Welcome back to another EV road trip story! This account is of a trip I undertook to Nasik recently to visit the famous Trimbakeshwar Temple. The distance from Bombay to Nasik is about 180 km, and the route contains a few charging stations that we installed before the 2017 ReLive event, which was conducted in January 2017 (http://www.pluginindia.com/blogs/relive-2017-electric-vehicle-rally-to-nashik).
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My mother recently got it into her head that she wanted to go to the Trimbakeshwar Temple, which is just on the outskirts of Nasik. My family is not particularly religious, but my mother does visit religious destinations like Shirdi on occasion, and this time, she wanted the whole family to tag along. However, because I had only a day to spare, it was decided that my family would head to Trimbakeshwar before me and that I would join them there on the last day. My brother decided to travel with me, and so my parents went ahead in our Maruti Alto. Thus, I had the perfect opportunity to do a small road trip in my Mahindra e2o – Little E – and check whether the charge points we had installed were still operational.
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My parents left for Trimbakeshwar on Thursday, 23 Jan, and I planned to leave on Saturday, 25 Jan. Because I wanted to be at Trimbakeshwar at 5 AM on Sunday, ideally, I should have left no later than 4 PM on Saturday so that I could reach Trimbakeshwar by 11 PM or 12 AM and catch some shut-eye before going to the temple. However, I had made plans to watch a play at 4 PM at Bombay’s famous NCPA auditorium, and by the time the play was over and I reached home, it was already 9:30 PM. Things were not off to a great start, but needs must. So, as soon as I reached home, I grabbed my travel bag, stuffed a day’s worth of clothes into it, grabbed my mobile phone, Kindle, power bank, and (for good measure) the book I was reading at the moment, and set off to my parents’ house to pick up my brother.
I should mention here that I had to take an Uber to the NCPA and back because the distance from my house to the NCPA is 37 km, and a round trip of 75 km in Little E would have left me with a range of 45 km, necessitating a three-hour charge after I returned home from the play – which was time I did not have. The taxi ride cost me a total of 1,100 rupees ($20), when taking the e2o would have cost me less than 100 rupees ($1.5). If the e2o had a range of at least 200 km, or if quick charging for the e2o had been available, I could have taken the e2o to the NCPA with confidence. This is why, while 120 km is a good amount of range for city driving, if Mahindra wants electric cars to go mainstream in India, then they absolutely have to give people the ability to travel at least 250 to 300 km on a single charge. The distance to Trimbakeshwar is 160 to 185 km from Bombay, depending on which part of the latter city you live in. For me, the distance was 185 km. The route I intended to take had two stops with charge points – one in Asangaon and the other in Igatpuri. Both these towns are about 50 km away from each other, and Asangaon is about 50 km from Thane in Bombay, while Igatpuri is about 50 km away from Nasik. We had deliberately chosen the 50 km distance marker so that e2o drivers would have the ability to come back if they reached a charge point and it turned out to be non-functional. |
Bombay to Trimbakeshwar
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My brother and I left my parents’ house at 10 PM with 117 km of range in the car. The first leg of the journey – Kandivali to Asangaon – covered a distance of 80 km. I wasn’t worried because I had already phoned ahead to the charge point in Asangaon and informed the people in charge that I would be arriving at about 12 AM. I was quite confident at first that we could cover the distance in two hours, but a quick glance at Google Maps showed me that there was heavy traffic on the route to Thane. This infuriated me because it was past 10 PM at night on a Saturday, but I suppose it’s one of those things you have to deal with in the ‘city that never sleeps’. The road to JVLR (a major route that connects Western Bombay to Eastern Bombay, from where one can take numerous roads out of Bombay island and into the mainland of India), while in no way traffic free, was manageable. But as soon as we crossed over to Eastern Bombay and reached the suburb of Powai, things started to go awry. In addition to the signals and four-way crossings every few kilometres, there were pockets of traffic everywhere. Nevertheless, we trudged along until we reached the Eastern Express Highway, the long, snake-like highway that extends all the way from Northeast Bombay to Southeast Bombay. The highway was totally packed, and there wasn’t a square inch of space for cars to move faster than 2 or 3 kmph. Slowly, agonisingly, we made it to Thane. The route took so long that there was no chance of us reaching Asangaon before 1 AM. For the life of me, I could not understand where all this traffic had come from. I noticed that most of it was comprised of taxis – Uber, Ola, etc. The low prices offered by these taxi aggregators has allowed a lot more people to travel in the air-conditioned comfort of taxis than was possible even five years ago, but this has happened at the cost of exacerbating Bombay’s traffic condition, which (at least in my lifetime) was never very good to begin with. And let’s not forget the amount of air and noise pollution that’s being caused by the increased number of vehicles on the road.
Once we crossed over from Thane into the mainland, the traffic eased up, and we were finally able to breathe. I was in a seriously bad mood because my entire travel schedule had been disrupted by the traffic, and I was sure that we wouldn’t reach Trimbakeshwar before 6 AM now. The cool air and the luxury of space that the dual carriageway afforded helped me to calm down somewhat. Now that there were fewer smaller cars on the road, the only things I needed to worry about were lorries. Anyone who has driven in India knows the kind of vehicular acrobatics these lorry drivers get up to in the night-time, when there are fewer cars on the road and they have the freedom to manoeuvre. I ensured that I was well behind or in front of any lorry I came across and managed to drive without any problems.
Once we crossed over from Thane into the mainland, the traffic eased up, and we were finally able to breathe. I was in a seriously bad mood because my entire travel schedule had been disrupted by the traffic, and I was sure that we wouldn’t reach Trimbakeshwar before 6 AM now. The cool air and the luxury of space that the dual carriageway afforded helped me to calm down somewhat. Now that there were fewer smaller cars on the road, the only things I needed to worry about were lorries. Anyone who has driven in India knows the kind of vehicular acrobatics these lorry drivers get up to in the night-time, when there are fewer cars on the road and they have the freedom to manoeuvre. I ensured that I was well behind or in front of any lorry I came across and managed to drive without any problems.
Reached Asangaon
It was 12:45 when I finally reached Asangaon with a range of 45 km. The actual distance between Bombay and the charge point is 82 km, which meant that I had gained 7 km during the drive thanks to the e2o’s always useful regenerative braking technology. This meant that I could save myself 15 minutes of charge time (my e2o charges at an approximate rate of 12 km in 30 minutes). The charge point is in a small district town called Shahapur a few kilometres after Asangaon and is located in Cibo Resort (https://www.tripadvisor.in/Hotel_Review-g4041426-d8738499-Reviews-Cibo_Escape-Shahapur_Maharashtra.html). It is run by a very nice family, the Thakurs. Vinod Thakur owns the resort, and he was kind enough to host us during the rally. There are two cottages at the resort, along with an open area for camping and stargazing and a wooded area for camping under the trees. There is also a lake nearby where water sports can be enjoyed. The charge point is located in an open area with space for numerous cars. Vinod was awake and waiting for me and my brother when we arrived, and he let us plug in and led us to the cottages to rest while the car charged. I had a nice conversation with Vinod, who is an amiable man with knowledge on a lot of topics. We discussed electric vehicles, content writing (my profession), and the benefits of living in the countryside! At about 1:15, I went to bed for a small nap. The cottage was cool and spacious; there was an air conditioner, but we didn’t need it because the temperature was quite pleasant.
