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photographer Jonny disappeared off to try and find a socket set, I filled the offending tyre with fix-it goo, and – very carefully – drove the car towards salvation. Off-road. Mostly on the rim, with teeth gritted hard enough to crack enamel. Two hours later, we were rescued by Simon, a Forestry England ranger whose ratchet did what I patently couldn’t, so I sort of stood at the back looking sheepish. Still, mobile once again, we were still in search of the real pole star, so it was back on the road to seek out some professional help.

And it’s on the road that the Polestar 2 confirmed why it’s a TopGear favourite. Because it’s simply one of the most rounded everyday EVs on the market. It doesn’t offer the stark technological commitment of a Tesla, or a half-hearted application of lithium-ions, but something that manages personality to go with the mature style. The interior is a subtle cocoon, the exterior stylish rather than self-conscious. And of course, electric cars are good at acceleration.

You sort of sit, astonished, as here becomes there with very little intimacy of the bit in-between – and this is a car that can hit 62mph in less than five. But the 2 also manages to make corners fun. A lot of electric cars seem to attack a curve with enthusiastic banality, effect without texture. But the Polestar, even with its damping adjusted the wrong way and 150kg strapped to the roof, manages to be grown up and tactile. This isn’t the forthright excitement of a characterful internal combustion engine, no, but this car feels rather than baldly articulates. Converses in subtleties and the gaps left by big shouty emotion. It’s a grower.

Soon enough we’re tracking up yet another lonely road towards tonight’s date. Night has fallen, which is useful, and the Big Lights have been deployed, but bright doesn’t really do them justice. A slick, arcing blade of light that stabs out and makes night day. Owls are rendered temporarily blind, and I swear that we are generating enough photons that when first switched on, the lights actually ruffle the leaves on the trees. Eventually though, we come to a rare and welcome sight; the Kielder Observatory, and the help we so desperately need.

The Kielder Observatory is dedicated to bringing the stars just that little bit closer to earth – metaphorically rather than literally – so that we might see them, and stand in galactic awe. It runs stargazy nights for anyone with even a passing interest in astronomy, educates and entertains. It’s supposed to resemble a ship sailing out into the generous view, but actually looks a bit like a wooden tank about to roll off a cliff. But it’s a brilliant building full of wonder. And telescopes. It is also filled with knowledge, in our case in the shape of a certain Dan Pye, director of astronomy. Now Dan is a most excellent human being. He is also very gracious when I repeatedly refer to him as an astrologer. Dan guides us

through the observatory’s mission statement, and thence through a map of the sky, immediately identifying Polaris – actually a triplet of stars about 433 light years away – the brightest point in the constellation Ursa Minor. A pinprick of light in the velvet of night with remarkable properties. Because it’s a compass. Very basically, Polaris sits above the North Pole and therefore doesn’t really move much in the sky – the rest of the stars rotate around it like a giant merry-go-round. Thus, if you get clever with your sextant, it becomes a fixed point for navigation (it’s been used since the 5th century, and Christopher Columbus used it to discover America), and for astrometry – you can figure out where everything else is in the sky by identifying Polaris. And Polaris is a contraction of the Latin stella polaris, or pole star.

Standing out in the freezing night-time, staring red-cheeked up into a clear night littered with glittering celestial sparkle and listening to Dan warmly enthuse about the mythology of the stars, it’s hard not to feel small. It’s strange, but we try to lobotomise ourselves inch by pernicious inch by watching cat videos on the internet, and completely forget that the night sky can be better than telly. Quieter, certainly. Less prone to ad breaks, for sure. But better. Sometimes, to be awed, all you have to do is look up.

And it makes me think. The difference between a good and bad car these days is usually an area, rather than a hard line. A broader sweep than a specific point. Of course, one thing can tip the balance, but it’s harder than it used to be to identify a definitive. And this is something that’s even more stark when you compare electric motivation, because like it or not electric drivetrains have largely the same flavour of delivery. But the Polestar 2 is a standout. Not because it is perfect, but because it has a gentle character that gives it just that little measure of soul. It’s a steady, reliable datum in the evolution of electric, just like the celestial pole star is in the night sky. It’s going to help us navigate the next few years. If the future of electric cars is built on first attempts like this, then the future is bright for EVs. And like the star that shares it name, the Polestar leads the way.

For more information on events in Kielder Forest and at the fantastic Kielder Observatory, head over to: forestryengland.uk, visitkielder.com, kielderobservatory.org

Electric cars are here to stay. The number being sold increases month by month, the percentage share of the marketplace grows... it’s inevitable. The politicians want them, it seems the people want them. I’m not entirely convinced they’re perfect, however they’re very impressive and the offerings are getting better and better. What’s clear is that engineers are very clever people... once they’re sure it’s worth investing their time and effort they will always manage staggering feats.

If you spend any time in an EV from the last year and then go and spend time in one from five years ago, the advances are enormous. I remain excited about the electric landscape, I’m still not sure they’re as engaging as combustion cars, but you just know soon there’s going to be a small, lightweight electric car soon that’s fun to drive.

So where does electrification leave supercars and hypercars? Well, the potential performance that’s on offer when you’ve got four motors attached to four wheels is incredible – we’ll soon reach the stage where humans will need re-engineering to handle the g-force exerted on them. My worry is straight-line performance is fun once, but lacks the same sustenance as a good chassis and characterful engine.

Which is why my electric car of the year is, with a wry look over my shoulder, the Lamborghini Sián – not a hybrid in the conventional sense, it uses a supercapacitor and electric motor to effectively chamfer off harsh gearchanges and add a torque boost at low revs. But the driving experience is sensational – a big V12, all the noise, all the theatre I want from a supercar and a reminder of what a difficult job engineers have to make pure electric cars deliver the same energy and emotion.