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Back to Library >Our Cars: Alpine A290 GTS
The A290's interior will look familiar to anyone who's driven a new Renault 5
Meanwhile, the drive mode button on the steering wheel is so hopelessly unresponsive the first time you press it you’ll swear it’s broken. Why would an electric button lag like that? Bizarre. On the subject of steering wheel-mounted switches, the red boost button – labelled ‘OV’, presumably for overtake – that you squeeze with your thumb to get full power is actually quite fun in a computer game kind of way, but the silly warp speed graphics that flash up on the dash are pointless. They don’t make me feel like I’m flying through space – and I don’t think an Alpine should resort to such gimmicks. The A110 didn’t.
Talking of which, the A110 is responsible, in a roundabout sort of way, for another of this car’s curious quirks: the lack of cupholders. Alpine’s designers chose to fit drive selector buttons like those seen in the A110 just forward of the A290’s armrest. That creates a neat genetic link between the two, but since that’s where the cupholders would otherwise live, it means there’s nowhere to put your coffee cup or water bottle. Helpfully the guys at Bespoke Chargers have produced a 3D-printed clip-on cupholder that attaches to the side of the centre console – problem solved.
Finally, the car’s very sporty side skirts might make it look like a tarmac rally car – a very good thing, obviously – but rainwater pools in them and they make the sill very wide. If you’re too eager to climb aboard after a heavy rainfall, you’ll get wet feet. Also, those wide sills mean you must be careful not to foul your trouser leg. You can spot an A290 driver in the wild because they’ll have one grubby ankle.
"This, for me, is an electric car without the one major EV drawback"
None of which is enough to stop me really liking this car – and I’m enjoying it for reasons you might not expect. I’ve written before that the A290 is a genuinely entertaining hot hatch, but in truth I rarely drive it like one. Normally I’m going into town, doing the nursery run or driving to the shops, which is exactly the sort of thing a small EV excels at. And for that sort of very functional, close-to-home driving, I’d choose a car like this over anything else. So for all its peppy straight line speed and excellent handling, I actually like this car because it’s a compact EV, not because it’s a hot hatch.
Let me break that down. To drive into a city centre, I’d far rather be in something small than something vast. Little cars are just easier and more fun to drive in urban centres. And this one, with its 218bhp and 221lb ft electric motor, is brisker than most, meaning you can pick your way through traffic almost like a motorcycle rider.
We’re lucky to have another car at home, an Audi S5 Avant that takes care of all family and long-distance duties, meaning the Alpine is only used for local trips. And we can charge at home, which is both convenient and cheap. I’ve only plugged this car into a public charge point once in five months. Larger EVs, meanwhile, tend to be used for longer journeys, at which point you are at the mercy of this country’s patchy public charge network. This, for me, is an electric car without the one major EV drawback.
“Petrol and diesel engines hate short trips. What’s more, using your fun car for boring trips makes that car seem less fun. A small EV solves those problems. It makes you a better petrolhead”
And there’s a bigger point to be made here. If you can keep a small EV at home for local use, you don’t need to use your special car for the sorts of journeys it’s not suited to. Petrol and diesel engines hate short trips – they’re inefficient when cold and driving them without going through a full heat cycle wears them out. What’s more, using your fun car for boring trips makes that car seem less fun. A small EV solves those problems. It makes you a better petrolhead.
Given all of that, wouldn’t this car’s sibling, the cheaper and more efficient Renault 5, be the better option? You could make a strong case for it, but at least the A290 can thrill on a great road, however infrequently that might happen. It just depends how you’ll use it.
It all boils down to this: having a small EV (even a sporty one like the A290) creates clear separation between the types of driving I do. It takes care of all the local journeys that just need to be done, and done cost-effectively. That protects my time in special cars, keeping recreational driving fun. And that is why every car enthusiast should aim to keep at least one small electric car in the fleet.
Or have I got that wrong? Should a true car lover aspire to drive something exciting, or interesting at least, and very much petrol-powered every single time he or she needs to go somewhere by road? I suspect lots of you will see it that way and I understand why. So please do let me know if it’s better to be behind the wheel of a special car with a great combustion engine every time you drive, or if there is some merit in owning a more sensible car (which I’d prefer to be electric but clearly doesn’t need to be) and keeping your pride and joy tucked away for the right occasion. I’d love to know.