It was 12:45 when I finally reached Asangaon with a range of 45 km. The actual distance between Bombay and the charge point is 82 km, which meant that I had gained 7 km during the drive thanks to the e2o’s always useful regenerative braking technology. This meant that I could save myself 15 minutes of charge time (my e2o charges at an approximate rate of 12 km in 30 minutes). The charge point is in a small district town called Shahapur a few kilometres after Asangaon and is located in Cibo Resort (https://www.tripadvisor.in/Hotel_Review-g4041426-d8738499-Reviews-Cibo_Escape-Shahapur_Maharashtra.html). It is run by a very nice family, the Thakurs. Vinod Thakur owns the resort, and he was kind enough to host us during the rally. There are two cottages at the resort, along with an open area for camping and stargazing and a wooded area for camping under the trees. There is also a lake nearby where water sports can be enjoyed. The charge point is located in an open area with space for numerous cars. Vinod was awake and waiting for me and my brother when we arrived, and he let us plug in and led us to the cottages to rest while the car charged. I had a nice conversation with Vinod, who is an amiable man with knowledge on a lot of topics. We discussed electric vehicles, content writing (my profession), and the benefits of living in the countryside! At about 1:15, I went to bed for a small nap. The cottage was cool and spacious; there was an air conditioner, but we didn’t need it because the temperature was quite pleasant.
Cibo Resort
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Cibo Resort
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At about 3:35 AM, we woke up and started getting ready to leave for Trimbakeshwar. We grabbed our bags and left 10 minutes later, trying our best not to disturb anyone (I had already paid Vinod when he came to greet us). Our next stop was supposed to be Igatpuri, which was another 50 kilometres away. However, the distance between Asangaon and Trimbakeshwar was only 110 km, which was well within the capacity of Little E. I now had a decision to make. I could stop and charge at Igatpuri or simply keep driving directly to Trimbakeshwar. The latter choice may seem obvious in retrospect, but the conundrum was that the route to Trimbakeshwar involved a steady climb uphill, with some seriously steep ghats that were sure to consume a lot of energy. I was guaranteed to get to charge at Igatpuri, but if I passed it and then found myself running short of range, I’d be in a real fix. So, the decision wasn’t an easy one to make. Ultimately, I decided to postpone the decision until I got to Igatpuri. There were some very steep ghats before Igatpuri, and I wanted to see just how much range I had remaining when I reached the town.
We left Cibo at 3:45 AM with 112 km of range. In hindsight, I wish I had stayed the extra 15 minutes that I was so determined to save when I had arrived, because the extra 6 km would have helped me a lot later. The drive to Igatpuri was incredibly quiet. Given the lateness of the hour (or the earliness – take your pick), there were almost no cars on the road besides our friends the lorries. Almost all the roadside diners were closed – although more and more of them started to open as time wore on. The only signs of life were at the petrol pumps, where sleepy attendants could be glimpsed sitting with their heads tilted backwards or lolling to the sides. We climbed upwards almost imperceptibly at first, but when we finally reached the dreaded ghat, it was clear that Little E had its work cut out for it. The ghats were incredibly steep, and the car slowed down almost to a crawl at times, as I feathered the accelerator in an attempt to save maximum energy. We climbed and climbed, sometimes at 40 kmph, sometimes at 30 kmph, and sometimes even at 25 kmph. Twice, we got stuck in a jam consisting almost entirely of lorries when one lorry proved too massive to take a sharp turn and another lorry simply lost the trailer it had been carrying behind it – which was now overturned on the side of the road. All the lorries allowed us to pass through the gaps in between them, which I was grateful for, because getting stuck between two or more lorries on a ghat was honestly one of the most terrifying things I had ever experienced. It was with a tremendous sense of relief that we finally reached the top of the ghat and entered Igatpuri. I stopped by the side of the road so that I could check the remaining range. I should have had 62 km, but I had only 47 km. I had lost 15 km of range on the ghats, and I needed 57 km of range to reach Trimbakeshwar. This hadn’t turned out as bad as I had imagined, and so I decided to skip charging at Igatpuri and drive directly to Trimbakeshwar, confident that I would get back the range I had lost with careful driving.
We left Cibo at 3:45 AM with 112 km of range. In hindsight, I wish I had stayed the extra 15 minutes that I was so determined to save when I had arrived, because the extra 6 km would have helped me a lot later. The drive to Igatpuri was incredibly quiet. Given the lateness of the hour (or the earliness – take your pick), there were almost no cars on the road besides our friends the lorries. Almost all the roadside diners were closed – although more and more of them started to open as time wore on. The only signs of life were at the petrol pumps, where sleepy attendants could be glimpsed sitting with their heads tilted backwards or lolling to the sides. We climbed upwards almost imperceptibly at first, but when we finally reached the dreaded ghat, it was clear that Little E had its work cut out for it. The ghats were incredibly steep, and the car slowed down almost to a crawl at times, as I feathered the accelerator in an attempt to save maximum energy. We climbed and climbed, sometimes at 40 kmph, sometimes at 30 kmph, and sometimes even at 25 kmph. Twice, we got stuck in a jam consisting almost entirely of lorries when one lorry proved too massive to take a sharp turn and another lorry simply lost the trailer it had been carrying behind it – which was now overturned on the side of the road. All the lorries allowed us to pass through the gaps in between them, which I was grateful for, because getting stuck between two or more lorries on a ghat was honestly one of the most terrifying things I had ever experienced. It was with a tremendous sense of relief that we finally reached the top of the ghat and entered Igatpuri. I stopped by the side of the road so that I could check the remaining range. I should have had 62 km, but I had only 47 km. I had lost 15 km of range on the ghats, and I needed 57 km of range to reach Trimbakeshwar. This hadn’t turned out as bad as I had imagined, and so I decided to skip charging at Igatpuri and drive directly to Trimbakeshwar, confident that I would get back the range I had lost with careful driving.
