I have still not learned to fill the car with petrol and although I can't say it's an undertaking I've always longed to conquer, I actually have tried. The problem is that those hose contraptions are far too heavy for someone suffering from moderate arthritic deterioration of wrist joints. So generally I go to the service station very early on Sunday mornings and beg for help. The Z station nearby are usually more than co-operative though I can't say the same of others.
Recently, with my daughter visiting from London and thus buoyed and heartened with false confidence I tried once more to get on top of the dilemma because unless I'm prepared to take buses or Ubers everywhere, it's a problem that has to be overcome. She would stand by ready to intervene should it become necessary she said and it became necessary remarkably quickly because not only did I drop the unmanageable hose, my bank card suddenly decided not to work. So she used hers because there was no escaping the fact that we needed fuel as we were on our way to visit Ellie in Miranda. We drove towards the motorway in silence; well, she was driving of course because not only am I incapable of filling a Honda Jazz with fuel, I also no longer drive motorways. To be honest I've never been keen on them but there was a time when I would drive English motorways, if I'd had plenty of sleep the night before and didn't have the children quarrelling in the back seat. Somehow the lanes on UK motorways seem just a little wider and people are much better at signaling what they are about to do. There's something about New Zealand motorways that seems rather more hazardous.
Considering all the above I found the prospect of the Probus morning talk the other day decidedly tedious because not only am I not overly enthusiastic about cars in general, when car companies go in for major operational changes I find it more traumatic than most people seem to. It took me more than a year to become accustomed to the Automatic after driving a Manual all my life.
It seemed that Desley the Deputy Mayor was not available to talk to us about whatever it was she had in mind and instead someone called Peter would give a talk about EVs - he had been a devotee for nearly a decade and knew all there was to know. Peter certainly gave us a great deal of information which clearly a number of us found informative because I noticed two people taking notes. He was getting close to the end of his discourse and I was hoping there would not be too many questions when realisation dawned, quite suddenly and perhaps a little like some people find religion. I won't be as dramatic as to claim I felt I was touched by the wings of angels but it was a little like that. - If I became the owner of an Electric Vehicle I would never again have to face the daunting prospect of filling a car with petrol! My heart actually began to beat a little more rapidly I swear it.
No more dawn visits to the Z station - no more humiliation as truck drivers on morning pie breaks stride forward to give assistance - no more sleepless nights as the fuel gauge creeps relentlessly ever closer to zero. Just a simple plugging into whatever the charger device might be called - and didn't Peter say they were all over the place? We might even think about getting one for Farnham Street.
It's an idea definitely worthy of consideration.
But you would have to charge it !
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