EV – 006 – Your mileage may vary…

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.
Zaphod Beeblebrox. … Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Is it really six months since I bought my EV (Electric Vehicle)? Six Months! I have double checked my diary and yes, give or take a few days, it is. I think the first thing to point out I used to drive a 14 year old diesel engine car. This means many of the improvements in the driving experience is just the car maker improving their product. It has nothing to do with the energy used being electrical rather than chemical.

The second proviso is that have my own car charger and I am able to park my car off the road. This means that I am able to gain access cheaper electricity than using public charging points. Of course this also means that I can only charge at c 7 kWh compared to the 100+ kWh at the local chargers.

Cost of Living

The one thing that is VERY noticeable and absolutely down to the car being an EV is the cost of running the car. When I decided to take the plunge and replace my old car for the EV the cost of a litre of diesel was £1.42. I have just driven past my local supermarket fuel station and it is now £1.92. Given what is going on in the diesel market at the moment that is most likely going to increase. (1) The assumed range of my EV is 275 miles. This would cost around £46. Now to charge my EV at home overnight on the cheap rate electricity would cost me c £8.25. This represents a saving of around £37.

If we assume in a year I travel 8000 miles then the saving would be:

Cost for old Diesel car: £1342
Cost for EV: £240

Saving c £1100

Now this is the best case scenario and doesn’t take account of the times I have had to use public charging which is considerably more than charging at home. Nonetheless, the savings I will make in the first year will more than cover the cost of getting a charger fitted to my house.

BBC News Website 28/09/2026

Heat Pump

I’m not sure whether other modern cars have heat pumps fitted so I’m not sure this is really down to owning an EV. Anyway, my car has a heat pump so I can warm the cabin up or cool the car down dependent on the external temperature before I drive off from the app on my phone. I could also mention I have heated seats but I have driven many ICE (Internal Combustion Engine) cars so I can’t mention that!

BBC News Website 28/09/2026

Civilised Place to Be

This is difficult to put you finger on but the lack of any engine noise or vibration makes driving a much enjoyable place to be. Again, ICE (Internal Combustion Engine) cars can reach such levels of silence but they are usually much more expensive than what I can afford.

Range Anxiety

I still suffer from this but as the months go by it is lessening. However, if I have a long journey I spend time planning where the best charging options are before a wheel turns. Now I believe the on board computer can do this for me but I feel happier to have some idea before setting off.

My experience that there are usually plenty of charging station at motorway services or near to motorway junctions and the car’s sat nav is really good at identifying where the nearest charging station is. Of course these are much more expensive than charging at home but they are still much cheaper than the cost of diesel I would have needed for my old car.

Summer Months

As I have owned my EV in the summer months it means that this has been the best time for my battery range. As things get colder then the range will reduce thanks to good old physics. So any result I mention here are only provisional. If I get round to a 1 year update then it will be interesting to compare my battery range over 12 months than the best 6 months I am reporting on here .

Six Months on…would I do it again knowing what I know now?

Stupid question I know but yes I would do. This Trump induced fuel nonsense may well pass but there will be any number of other fuel shocks that will hit us in the future. Even if we go ahead and exploit the very last MJ of energy from the North Sea we are still going to have to rely on imports to make up the difference. Electricity is mostly home generated and as we increase the amount of renewable sources as well as nuclear capacity the percentage will increase. Running an EV is cheaper and is likely to continue to be in the foreseeable future.

The switch from ICE to EV isn’t straight forward. There is a certain amount of cultural shock to get over. I have been driving an ICE vehicle for over 50 years that is one big chunk of my life. There were bound to be teething problems. However, these problems were short term and very quickly you start to wonder why other people haven’t taken the plunge. So if you are looking to buy a new car in the next few months I would recommend you switch to an EV. It isn’t straight forward but the teething pains are worth it.

FN

(1). This was first written yesterday and since then the RAC has reported that the average price of a litre of diesel is now £1.99. Driving locally this morning I have seen the price of a litre of diesel listed as between £1.93 – £2.05. I suspect things are only going to get worse.

I am not gloating. Millions of people are suffering thanks to one man’s stupidity.

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A Few Nights Away…

County Durham in the autumn. Or to put it another way … we took a few days away from our hectic schedules to recharge the batteries.

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Two Women and their Dogs…

Just how do you photograph monuments that are over 6000 years old and spread over a number of acres? The answer is that I don’t know but it was fun taking a walk amongst monuments that are older than Stonehenge. Welcome to Thornborough Henges.

Hugely significant Neolithic monuments they may be but they are far from the madding crowds of Stonehenge. So instead of a visitor centre crammed with visitors from around the world there was me and two women and their dogs. Such is life.

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Already?…

Is it a sign as to how old you are getting when you complain about shops flogging merch aimed at a particular audience/festival weeks before the date of the said event? Is it? Probably. I think this is filed along with all the other ‘…it wasn’t like that in my day…’ harrumphing you might do.

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Three Counties…

Finding the words. Where are the words? I’m really not sure what to write about yesterday. The aim was simple: Capture more images for Boudica and Bosworth project. Aim achieved. Tick in the box.

Then today I started to work through the images and things were fine. That is until I came to the image of the Bilstone Gibbet. Now death doesn’t bother me (goodness knows I’ve seen enough in my time) but as I was working on the image the Forest Gump theme started to play and it stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t finish the image (hence it is not here). I was going to work on an image that included one of the oldest railway bridges in the world (c1830). But I haven’t. The simplest things change all our plans from time to time: Forest Gump’s juxtaposition with crime and punishment was one of those.

