I could barely see the incline in the road ahead. Glancing down on my navigation I saw that the magical lightning bold icon was just over that hill. The battery level indicator flashing red. “Vai!, one more hill, we can make it”, yelled out. Unfortunately, not today. The engine sputtered as the half ton EV ground to a halt…. Sounds like a film script? No, this is what happens when an EV dream trip through Portugal buts against reality. Welcome to a dreamy holiday trip turned to painful lesson.
The Libertarian goes Electric
So how did this happen. TLDR answer is charging, or lack thereof. But let's get to the whole story. Portugal might not be that big, but you still need a car to get to all these places since the public transport system isn't that developed outside Lisbon and Porto. So, like most holidaymakers in Portugal, I decided to rent a car. Outside of high season, it can be a very good deal. Having lived in the Lisbon region for a few years, I'd long wanted to explore the centre and north of the country, especially the stunning mountainous region on the border with Galicia. And since I'm a keen champion of the green energy transition, renting an electric vehicle was a natural choice. I mean, we've all heard that electric cars are not only environmentally friendlier than their petrol (or God forbid diesel!) cousins, but are also more fun to drive, with better handling and response. Not to mention the power necessary to dash up steep and curvy roads faster than a mountain goat. Add to that the fact that petrol in Portugal is among the most expensive in all of Europe, how can charging not be a better deal? (Spoiler: at public chargers, it is not!) So, one fine evening after the traffic had settled, I eagerly headed to the rental agency near Lisbon airport and after the formalities, got the keys to a brand-new Peugeot e-2008 compact SUV with a 400-kilometre charge displayed on the dashboard. My first stopping point would be my house where I would pick up gear for the trip, but since I don't own a charger and live in a rural area, I wouldn't be able to fully charge the car before my dash across the country the next day. Flying down the motorway and then the narrow, steep up-and-down roads near my house was a thrill, but reality hit me when I checked the battery gauge on getting home. Even though I live close to the airport as the crow flies, on the ground it's still more than 40km away, so by the time I got home I was already down nearly a fifth of my charge. No worries, I thought, I'll find a charger with no problem when I make my drive up to Figueira da Foz the next day. That's what the government tells us in the news, electric chargers everywhere, movilidade elétrica, for everyone, right?
The Journey North
And then the next day came. I agreed to meet up with a friend at a camp near Figueira da Foz, which is approximately 200km north of Lisbon. Since I still had more than 300km of charge in my car, I figured I wouldn't waste my precious vacation time and would just charge when I got to my destination. Unfortunately, that was not to be. Before I left my home region, I had to do a last-minute dash for provisions, and given that I'm in an isolated area, that meant a trip in the opposite direction of my destination. So, when I was done and dusted and finally on the road, I saw that I only had about 275km of charge left. I was a bit surprised, since it appeared to me that the charge indicator kilometres were decreasing faster than what reckoned I was driving. I took note but didn't pay much attention to it, since the first part of my trip was along winding rural roads with beautiful scenery and I was loving the handling of the car. I was however now in a hurry, since the unexpected shopping took time and I wanted to reach my destination before it got dark so that I could join my friend on the beach for the evening. Therefore, when I merged onto the motorway I was going quite fast, not too much over the 120km speed limit, but fast enough. A few times when I was overtaking and didn't pay attention I saw that the car had accelerated to 140km, even though I felt like I was driving at 100. Amazing. And then reality hit. As I was speeding along, I saw that the kilometres on my charge indicator were melting faster than an ice cream cone in the hands of a tourist in Baixa on an steamy august day. I was about an hour away from my destination when I saw that my charge indicator was less than 100km. I checked Google Maps for how much distance I had left. 120km. Oops. What happened to my charge estimate when I set out? As I was driving on, my anxiety increased proportionally to the disappearing charge on the dashboard, and when I saw it was approaching 50km, I made a decision that I would have to stop to charge even if that meant not getting to my destination on time. I also slowed down below the 120km per hour speed limit because I felt that my fast driving was melting away the charge. As the charge indicator hit 40km, I was starting to panic. I saw that there was a service station on the motorway 10km ahead and I knew I would have to stop there. When I pulled off the motor, my hopes were quickly dashed. Unfortunately, I pulled off onto one of the old school service areas which only had a Repsol petrol station and no chargers anywhere in sight. And now what? I looked into Google and went into EV mode to see where the nearest chargers were. Not much luck since I was in a rural area. The only option for me was to pull off earlier from the motorway and take an alternate route toward my destination along a local road where I saw there were several chargers. But that was still about 30km away from where I was…the anxiety was building. As I pulled back onto the motorway and drove at a speed that in Portugal is normally reserved for 80-year-old-plus drivers in their boxy cars from back before Portugal joined the EU, I saw in panic that the charge was literally disappearing before my eyes. By the time I pulled off from the motorway onto the local road I was down to 15km. A cold sweat came over my face. Will I make it? I checked the map for the charger. It was still 20km away. Shit, I thought. But the indicator always has a safety margin, right? That's the lesson I learned from my lifetime driving petrol cars.