Driving the e2o – or any electric vehicle – efficiently takes some training. Electric cars behave very differently from internal combustion engine cars; they are smoother and quieter to drive, but you can’t put the ‘pedal to the metal’ when driving them because this kills efficiency and drastically reduces range. All electric vehicle drivers go through a learning curve when they first start driving, and so did I. I used to drive very inefficiently at first, speeding up whenever I felt like it – even if there was no real reason to do so – and then braking hard when I needed to slow down. I didn’t know that if you drive an electric vehicle the way it’s meant to be driven, you can engage in ‘one-pedal driving’ and not have to use the brakes very infrequently or not at all. I learnt all of this with time, thanks to the wealth of literature on electric vehicles available online, which I recommend that all prospective buyers compulsorily read before they buy an electric car. Now that I have become more proficient at driving the e2o, I know how to manipulate it so that I get exactly the amount of range I need. The e2o’s dashboard, in addition to the speed and range of the car, indicates how efficiently the car is being driven. One to three bars on this indicator constitute efficient driving. Four to five bars are inefficient, and any more pressure on the accelerator causes the indicator to move into the ‘red zone’ and start flashing, showing that the car is rapidly losing energy. On the other end of the spectrum of the indicator is the ‘E-gen’ zone, which is activated when the driver’s foot is off the accelerator and the car is coasting, allowing the kinetic energy generated by the car’s momentum to be converted and fed back into the battery, thus increasing the car’s range. This is called ‘regeneration’ or ‘regenerative braking’ and is often shortened to ‘regen’.
Trimbakeshwar (hotel room view)
Range Anxiety!
During the journey to Trimbakeshwar, I drove using no more than two bars. I also used regen as much as possible by driving to a top speed of 60 kmph and then immediately taking my foot off the accelerator until the speed dipped down to 40 kmph. We were still climbing steadily uphill, and so opportunities to increase my speed beyond 60 kmph were few. Nevertheless, bit by bit, the difference between the range and the actual distance I had to travel decreased. From an initial difference of 10 km, it went down to 8, then 7, and then 5. We were soon at the outskirts of Nasik, from where we had to take a country road that would take us to Trimbakeshwar. From the start of this road, we had about 25 km to go, while the car’s range was 20 km. Now, while I had managed to reduce the distance between the range and actual distance from 10 km to 5 km without much trouble, the final 5 km were proving to be a real challenge. The country road to Trimbakeshwar was filled with serious climbs but not enough downward slopes. Each time I managed to reduce the distance by a kilometre, an uphill climb would negate the achievement. I was becoming seriously anxious. The famous ‘range anxiety’ was real! It was already 6 AM at this point, and because were driving so slowly, we had little hope of reaching before 7 AM. Of course, I wasn’t thinking about this at the time; I was totally focused on getting to the destination no matter what. When there were 15 km to go, we still had only 10 km, and the car beeped to indicate that it was entering ‘low power mode’. My brother was even more anxious than me – if that was possible – and was berating me for not charging at Igatpuri. My own confidence in making it to Trimbakeshwar was wavering, and I cursed myself for not staying those extra 15 minutes at Cibo and charging to a full 120 km. All of this anxiety could have been avoided if I had just had a little more patience and a little less arrogance. With 9 km to go and only 5 km range, I was becoming seriously worried, and I even started looking for a place to charge – a villagers’ house, a temple, anything. Finally, when we had about 8 km to go and about 4 km range, the country road ended and the highway re-appeared. We still had an upward climb, but the twists and turns and ups and downs of that godforsaken country road were now over, and I prayed to the heavens that we would make it to Trimbakeshwar with careful driving. I gave up driving on two bars and started driving on one bar instead. The moment I hit 30 kmph, I left the accelerator and let the speed go all the way down to 10 kmph. Slowly, the difference between the actual distance and range came down from 8 to 5 kmph, to 6 to 4 kmph, and finally to 3 to 3 kmph. Then, with 2 km still remaining to go and my brave Little E on its last legs, my brother, who had been switching between keeping one eye on the road and the other on the dashboard display, shouted that he could see our hotel. And so, with a sigh of immense relief, I pulled into the hotel’s parking lot at 7 AM, with 2 km range remaining.
During the journey to Trimbakeshwar, I drove using no more than two bars. I also used regen as much as possible by driving to a top speed of 60 kmph and then immediately taking my foot off the accelerator until the speed dipped down to 40 kmph. We were still climbing steadily uphill, and so opportunities to increase my speed beyond 60 kmph were few. Nevertheless, bit by bit, the difference between the range and the actual distance I had to travel decreased. From an initial difference of 10 km, it went down to 8, then 7, and then 5. We were soon at the outskirts of Nasik, from where we had to take a country road that would take us to Trimbakeshwar. From the start of this road, we had about 25 km to go, while the car’s range was 20 km. Now, while I had managed to reduce the distance between the range and actual distance from 10 km to 5 km without much trouble, the final 5 km were proving to be a real challenge. The country road to Trimbakeshwar was filled with serious climbs but not enough downward slopes. Each time I managed to reduce the distance by a kilometre, an uphill climb would negate the achievement. I was becoming seriously anxious. The famous ‘range anxiety’ was real! It was already 6 AM at this point, and because were driving so slowly, we had little hope of reaching before 7 AM. Of course, I wasn’t thinking about this at the time; I was totally focused on getting to the destination no matter what. When there were 15 km to go, we still had only 10 km, and the car beeped to indicate that it was entering ‘low power mode’. My brother was even more anxious than me – if that was possible – and was berating me for not charging at Igatpuri. My own confidence in making it to Trimbakeshwar was wavering, and I cursed myself for not staying those extra 15 minutes at Cibo and charging to a full 120 km. All of this anxiety could have been avoided if I had just had a little more patience and a little less arrogance. With 9 km to go and only 5 km range, I was becoming seriously worried, and I even started looking for a place to charge – a villagers’ house, a temple, anything. Finally, when we had about 8 km to go and about 4 km range, the country road ended and the highway re-appeared. We still had an upward climb, but the twists and turns and ups and downs of that godforsaken country road were now over, and I prayed to the heavens that we would make it to Trimbakeshwar with careful driving. I gave up driving on two bars and started driving on one bar instead. The moment I hit 30 kmph, I left the accelerator and let the speed go all the way down to 10 kmph. Slowly, the difference between the actual distance and range came down from 8 to 5 kmph, to 6 to 4 kmph, and finally to 3 to 3 kmph. Then, with 2 km still remaining to go and my brave Little E on its last legs, my brother, who had been switching between keeping one eye on the road and the other on the dashboard display, shouted that he could see our hotel. And so, with a sigh of immense relief, I pulled into the hotel’s parking lot at 7 AM, with 2 km range remaining.
