Seeing Red, Quietly

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoSome days announce themselves the moment you open your eyes. Today was one of them. After all the paperwork, the gathered documents and the neat little pile by the door, it was finally time to collect our first electric car.

The iCAUR 03 was waiting for us, and it was red. This was Anita's choice, made some time ago with the calm certainty of someone who had never seriously considered any other option. I had offered opinions about greys and silvers at the time. They were received politely and filed somewhere I suspect I will never find them. Seeing it in person, I am happy to concede the point. It looked rather pleased with itself, and so, frankly, did she.

There is a small ceremony to these things. Signatures, keys, a walk around the car while someone explains features at a speed suggesting they have done this many times before. Then the moment itself, pulling away and noticing, almost immediately, the silence. No rumble, no clearing of the throat, just a soft hum and the road. It is an odd sensation at first, rather like discovering you have been talking loudly in a library for years without realising.

Driving it home felt less like a commute and more like a small parade of two. I took the corners with the exaggerated care of a new owner and glanced at the mirrors more often than strictly necessary, mostly to admire the colour reflected in shop windows.

The celebration, alas, came with a time limit. Before long I was heading straight back to clinic, the new car parked somewhere I kept thinking about, like a child left with a babysitter for the first time.

The evening brought a dinner talk at BSC, and Anita came along, arriving with the car. I would like to say this was for the pleasure of my company, but I suspect the drive was at least part of the attraction. The talk went well, the food was good, and there was a pleasing symmetry in leaving together in something new.

Afterwards we did what any reasonable couple with a new car would do. We drove around town for a bit, entirely without purpose, simply because we could. Kuala Lumpur at night is kind to aimless driving. The roads loosen, the lights soften, and the city seems content to let you wander.

Our wanderings took us past the Petronas Twin Towers, which were unusually abuzz. Kimi Antonelli and George Russell had been visiting ahead of this weekend's F1, and by the time we passed by, the crowd was just about to leave. We had, in effect, missed two of the fastest drivers in the world by a matter of minutes, while sitting in our own quiet car going at a very respectable thirty. There is a lesson about timing in there somewhere, though I am not entirely sure what it is.

Home now, and the red car is parked outside, ticking over in its own silent way. It was a happy day. Simple as that, and none the worse for it.