Are you also one of those people for whom a look at the operating manual borders on personal defeat? Ever since driving the 1st Edition Volvo C40 Recharge Pure Electric Twin, my attitude towards it has changed fundamentally. “Anything unclear?” the Volvo spokesman asked me politely before handing me the key to the C40. “No, no,” I waved him off. After all, I still managed to get a car out of the yard, even if it meant double-clutching, minutes of pre-heating or – as with a vintage Renault Formula 1 car – briefly using the leg strength of a tour operator to step on the clutch. de France participants required. I closed the door and settled into the fabric seats.
The C40 is a cross between an SUV and a coupe; Volvo advertises that it is completely leather-free. And then I sat there, in this vegan paradise, looking for something to set the 4.44 meter long and 2185 kilogram colossus in motion. But there was nothing! No ignition lock, no start button, nothing.
Volvo, I thought, has always been good at saving smart; For example, by implanting a speed limit of 180 kilometers per hour in their cars, thereby reducing development costs. And with the C40, the Swedes simply gave themselves the start button. This is unusual, but once again only logical. Foot on the brake, automatic on D, then it started.
The Volvo drives unexcitedly electrically with a lot of oomph, but above all it manages to stage simple materials such as plastic and fabric. The layered dashboard made of plastic is reminiscent of natural forms, at night elements of it glow in a fine silver, and the floor mats, some of which are made of recycled textile, are convincing in fjord blue.
The sons quickly liked the C40 so much that they suggested I just keep it. It would be a bit small as a family car with its steeply sloping roof at the back. But at least big enough to mount two child seats in the back and to transport 413 liters of luggage. How do I get the exact numbers? Didn’t I mention that I’ve been reading guides lately?