My driver, who had driven my parents to Trimbakeshwar, was waiting for us, and he pointed out a plug point that we could use to charge the car. I was glad the hotel had managed to arrange for this socket, because when I had called my parents the day before to tell them to have a socket for my car ready, they had seemed blasé about the whole thing. I should also mention here that I have had a long extension cord made for out-of-town journeys. The cord is 30 m long and can come in very hand in many situations. I had the cord in my car, and I took it out and extended it all the way from the socket in the hotel lobby to the parking lot outside. I made it with plenty of cord to spare, and I quickly plugged in the car. In normal conditions, it’s preferable to let the e2o to cool down after a long journey before charging it, but because the car was almost out of range at this point, I decided to charge up before the batteries discharged further and the car shut down completely to avoid damaging the batteries. With much relief, I watched as the dashboard display lit up with the word ‘Charging’. I then rushed to the hotel room to wash up and head to the temple, where my parents were waiting.
After spending a couple of hours in the temple and the market, we headed back to the hotel for a quick siesta before setting out again. The journey back was not as eventful as the journey to Trimbakeshwar, a fact I was thankful for because I was in no condition to handle more excitement.
After spending a couple of hours in the temple and the market, we headed back to the hotel for a quick siesta before setting out again. The journey back was not as eventful as the journey to Trimbakeshwar, a fact I was thankful for because I was in no condition to handle more excitement.
At a pooja
Winding country roads
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Heading back to Bombay
Goodbye Trimbakeshar!
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Back to Bombay
One of the advantages of the return journey was that I was going back down to sea level, which meant I didn’t have to worry about range or press down hard on the accelerator in order to speed up. Another advantage was that I could once again eliminate Igatpuri as a destination because, after a full charge at Trimbakeshwar, I had enough range to make it to Asangaon. A third advantage was that the return journey would not take as long as the journey to Trimbakeshwar because the steep ghats that had been the bane of my existence during that harrowing journey were suddenly my best friends and gave me back so much range – thanks to regen – that instead of reaching Asangaon with 10 km range (the distance from Trimbakeshwar to Asangaon being 110 km), I reached there with 40 km! Yes, I had gained 30 km range on the ghats for free! Regen is indeed a miraculous piece of technology.
I had left Trimbakeshwar at 4 PM with 120 km range. I reached Cibo in Asangaon at 6 PM with 40 km range. I needed about two hours of charging, which would give me 88 km range, to get to Bombay, which was 80 km away. I was travelling alone this time because my brother had decided to go back with my parents in our Alto. I plugged in the car again at Cibo and spent the time finishing some office work on my laptop. At 8 PM, with 88 km range, I left Cibo and started my journey back to Bombay, stopping only once for 20 minutes to grab some takeaway from a highway diner. I reached home at last at 10 PM with 15 km range and let the car cool down for an hour before I plugged it in again and hit the sack. Finally, the long and tiring, and yet eventful and fulfilling, journey was over.
The e2o is a wonderful machine, and it teaches me many new things every day. This journey taught me not to be arrogant about my ability to reach somewhere when I’m low on range and to always stop at a charge point whenever possible, and especially when heading into unknown territory. If I undertake this journey again, I’ll be sure to charge up fully at Cibo and get a quick 15-minute top-up at Igatpuri before moving on to Nasik, and I recommend the same to everyone else. Anyway, my trip has proven that Bombay to Nasik/Trimbakeshwar is easily possible in the e2o, and if there’s anyone out there who wants to do the trip but is hesitant, I hope this travelogue has helped. Happy driving!
END
One of the advantages of the return journey was that I was going back down to sea level, which meant I didn’t have to worry about range or press down hard on the accelerator in order to speed up. Another advantage was that I could once again eliminate Igatpuri as a destination because, after a full charge at Trimbakeshwar, I had enough range to make it to Asangaon. A third advantage was that the return journey would not take as long as the journey to Trimbakeshwar because the steep ghats that had been the bane of my existence during that harrowing journey were suddenly my best friends and gave me back so much range – thanks to regen – that instead of reaching Asangaon with 10 km range (the distance from Trimbakeshwar to Asangaon being 110 km), I reached there with 40 km! Yes, I had gained 30 km range on the ghats for free! Regen is indeed a miraculous piece of technology.
I had left Trimbakeshwar at 4 PM with 120 km range. I reached Cibo in Asangaon at 6 PM with 40 km range. I needed about two hours of charging, which would give me 88 km range, to get to Bombay, which was 80 km away. I was travelling alone this time because my brother had decided to go back with my parents in our Alto. I plugged in the car again at Cibo and spent the time finishing some office work on my laptop. At 8 PM, with 88 km range, I left Cibo and started my journey back to Bombay, stopping only once for 20 minutes to grab some takeaway from a highway diner. I reached home at last at 10 PM with 15 km range and let the car cool down for an hour before I plugged it in again and hit the sack. Finally, the long and tiring, and yet eventful and fulfilling, journey was over.
The e2o is a wonderful machine, and it teaches me many new things every day. This journey taught me not to be arrogant about my ability to reach somewhere when I’m low on range and to always stop at a charge point whenever possible, and especially when heading into unknown territory. If I undertake this journey again, I’ll be sure to charge up fully at Cibo and get a quick 15-minute top-up at Igatpuri before moving on to Nasik, and I recommend the same to everyone else. Anyway, my trip has proven that Bombay to Nasik/Trimbakeshwar is easily possible in the e2o, and if there’s anyone out there who wants to do the trip but is hesitant, I hope this travelogue has helped. Happy driving!
END
I often get frustrated when people say that electric cars, with their limited range, are not suitable for big-city driving beyond driving to the nearby mall to do one's shopping. If electric cars are to be adopted by the common man, this perception needs to change. This is why I undertook a journey in which I drove around my city, Bombay, in a giant circle from North Bombay to South Bombay and back again. I travelled a distance of 110 km, but I still had enough range to make it home safely. After reaching home, I simply plugged in again so that my car would be ready whenever I wanted to use it next. In a petrol or diesel car, this journey would have cost 300 to 500 rupees. In my electric car, it cost 50 rupees!
Do you still think an electric car is unsuitable for city driving?
Do you still think an electric car is unsuitable for city driving?
North Bombay to South Bombay and Back in an Electric Car
Udvada is renowned for the Zoroastrian Atash Bahram fire temple
Okay, what happens when one elects to go ‘off the grid’ and into areas unknown, areas where there are no charging facilities and where people may never even have heard of an electric car?
I’ve always wanted to search for the answer to this question, and when I got the chance to do so on my recent trip to Udvada, I jumped at the opportunity.
Udvada is a small town at the southernmost border of Gujarat, and it almost hugs the border of Maharashtra. It’s a Parsi town, most famous for its Atash Behram fire temple. Parsis from Bombay are known to make regular trips to Udvada to worship at the fire temple. Non-Parsis also like to visit Udvada, because its quiet, soothing atmosphere, genial residents, and (most importantly for a foodie like me!) delectable Parsi cuisine. I definitely recommend a trip to anyone who hasn’t been there yet. It’s the perfect weekend getaway. However, it’s almost 200 km away from Bombay, so e2o drivers have their work cut out for them! Where there is a will, there is a way – so the famous saying goes. I certainly had the will, but the way was not going to be an easy one.