Flashing Red
As I was carefully driving through the small villages on the national road getting closer to that mythical charger, the car went into emergency mode. The battery charge light was flashing red and the car slowed down to 50km per hour. I tried to be as gentle with the acceleration, much to the chagrin of the other drivers on the road, but in the end it wasn't enough. I glanced at the map. Salvation was a few kilometres away, but my battery charge indicator was flashing red at zero. The car was starting to slow down. I questioned my sanity. Panic time! The reality of my predicament hit me like a ton of bricks. As I was inching closer to that elusive charger on Google, I noticed the road angling up ahead, and on cue, the car started slowing down and convulsing as the battery let go of its last electrons. I was stuck in the middle of the road with no turn-offs ahead. Engaging survival mode, I remembered I had just passed a turn-off on my right. I activated the warning lights and, putting the car into neutral and waving my hands out the window to the disbelieving drivers sitting behind me, indicated that I was going to pull off the road. Backwards. Thankfully, after giving me confused looks, they obliged and slowly overtook me as I backed off into a narrow side road. By sheer dumb luck (or catastrophically bad planning), I ended up on the side of a small rural road with no traffic in sight. And near the entrance to a random building with some stores and apartments on top, and, more importantly, parking! I was not entirely blocking the road , but certainly my Peugeot was getting in the way of any car that would have to pass through there. I got out of the car and started cursing at myself. How did I get here? I was blaming myself, the country, the car, and my friend who implored me to hurry up. But that didn't help. I had to take action, especially since evening was coming and in an hour or so it would be dark, making any potential resolution that much more problematic.
The Manual Push Solution
I assessed the situation. It was definitely not in a good place to be and I needed to move it out of the way. But where? “Electric Car needs electricity. Electricity comes from wall plug. Need to get to a wall plug”, my limbic system blurted out. Ah , but electricity runs though cables…need cable! The problem was that the cable in the car was only a few meters long and was a special high voltage one for only for connecting chargers while I needed to connect to a normal outlet. Where could I find one?. It was Sunday evening and I was stuck in the middle-of-nowhere Portugal as dusk was settling in. I got out of the car and inspected the building in front of my unfortunate landing site. All the shops were already closed save for one restaurant which seemed to have some movement inside. I looked at the back of the building where the residents parked and thought that perhaps if I put my car there it would be within reach of any electrical plug where I could in theory connect my half-a-ton movable beast. Somehow, I assumed that I would manifest the house car charger and it would magically appear. I got in the car. Miracle! After sitting still for 10 minutes it was able to eke out just enough power to crawl 50 m to the back of the building next to the restaurant and the building garages. I prayed that I left enough space for any cars that wanted to leave could get through. I got out again and looked around. Although I was right up to the building, I didn't see any outside outlets and the restaurant windows were closed. All of a sudden I had a sobering thought: "But who on earth would just happen to have a spare car charge cable lying around?" I mean I'm not in China, and not even in the city. After circling the building and finding no soul in sight, never mind one who just happened to be a proud owner of an EV. I was not going to get out of this predicament soon, and I shuddered to think of the unlucky resident whose garage I was blocking when they tried to leave to work on Monday morning, only to find an immobile car blocking their exit. Não, I couldn't leave the car there, so against all odds I had to undertake one last attempt at moving the Peugeot it and putting it in the parking lot of the shops at the front of the building. At least there I wouldn't be in anybody's way if I didn't find that magical charging cable in the next hour. And so, I climbed into the driver's seat and, praying to God, turned it on and gently pressed the accelerator. The car barely moved but it was enough for me to reverse and move away from the back of the building onto the side road from which I came. And the it was over. The car convulsed, the engine letting out convulsing sounds as it ground to a screeching halt. I was 80 meters and one turn away from my destination at the front of the building. Oh, what do I do now? This time I was blocking the road and quick action had to be taken. I looked around. The road was nearly flat but there was just enough of a gradient that I could get a boost from gravity and a bit of inertia to crawl down to the parking lot. Easy-peasy, I thought, just put the car into neutral, let go of the handbrake and it will start moving. Not so fast. The electric car automatically turns on the handbrake if it's in park. So, I had to get in the car, turn on the accelerator and flip the gear switch lever into neutral. No response. The car wouldn't budge. Since I had to go backwards, I put it into reverse and tried to reactivate the moribund engine. Unfortunately, it seems that the charge required to move the car in reverse is greater than to go forward. I was fully stuck now.
