 of a top speed of 45mph, this glorified metal golf buggy is tailor-made for a summer day in Cornwall. The breeze is always invigorating, its clutch-free engineering makes hill-climbs a cinch, and the low windowless sides beg you to jump in and out on the slightest pretext. You want an ice cream? It's no bother to stop. You see a view? The impulse is to pull over immediately. And if your chosen beach is too busy, you'll be happy to whine electrically on to the next one. It's the free-wheeling, zig-zagging, wind-in-your-hair runaround you never knew your holiday needed. Meanwhile, anyone driving an ordinary car looks like an astronaut: shut away behind protective walls of metal and glass. They are very polite astronauts, though. In part, that's because I'm always pulling in to let them pass — after all, I'm in no hurry. But generally, they like what they see. Not once am I beeped for holding up the traffic as I pootle cheerfully along. Kynance Cove, Cornwall GETTY IMAGES 'We wanted to offer our guests a bit of sustainable fun,' says Grant Callaghan, the general manager of the Polurrian on the Lizard, the hotel whose logo is emblazoned down the side of the Moke. Sitting pretty on a clifftop just outside Mull){kind=link}
Every time I stop my Nosmoke Moke, people gather round. “Last time I saw one of these, I was driving it around Barbados in the 1980s,” says the man in Poldhu Cove car park, on Cornwall’s Lizard Peninsula. Probably, he’s thinking of one of the Moke originals. When I tell him this modern version is electric, his eyes widen. “How cool,” he says.
The grizzled Dutchman I meet later reaches pretty much the same conclusion when we chat above Kynance Cove. And “Cool!” is exactly what the little gang of bicycling boys shout when they see me in Mullion that evening. A part of me will always be nine years old and desperate for a bit of playground validation. As I drive on to my hotel for supper, I’m grinning from ear to ear.
Built in France and capable (at least in my hands) of a top speed of 45mph, this glorified metal golf buggy is tailor-made for a summer day in Cornwall. The breeze is always invigorating, its clutch-free engineering makes hill-climbs a cinch, and the low windowless sides beg you to jump in and out on the slightest pretext. You want an ice cream? It’s no bother to stop. You see a view? The impulse is to pull over immediately. And if your chosen beach is too busy, you’ll be happy to whine electrically on to the next one. It’s the free-wheeling, zig-zagging, wind-in-your-hair runaround you never knew your holiday needed.
Meanwhile, anyone driving an ordinary car looks like an astronaut: shut away behind protective walls of metal and glass. They are very polite astronauts, though. In part, that’s because I’m always pulling in to let them pass – after all, I’m in no hurry. But generally, they like what they see. Not once am I beeped for holding up the traffic as I pootle cheerfully along.
“We wanted to offer our guests a bit of sustainable fun,” says Grant Callaghan, the general manager of the Polurrian on the Lizard, the hotel whose logo is emblazoned down the side of the Moke. Sitting pretty on a clifftop just outside Mullion, it’s offering the vehicle as an incentive for anyone booking its new three-bedroom Island Suite. “That way, they can explore our beautiful coastline without burning any petrol or diesel.”