I had no precise plans for what I intended to do. I live in Kandivali, and the distance from Kandivali to Udvada is 165 km. The only ‘official’ charging point on the way (according to the ReCharge India app) is in Vasai at Nicolas Compound, a Mahindra-run service centre. (To reach Nicolas Compound, take Sativali Road [you can find it on your GPS] and keep driving onward until you spot a huge sign saying ‘Nicolas Compound’ on the right-hand side of the road.) I charged up Little E fully overnight. After a shower and a fortifying cup of tea, I set off from Kandivali with a friend at 7:30 AM on Sunday, 29 May 2016. The distance from Kandivali to Vasai is about 35 km, and so I knew that I would need to charge the car for an hour and a half upon reaching Vasai. The drive was largely uneventful, considering the day and the early hour. We reached Vasai at 8:30 AM with 80 KM range left. I expected to immediately start charging the car upon arrival, but that was not to be. The watchman at Nicolas Compound refused to let me in, saying he didn’t have the authority. After arguing with him for a while, we headed back to the Mahindra showroom on the same road. The watchman at this showroom informed me that he didn’t have the necessary authority either, but an employee or two was likely to show up soon if I cared to wait (as though I had a choice!).
My friend and I decided to get some breakfast while we waited. We went to a nearby restaurant where we had masala dosa, vada, and tea. As expected, Little E got its share of stares, and I spent about five minutes answering another restaurant patron’s questions about the car. (I’ve become so used to these questions, I could answer them in my sleep by now!) I couldn’t help but remarking to my friend how different Vasai was from the rest of Bombay’s suburbs. Coming here was almost akin to entering a small town or large village. Funnily enough, Kandivali used to be like that twenty years ago when my family moved there, but it’s a full-fledged city suburb now. I wonder if Vasai will meet the same fate twenty years from now.
By the time we were done with breakfast, it was 9:30 AM. We had already lost an hour, and I was not looking forward to wasting more time. As we headed back to the showroom, I prayed that someone remotely in charge was at work by now. Thankfully, a young employee had showed up, and he was able to get me in to the service centre after pulling a few strings. (Before that, we tried to see if we could charge up at the gallery itself, but the gallery has no 15 amp sockets.) By this time, a few employees had shown up at the centre as well, and they crowded around the car to get a good look. I opened the car doors for them so that they could get a good look at the inside. They informed me that they never got this car for servicing, and hardly anyone showed up looking for a charge, and so for many of them, this was their first glimpse of the e2o. While the car charged, my friend and I sat in the waiting room. One of the lads brought us some more tea, which my friend refused but which I quickly gulped down, because I can never have enough tea! I decided to take a short nap, because I had two hours of driving ahead of me, and I wanted to be absolutely fresh. (My friend later told me that she marvelled at my ability to fall asleep on cue like that, an ability that is beyond her. I found it amusing that she thought that this was some kind of superpower I possessed, but the plain truth is that my work tends to keep me up until odd hours of the night, and so out of necessity, I have cultivated this ability, which has proved useful on more than one occasion.) I woke up about an hour later to find the car fully charged. I heaved a sigh of relief, because Vasai is known for its frequent power cuts, and the last time I was at this same centre for a charge, I was only able to get half an hour’s worth of charging done before the power went out.
I thanked everyone at the centre who had helped me, and my friend and I set out on the long drive to our next destination, Vapi, at about 11:30 AM. The outskirts of Vapi are about 115 km away from Vasai while the main city is another 15 km away. So, to have any hope of reaching the former in an e2o, one absolutely must ensure that the car has 120 km range in it. I left the AC and the infotainment system switched off to conserve maximum energy. (For the record, I think you can still reach Vapi with the AC on or the infotainment system on, but I wouldn’t recommend having them both on at once.) I was also counting on Regen to gain back a few km on the way. The drive was long but never wearying, because the e2o, as usual, is a lot of fun to drive. The clutch-less, single-speed transmission system is an absolute joy to experience, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the Bugattis and Ferraris in the world (sorry gearheads!). We quickly passed Manor, Kasa, and Talasari, and before we knew it, Vapi was coming into view. Moreover, instead of reaching Vapi with 5 km range left, we reached there with an unprecedented 18 km, thanks to the almost magical power of Regen!
I’ve always wanted to search for the answer to this question, and when I got the chance to do so on my recent trip to Udvada, I jumped at the opportunity.
Udvada is a small town at the southernmost border of Gujarat, and it almost hugs the border of Maharashtra. It’s a Parsi town, most famous for its Atash Behram fire temple. Parsis from Bombay are known to make regular trips to Udvada to worship at the fire temple. Non-Parsis also like to visit Udvada, because its quiet, soothing atmosphere, genial residents, and (most importantly for a foodie like me!) delectable Parsi cuisine. I definitely recommend a trip to anyone who hasn’t been there yet. It’s the perfect weekend getaway. However, it’s almost 200 km away from Bombay, so e2o drivers have their work cut out for them! Where there is a will, there is a way – so the famous saying goes. I certainly had the will, but the way was not going to be an easy one.
I had no precise plans for what I intended to do. I live in Kandivali, and the distance from Kandivali to Udvada is 165 km. The only ‘official’ charging point on the way (according to the ReCharge India app) is in Vasai at Nicolas Compound, a Mahindra-run service centre. (To reach Nicolas Compound, take Sativali Road [you can find it on your GPS] and keep driving onward until you spot a huge sign saying ‘Nicolas Compound’ on the right-hand side of the road.) I charged up Little E fully overnight. After a shower and a fortifying cup of tea, I set off from Kandivali with a friend at 7:30 AM on Sunday, 29 May 2016. The distance from Kandivali to Vasai is about 35 km, and so I knew that I would need to charge the car for an hour and a half upon reaching Vasai. The drive was largely uneventful, considering the day and the early hour. We reached Vasai at 8:30 AM with 80 KM range left. I expected to immediately start charging the car upon arrival, but that was not to be. The watchman at Nicolas Compound refused to let me in, saying he didn’t have the authority. After arguing with him for a while, we headed back to the Mahindra showroom on the same road. The watchman at this showroom informed me that he didn’t have the necessary authority either, but an employee or two was likely to show up soon if I cared to wait (as though I had a choice!).
My friend and I decided to get some breakfast while we waited. We went to a nearby restaurant where we had masala dosa, vada, and tea. As expected, Little E got its share of stares, and I spent about five minutes answering another restaurant patron’s questions about the car. (I’ve become so used to these questions, I could answer them in my sleep by now!) I couldn’t help but remarking to my friend how different Vasai was from the rest of Bombay’s suburbs. Coming here was almost akin to entering a small town or large village. Funnily enough, Kandivali used to be like that twenty years ago when my family moved there, but it’s a full-fledged city suburb now. I wonder if Vasai will meet the same fate twenty years from now.
