MIND THE STOPGAP

The Mercedes EQC, the first of Mercedes’ EQ electric cars, comes with a huge weight of expectation. But we didn’t expect its weight to be quite so huge. At 2425kg the EQC is as heavy as a GLS, yet only the same size as a GLC.

One of the reasons is that, despite what the new, vaguely Saab-esque nose would have you believe, it is based on the GLC, and not a clean-sheet design like the Tesla or i-Pace. So closely related are the two that the EQC’s front motor even lives in an engine-shaped steel cage. Hardly a prime example of EV technology unshackling car design from the chains placed by fusty old combustion tech.

The benefit of that strategy, aside from slashing Merc’s development budget, is that it results in a car that requires very little re-learning from a driver dipping a first toe in electric waters. No shocks await existing Benz owners making the switch.

Like Audi’s e-Tron, the EQC could easily pass for a new generation of an existing combustion-engined SUV. It looks clean, modern and bigger than it really is. This you realise when you climb inside. There’s plenty of room in the front, and legroom in the back isn’t bad. But the tapering roofline and shallow glass in the rear doors mean there’s slightly less real headroom than the Jag, and much less of the perceived kind.

There’s less of other stuff, too. The Merc never leaves you wanting for performance, but it feels tangibly less rapid than the Jag (5.2sec to 62mph plays 4.8sec), and feels like a 1978 300D next to the Tesla.

What it needs less of is weight. Not once, after the first exploratory attempt, will you push the EQC hard for the hell of it on an A- or B-road. It’s safe, solid and that’s about your lot. But it’s not fun, despite the motor on the rear axle (there’s another on the front) being the one that does most of the heavy lifting during workouts.

Hustle it down a B-road and it feels heavy, not complaining exactly, but never encouraging like the i-Pace does. Hit either of the two pedals and the nose rises or falls like a speedboat. Hit the right one too hard too often and you’ll decimate a driving range that at 259 miles is already the worst here by some margin.

And to cap it all the Merc is the priciest car in the test (before options) if you buy it outright, and much more expensive if you’re looking at leasing. And don’t think you’ll minimise the hurt by skipping the options list. The basic Sport is well equipped but you’ll almost certainly want to find an extra £1695 for the Driving Assistance bundle that brings active cruise, active braking assist and evasive steering assist, or step up to the AMG Line Premium just for the stunning 21-inch rims fitted to our car.

To sum up, then: less affordable than the Jag, massively slower than the Tesla, much less fun to drive than either and offering a poorer range than even the £32k Kia. Game over, surely?

It ought to be, but the EQC does an admirable job of winning you round. How so? Let’s start with the interior, which in typical Mercedes fashion features more piano black than the Steinway factory. It’s gorgeous.

The wide, slim TFT display now features both touch and trackpad control, the seats are as easy on the arse as the eye, and the whole cabin is almost whisper-quiet, making this an incredibly relaxing place to pass time. And let’s face it, that’s what we’re often doing in cars, not door-handling down B-roads.

The EQC also has a huge boot, and while its range looks weak, and Mercedes doesn’t have its own Tesla-style charging network, Merc has done its best to mitigate that by linking with 80 per cent of public charge providers, whose electricity you can pay for via a card or phone app. There’s also the option of fitting a massively subsidised Chargemaster fast-charge wallbox at your home for £275, which can top up your battery in 11 hours.

Somewhat speedier, a 110kW public rapid charger could theoretically give you 80 per cent charge in 40 minutes. Why theoretically? Because there are hardly any around. Not yet, at least, though that will change soon.

Still, the expanding charger network and the EQC’s charm offensive can’t completely paper over the cracks. Impressive as the interior ambience and refinement is, in key areas the EQC is simply not as good as it could or should be, or as good as the next-generation ground-up version will likely be. The question you need to ask is whether you make do, or shop elsewhere while Merc comes up with something better. ⊲

Hit either of the two pedals and the Merc’s nose rises or

falls like a speedboat