Anyway to end on a more upbeat note? The photo above contains three counties. The tree in the foreground is just about in Leicestershire. The first church spire is in Warwickshire and the second spire is in Staffordshire. It also marks the boundary between the Danelaw and King Alfred’s England. The reason why I know that is the field by the tree would have been measured in Cararcates and the field by the two churches would have been measured Hides. It is also where the East Midlands ends and the West Midlands starts. Not bad for a small piece of land.

Perhaps I found the words afterall.

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That Was a Summer That Was…

None of us know. None of us know what will happen tomorrow. If we are lucky we’ll wake in the morning refreshed and wonder. Maybe at the beauty we behold. We take a deep breath and get on with our day.

Too many of our fellow human beings don’t have that option. Their life was unbearable when they finally got to sleep the night before and and the dawn will bring no respite. Life is short. Life is painful and life is something that happens to other people. Hell is what life is for these people.

This might seem a depressing way to say goodbye to a hot dry summer but it is the world in which we all live.

These images were taken on the last day of summer 2019. The next time this lens would capture another summer we would have all learnt a new world. COVID.

I suspect, one way or another, we are all living through our own long COVID.

Next stop on the journey of life up here in the north – Autumn.

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Rain Drops and Reshoots…

For most of the summer the small piece of the world jave called home for more years than I care to remember has looked mostly like this. Sunny, Dry and Hot. The ground is rock hard. Then the other day the forecasts started to change. Gone are romantic blue skies, their demure clouds promising much but delivering so very little. In their place is work a day grey and the pleasant pitter patter of rain.

The world no longer has the hard ring of summer but is replaced by the soothing rain. The traffic no longer thunders by. In its place is a pleasing swish as it deals with the puddles. Puddles we have puddles!

I know this giddy excitement will pass but after what seems like forever we are now getting steady, British rain. We can go back to complaining about the rain. Bliss.

Before the rain arrived I went out and captured some reshoots for the new project Boudica and Bosworth.

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541

Life is so very strange and wonderful. We should all try our best to make the most of things whilst we can. None of us know whether this is our last days. Actually scrub that. For some people they have a pretty good idea that today may well be their last day.

So it must have been for the PBI as they trudge towards each other on Bosworth Field 541 years ago. What the hell must have been going through their minds? I thank all that is holy that I don’t really know. I have a sense but that is all.

Today the area is all chocolate box with an expectation of Miss Marple riding by. How transitory our lives are.

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What Must It be Like? …

To be Taylor Swift … What must it be like? I haven’t got the first clue and even the thought of such a thing brings me out into a cold sweet. I’m sure those within their respective gilded cages would argue that the things they have given up are worth what they have gained. They could well be right. I am in no position to judge. Those inhabitants might as well be from another planet. I suspect quite a few might actually think that they are.

What has that random thought have to do with anything? I can provide no answer as it just surfaced whilst I was thinking about this post. The older I get the more these random thoughts seem to appear unannounced.

Life is messy. None of us neatly fit into the boxes we try to or forced to be in. Bits of us spill over. We are not what we seem.

As I sit here writing this increasingly insensible piece of nonsense, our local herring gulls are serenading me with their seaside calls. The only problem is that I am about as far from the sea as it is possible to be in Britain. I suspect the chances of any of these birds ever seeing a herring, let alone eating one, are vanishingly small. And yet their cry is still the sound of the coast in my memory.

See … life doesn’t fit into the box we wish it might. Our ordered world is some other person’s hell. Living with the dissonance is one of the skills we have to nurture. Some of us never really manage that.

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I’d rather be on horseback …

Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee.
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch Have I pluck’d off,
to grace thy brows withal:Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Richard 3rd Act 5 Scene 3.

In the land of Three Kings.

Once more unto the breach…

Too much Shakespeare? I’m afraid you long suffering reader are going to have put up with. Yesterday we spent time in the land of the 3 kings. Now I should explain this is what I thought whilst driving around south west Leicestershire with my partner in all these adventures David Manley. It should be clear who the first two kings were Richard 3rd and Henry the 7th. But the third? Who could be that be? None other than King Liar.

More Shakespeare? I know I know but I can’t help it. We were working in Peckleton and it suddenly struck me about how ancient the countryside the village sits in. The village itself straddles alongside the Roman Leicester to Mancetter. This puts us in the mid 1st century but there are older locations in the area.

Close by is the Herewood or Leicester Forest. The name suggests its existence long before the arrival of the Normans. Could this be where Liar sat upon a blasted heath? To the west of the woodland was extensive heathland. I could go on. For the purpose of this post this is the land of Lear. This is also what Geoffrey of Monmouth thought as well when he recorded the story of Lear.

None of this proves anything other than sometimes my subconscious takes me to some unusual places. For this little blog that is fine.

Of course the true stars of the countryside around here are Richard Plantagenet, third of this name and Henry Tudor, the seventh king to be named thus. There are a series of sculptures scattered around the battlefield area between Sutton Cheney and Fenny Drayton. The best by far can be found in the Sutton Cheney church yard. It evokes the last night of Richard’s reign beautifully (I hope my photos above captures this even in some small way.)

The tourist industry in the area has never looked back since the remains of the last Plantagenet king were discovered exactly where the older maps sad they would. Despite being the heart Lancasterian England, it could be argued that the whole Wars of the Roses began in the bedrooms of Leicester castle about 100 years before Richard’s death. The City and County celebrate the last night and day of the King. Not sure how historically accurate irony is.

Expect more such rambles over the next few weeks and month as we slowly traverse around the district of Hinckley and Bosworth. I wonder whether we’ll finish this before the council is abolished? Only time will tell.

Pip Pip.

PS: We had lunch in a charming local pub, The George and Dragon, Stoke Golding almost next to where Lord Stanley is alleged to have uttered the speech at the start. Such are life’s little foibles.

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