By the time we were done with breakfast, it was 9:30 AM. We had already lost an hour, and I was not looking forward to wasting more time. As we headed back to the showroom, I prayed that someone remotely in charge was at work by now. Thankfully, a young employee had showed up, and he was able to get me in to the service centre after pulling a few strings. (Before that, we tried to see if we could charge up at the gallery itself, but the gallery has no 15 amp sockets.) By this time, a few employees had shown up at the centre as well, and they crowded around the car to get a good look. I opened the car doors for them so that they could get a good look at the inside. They informed me that they never got this car for servicing, and hardly anyone showed up looking for a charge, and so for many of them, this was their first glimpse of the e2o. While the car charged, my friend and I sat in the waiting room. One of the lads brought us some more tea, which my friend refused but which I quickly gulped down, because I can never have enough tea! I decided to take a short nap, because I had two hours of driving ahead of me, and I wanted to be absolutely fresh. (My friend later told me that she marvelled at my ability to fall asleep on cue like that, an ability that is beyond her. I found it amusing that she thought that this was some kind of superpower I possessed, but the plain truth is that my work tends to keep me up until odd hours of the night, and so out of necessity, I have cultivated this ability, which has proved useful on more than one occasion.) I woke up about an hour later to find the car fully charged. I heaved a sigh of relief, because Vasai is known for its frequent power cuts, and the last time I was at this same centre for a charge, I was only able to get half an hour’s worth of charging done before the power went out.
I thanked everyone at the centre who had helped me, and my friend and I set out on the long drive to our next destination, Vapi, at about 11:30 AM. The outskirts of Vapi are about 115 km away from Vasai while the main city is another 15 km away. So, to have any hope of reaching the former in an e2o, one absolutely must ensure that the car has 120 km range in it. I left the AC and the infotainment system switched off to conserve maximum energy. (For the record, I think you can still reach Vapi with the AC on or the infotainment system on, but I wouldn’t recommend having them both on at once.) I was also counting on Regen to gain back a few km on the way. The drive was long but never wearying, because the e2o, as usual, is a lot of fun to drive. The clutch-less, single-speed transmission system is an absolute joy to experience, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the Bugattis and Ferraris in the world (sorry gearheads!). We quickly passed Manor, Kasa, and Talasari, and before we knew it, Vapi was coming into view. Moreover, instead of reaching Vapi with 5 km range left, we reached there with an unprecedented 18 km, thanks to the almost magical power of Regen!
As this was going to be a two-day trip, I had booked rooms at a hotel in Vapi called Hotel Legend Inn. The hotel is located in Sarigam. We reached the hotel at about 2:30 PM. My first priority should have been to charge the car, but my friend and I were too tired, sweaty, and hungry to worry about that for the moment. We freshened up and had some lunch. Once we had suitable recovered, we set off to find a charging point. Now, for anyone who intends to follow in my footsteps, I wouldn’t recommend staying at Hotel Legend Inn unless there is no other option, because the hotel has no charging infrastructure. The only 15 amp sockets to be found are in the kitchen and the rooms. Both options are useless, as the kitchen has no earthing (without which the e2o won’t charge), and the rooms are located too high up to extend a line from (unless you happen to have a really long extension cord). Instead, I recommend staying at the Neem Tree Hotel, which is located right opposite Hotel Legend Inn. They have a 15 amp socket right outside the hotel’s restaurant that guests are free to use. We weren’t guests, but we did patronise the restaurant, which got me into the receptionist’s good books and allowed me to plug in the car there. Before that, I was able to charge the car at another restaurant nearby whose owner is also in charge of Hotel Legend Inn. (Regrettably, I forgot to note down the name of the restaurant. e2o drivers can inquire at the hotel.) The restaurant owner said I could charge the car only during the restaurant’s ‘off’ hours (3 to 6 PM and 11 PM onwards), because one of his coolers was plugged into the socket I was using the rest of the time.
My friend and I had planned to go to Daman, which is about 20 km away from Vapi, for dinner. I could only charge the car up to about 45 km before the restaurant owner informed me that the evening rush was due to begin soon. I unplugged the car, and my friend and I set off for Daman. As this was a Sunday, Daman was packed to the gills with tourists and other holidaymakers. The restaurant we stopped at for dinner had hardly an inch of breathing room outside. Fortunately, we were able to get a table in the air-conditioned inner restaurant. We ordered pomfret fish curry (Daman is famous for its seafood) and roti, which took ages to arrive because of the sheer number of patrons. After dinner, my friend and I headed back to the hotel. This proved to be a challenge, because we had 21 km to go and 20 km range, not counting Revive. I drove extremely slowly, trying to conserve as much battery life as possible. Fortunately, we reached the hotel with incident. Additionally, the car had 4 km range still left, thanks again to the magic of Regen. (I really cannot overstate what a pragmatic and useful invention regenerative braking is! Why don’t normal cars have something similar?) I plugged in the car outside Hotel Neem Tree’s Restaurant and prepared for a good night’s sleep in anticipation of the drive to Udvada next morning.
My friend and I had planned to go to Daman, which is about 20 km away from Vapi, for dinner. I could only charge the car up to about 45 km before the restaurant owner informed me that the evening rush was due to begin soon. I unplugged the car, and my friend and I set off for Daman. As this was a Sunday, Daman was packed to the gills with tourists and other holidaymakers. The restaurant we stopped at for dinner had hardly an inch of breathing room outside. Fortunately, we were able to get a table in the air-conditioned inner restaurant. We ordered pomfret fish curry (Daman is famous for its seafood) and roti, which took ages to arrive because of the sheer number of patrons. After dinner, my friend and I headed back to the hotel. This proved to be a challenge, because we had 21 km to go and 20 km range, not counting Revive. I drove extremely slowly, trying to conserve as much battery life as possible. Fortunately, we reached the hotel with incident. Additionally, the car had 4 km range still left, thanks again to the magic of Regen. (I really cannot overstate what a pragmatic and useful invention regenerative braking is! Why don’t normal cars have something similar?) I plugged in the car outside Hotel Neem Tree’s Restaurant and prepared for a good night’s sleep in anticipation of the drive to Udvada next morning.