The Window Exit
Well, if it ain't gonna move by itself, I have to actively move it. But there was a small problem. Technology! As soon as I opened the driver's side door, the handbrake was activated and the gear switched to park. I couldn't be outside of the car when it was in neutral!
Any sane person would have given up at this point, but I think outside the box. Or outside of the car in this case. I realized that if I opened the window I could just crawl out of it without activating the emergency parking brake sequence. So that's what I did. I crawled through the window like a determined cat trying to squeeze in a box, and got out in front of the car to give it a gentle push.
The beast started moving, thankfully slowly enough that I could jump to the side and with one hand pushing on the car and the other on the steering wheel down it went. Meu Deus!, my gambit worked. I managed to get just enough velocity where I could skilfully guide it through the S-turn in to the parking lot and guide it to a curb that provided just enough resistance for it to come to a halt.
Another bullet dodged. As the adrenaline came down, I had the realization that the worst had passed. But just as quickly a sobering thought entered my brain. I was still stuck in the middle of nowhere with no way of charging the car, night was setting in, and I was more than 20km from my destination.
Just at that point I saw there was a couple peeking out of the window of one of the flats above to smoke. I gestured at them and told them about my predicament. No surprise they didn't have a charger but they did say there was one woman who lived in the apartment complex who had an electric car. Maybe she would be able to help me, but they didn't know her nor did they have any clue whether she was at home or not, or which flat she lived in for that matter.
At this point I gave up on the idea of finding a charger at this hour in the night. It was time to move to Plan B: towing.
Plan B (Letting go the Tow)
But just as my dumb luck would have it, the insurance coverage which I got for the car did not include full roadside assistance. I mean I was driving a brand-new vehicle with less than 4000km, and besides I knew how to change a flat tyre. Why would I need roadside assistance? Well, need it I did, but it was late Sunday night and at this hour the nearest towing service would be in Figueira da Foz which is more than 30km away. Not only would it take a good few hours but it would probably cost me multiples of my rental. I had no desire to spend the night in the car, or spend most of my vacation budget a tow service, so in a mix of desperation and resignment I called my friend. He is a road warrior, having travelled Europe in his well tread camper van. Surely he would have towing gear and could pull me that elusive km to the charger? To my dismay, despite the adventurous streak, my friend also came from a country where following the rules was a part of his DNA. "Auf keinen Fall”, he said. "No fucking way”. “Your car doesn't have a towing attachment and in any case if something breaks along the way you would be responsible." I said I have full insurance coverage, so he didn't need to worry. "Nein" was the response. And so, after nearly ending our friendship I calmed down and resigned to accept the reality. He was however generous in coming down and rescuing me, even though he was 20 km away, so I wouldn't have to spend the night in the dead car. He offered to drive me to the campground where we were to have met. And where in an alternative universe we would be enjoying a relaxing evening after a fun surf session and watching the sunset. When he arrived a half an hour later it was already completely dark. I grabbed all I needed for the night in darkness and threw it in his van. There was one thing to be done though before I left the scene of my sorrow. The car was in the parking lot but between two spots. I did not want any more trouble when the stores opened tomorrow morning and I was not there. Turning on the car and seeing that it won't move, I had to do another yoga pose and squeeze myself out of the window so that I could move the car forward and back to put it in a better position. At least I had my friend there to help me just in case, and one part of me was feeling smug to demonstrate my newfound acrobatic skills. I grabbed the few things out of my packed car and climbed into my friend's passenger side seat, barely squeezing between the random stuff that he had there from his months on the road.
The End of the Road (for the timebeing)
And as soon as we got on the road, I saw up ahead that elusive charger which, alas, was beyond my reach on this fateful night. Or at least beyond the reach of my car. I thought about the crazy eventualities which got me to this point, how many things had to go wrong to get me here. And about never trusting the battery level indicator on an electric car. Lessons learned. Too many. Well, at least I would have a place to sleep, and hopefully find a way out of my predicament tomorrow. So much for watching that sunset over the ocean. This was not what I envisioned for the first evening of a magical trip. As we were driving into the night, my friend looked over to me. "Why didn't you just rent a damn petrol car?" I did not respond, sulking away. "So much for the green energy transition," I thought as I covered my head in shame.
To be continued in Part 2, where I undertake a wild goose chase for those elusive electrons.