Unfortunately, our share of problems was far from over. It turned out that my poor extension cord had been unable to handle the tremendous amounts of power Little E needed for charging and, after charging to a bare 20%, had conked out. I made a mental note to buy a sturdier cord after reaching home, but I needed to solve our current problem. The car had about 25 km of range, but at least 20 km more was needed to get to Udvada. The friendly watchman at Neem Tree Hotel directed us to a local shop, whose 15 amp socket he was able to convince the owner to let us use. I charged the car for an hour at the shop. I gave the watchman some money in gratitude for helping us out and for watching over the car at night, and I also offered the shop owner some money. However, apparently insulted at the ‘pittance’ I was offering, he refused the money and told me and my friend to clear out. Although the confrontation left a bad taste in my mouth, I’m happy to say that this was our sole unpleasant experience during the entire journey. We left Vapi at around 10:30 AM, which was far later than I would have liked. A large part of the morning had been wasted in looking for a charge point, and I wanted to get to Udvada as soon as possible.
At Udvada
The drive to Udvada was mercifully short. It didn’t take longer than an hour to get there, and as I drove, I was able to take in the sights and sounds of the main city of Vapi. As we approached Udvada, the buildings began to thin out, and small townhouses began to emerge. Udvada can be divided into two parts: the main town, which is like any other small town; and the village, which is Udvada’s main attraction. At Udvada, we planned to charge the car at the Globe Hotel. Globe is Udvada’s oldest hotel. It was started in 1924 with only four rooms, but it now has about 25 rooms and all the modern amenities one would expect from such a place.
The hotel is run by a Parsi family. The Parsi community in India has been heavily stereotyped as eccentric thanks to Hindi films. However, anyone who has interacted with Parsis knows that they are in fact the most polite, sophisticated, and kind-hearted souls around. Upon arriving at the hotel, I quickly explained my situation to the management. They were incredibly accommodating, and the idea of an electric car in Udvada and at their hotel tickled them to no end. I was allowed to charge the car through a plug point in the kitchen. Hotel patrons and the staff popped by to take a look at the car.
Mr Percy, who was running the desk, told me that he had seen a Reva in Daman, but he had never heard of the e2o. I happily gave him details about the car and answered all his questions. I also suggested setting up a charging point at the hotel. By then, it was lunchtime, and I was ready to savour some authentic Parsi food. Words cannot do justice to the simple and yet utterly delicious food this community is known for, and so I’ve elected to provide some pictures instead:
The drive to Udvada was mercifully short. It didn’t take longer than an hour to get there, and as I drove, I was able to take in the sights and sounds of the main city of Vapi. As we approached Udvada, the buildings began to thin out, and small townhouses began to emerge. Udvada can be divided into two parts: the main town, which is like any other small town; and the village, which is Udvada’s main attraction. At Udvada, we planned to charge the car at the Globe Hotel. Globe is Udvada’s oldest hotel. It was started in 1924 with only four rooms, but it now has about 25 rooms and all the modern amenities one would expect from such a place.
The hotel is run by a Parsi family. The Parsi community in India has been heavily stereotyped as eccentric thanks to Hindi films. However, anyone who has interacted with Parsis knows that they are in fact the most polite, sophisticated, and kind-hearted souls around. Upon arriving at the hotel, I quickly explained my situation to the management. They were incredibly accommodating, and the idea of an electric car in Udvada and at their hotel tickled them to no end. I was allowed to charge the car through a plug point in the kitchen. Hotel patrons and the staff popped by to take a look at the car.
Mr Percy, who was running the desk, told me that he had seen a Reva in Daman, but he had never heard of the e2o. I happily gave him details about the car and answered all his questions. I also suggested setting up a charging point at the hotel. By then, it was lunchtime, and I was ready to savour some authentic Parsi food. Words cannot do justice to the simple and yet utterly delicious food this community is known for, and so I’ve elected to provide some pictures instead:
While the car charged, my friend and I took in the local sights. As I mentioned before, Udvada is a small town, and the village part of it is even more so. There is a small beach (with black sand!), the famous fire temple of course, and a small museum. Udvada is not really a place for enthusiastic tourists. It’s for those who want to soak in the small-town vibe; enjoy the clean, pleasant atmosphere; and of course, eat lots and lots of delicious Parsi food! We spent our time walking around the village and taking in the local sights. At one point, I spotted a mother hen with her chicks and took it into my head to adopt one of the chicks as a pet. One would think that chicks are not very fast, given their tiny size and lack of wings, but one could not be more wrong, as I learned at the cost of my humiliation (and my friend’s endless amusement!). After five minutes of futile chasing, I was appropriately chastened and returned to my proper senses.
By the time my friend and I were done touring and were adequately rested and refreshed, it was time to set out again. We left at around 5:30 after a spot of tea. The car had been fully charged. Before leaving, I profusely thanked Mr Percy and promised to get back to him with instructions for setting up a charging point at the hotel. (I had to pay some money for using the charging point, but that was really the least I could do to repay Mr Percy, his brother’s, and the hotel staff’s kindness.) We drove to the outskirts of Vapi, where we again needed to look for a charging point before our long trip back to Bombay. I inquired again at the restaurant where I had charged my car the previous day, but by now it was past 6 PM, and the owner apologetically said that he could not help us at the cost of his business. The shop we had charged at in the morning was obviously out of the question, but after some inquiries, we came across a car service center, where I explained my dilemma. The good people at the center allowed me use one of their sockets in exchange for 100 rupees. We paid up and charged the car to full. This took a little more than an hour, and by the time we set out, it was 8:30 PM.
Driving on the highway at night was not a prospect I enjoyed and certainly not one that I had planned for. If all had gone smoothly, Little E would have charged overnight at Neem Tree Hotel in Vapi, and I would have been in a position to leave Udvada early in the afternoon after a quick two-hour charge. However, this was not to be, and at any rate, I had to play with the hand I had been dealt rather than the hand I wished I had been dealt. We set off, and this time, I drove as quickly as was possible while navigating huge lorries and unlit portions of the highway.
We finally reached Vasai at 10:30 PM. Obviously, using the service center's charging point at this time was out of the question. On the way to Vasai, my friend and I had discussed our options. We ultimately decided to take an Ola Cab from Vasai to Bombay. Little E had reached Vapi the previous day with 18 km thanks to Regen, but it reached Vasai with only about 10 km, presumably because the headlights cost the batteries quite a bit of power. I parked Little E outside the Mahindra showroom and paid the watchman some money to watch over it. This strategy was recommended by the Ola Cab driver, another friendly soul who was willing to offer help after learning of our dilemma. After parking the e2o, we set off for Bombay. The driver asked more questions about the e2o, which I sleepily answered. Finally, we reached Kandivali at 12 AM, thus ending a trip that had started at 7:30 AM the previous morning. I reached home and promptly went to bed, intending to leave very early in the morning to retrieve the e2o. I retrieved it at about 8 AM the next morning. The car was fine, despite my fears that troublemakers would try to break into it at night. I had to wait an hour for the service centre to open and charge the car, but fortunately, things went off smoothly from there. I charged the car for an hour and fifteen minutes, which left me with 40 km. I reached home with about 10 km left and went straight back to bed, thankful that the journey was at last over!
Driving on the highway at night was not a prospect I enjoyed and certainly not one that I had planned for. If all had gone smoothly, Little E would have charged overnight at Neem Tree Hotel in Vapi, and I would have been in a position to leave Udvada early in the afternoon after a quick two-hour charge. However, this was not to be, and at any rate, I had to play with the hand I had been dealt rather than the hand I wished I had been dealt. We set off, and this time, I drove as quickly as was possible while navigating huge lorries and unlit portions of the highway.
We finally reached Vasai at 10:30 PM. Obviously, using the service center's charging point at this time was out of the question. On the way to Vasai, my friend and I had discussed our options. We ultimately decided to take an Ola Cab from Vasai to Bombay. Little E had reached Vapi the previous day with 18 km thanks to Regen, but it reached Vasai with only about 10 km, presumably because the headlights cost the batteries quite a bit of power. I parked Little E outside the Mahindra showroom and paid the watchman some money to watch over it. This strategy was recommended by the Ola Cab driver, another friendly soul who was willing to offer help after learning of our dilemma. After parking the e2o, we set off for Bombay. The driver asked more questions about the e2o, which I sleepily answered. Finally, we reached Kandivali at 12 AM, thus ending a trip that had started at 7:30 AM the previous morning. I reached home and promptly went to bed, intending to leave very early in the morning to retrieve the e2o. I retrieved it at about 8 AM the next morning. The car was fine, despite my fears that troublemakers would try to break into it at night. I had to wait an hour for the service centre to open and charge the car, but fortunately, things went off smoothly from there. I charged the car for an hour and fifteen minutes, which left me with 40 km. I reached home with about 10 km left and went straight back to bed, thankful that the journey was at last over!
Final Thoughts
And now, some final thoughts. The reader would be well within his or her right to ask what the point of this entire experiment was. Wouldn’t it have been easier to take a petrol or diesel car for the journey instead? Imagine the time it would have saved! The answer to the question is yes. However, as often learns in life, the easy way isn’t necessarily the best way. Yes, I could have taken a petrol or diesel car. That would have saved me time, but what would I have lost in the process? First, I would have lost my peace of mind, because all I would be thinking of on the journey would be the pollution I was causing. Sanctimonious as it sounds, I’m not one of those people who can encase themselves within the air-conditioned confines of their car and forget the poison it is leaking into the atmosphere with every litre of petrol it consumes. Even in my e2o, I am constantly aware of how much coal is being burned to generate the electricity the car uses, even though I know that I am not causing any local pollution and that coal plants treat burnt coal to reduce the harmful gases it releases into the atmosphere and electric vehicles cut Global warming emissions by 50%.
This assuming that all the electricity comes from coal. This is not true, quite a bit comes from other sources with a lighter or zero carbon footprint. And even if you take the process of car manufacture but subtract the electricity used in refining oil and making petrol cars, electric vehicles will win out. Moreover, I remain optimistic about the day India will move on from dirty coal to clean alternatives like solar energy, wind power, and hydropower.
Second, I would have lost my sense of adventure. I don’t deny that the journey was a difficult one. We came close to losing hope many times, but always something or someone managed to come through. It’s an incontrovertible fact that big-city life has made us cynical. How many times do we extend a hand to help someone in need unless there is some profit in it for us as well? How many times do we elect to trust a stranger? The defensive mechanisms we use in our daily lives are all a part of the survival instinct we have developed for thriving in cities. This instinct is what helps us to get by in the city, but it has also made us suspicious, cynical people. Small-town people and villagers lack these instincts, simply because they don’t need them. Everyone knows everyone else in a village, and in a small town, people tend to be more open, more friendly, more curious, and more trusting than people in cities. I had the opportunity to meet many such people on my journey, from the lads at the Vasai service center through the friendly restaurant owner in Vapi to the cheerful owners of the Globe in Udvada. Without Little E, I doubt I’d have had a fraction of the interactions I had on my journey, and my experience would have been the poorer for it. The trip was exhausting and time consuming, but it was also fun and enlightening, and I for one would certainly do it again! Additionally, if I can manage to convince the good people at the Globe to set up a charging point, this would be not only my greatest personal achievement on this trip but also a saving grace for other e2o owners who would like to venture beyond Vasai.
I would like to end with a shout-out to my friend, without whom this journey may not have been possible. I’m not really a people person, and it was largely thanks to my friend that we were able to convince so many people to help us out. She has that rare quality – the ability to inspire trust and goodwill in others with a smile and a kind word – that other people possess in small quantities and that I do not possess at all. If and when she reads this, I want her to know that I’m grateful to her for putting up with my idiosyncrasies and stubbornness and that I hope we can take more such trips together.
Thanks for reading, and do remember to keep plugging in!
This assuming that all the electricity comes from coal. This is not true, quite a bit comes from other sources with a lighter or zero carbon footprint. And even if you take the process of car manufacture but subtract the electricity used in refining oil and making petrol cars, electric vehicles will win out. Moreover, I remain optimistic about the day India will move on from dirty coal to clean alternatives like solar energy, wind power, and hydropower.
Second, I would have lost my sense of adventure. I don’t deny that the journey was a difficult one. We came close to losing hope many times, but always something or someone managed to come through. It’s an incontrovertible fact that big-city life has made us cynical. How many times do we extend a hand to help someone in need unless there is some profit in it for us as well? How many times do we elect to trust a stranger? The defensive mechanisms we use in our daily lives are all a part of the survival instinct we have developed for thriving in cities. This instinct is what helps us to get by in the city, but it has also made us suspicious, cynical people. Small-town people and villagers lack these instincts, simply because they don’t need them. Everyone knows everyone else in a village, and in a small town, people tend to be more open, more friendly, more curious, and more trusting than people in cities. I had the opportunity to meet many such people on my journey, from the lads at the Vasai service center through the friendly restaurant owner in Vapi to the cheerful owners of the Globe in Udvada. Without Little E, I doubt I’d have had a fraction of the interactions I had on my journey, and my experience would have been the poorer for it. The trip was exhausting and time consuming, but it was also fun and enlightening, and I for one would certainly do it again! Additionally, if I can manage to convince the good people at the Globe to set up a charging point, this would be not only my greatest personal achievement on this trip but also a saving grace for other e2o owners who would like to venture beyond Vasai.
I would like to end with a shout-out to my friend, without whom this journey may not have been possible. I’m not really a people person, and it was largely thanks to my friend that we were able to convince so many people to help us out. She has that rare quality – the ability to inspire trust and goodwill in others with a smile and a kind word – that other people possess in small quantities and that I do not possess at all. If and when she reads this, I want her to know that I’m grateful to her for putting up with my idiosyncrasies and stubbornness and that I hope we can take more such trips together.
Thanks for reading, and do remember to keep plugging in!