Driving the North Coast 500 in an EV: The joys – and challenges – exploring Scotland's wilderness
And where better to test this out than Scotland's legendary North Coast 500? Not only would this be a lengthy road trip from my home in London, but I was drawn to its wild beauty and epic landscapes. The NC500 also has a reputation for being tricky for EV drivers; while the number of charging stations has ramped up in recent years, there are still issues with chargers temporarily out of action. But I was up for the challenge. With the Peugeot e-208 as my trusty companion, I set out to see just how well Scotland 's rugged roads and electric travel mix.
I knew I wanted to collaborate with Peugeot on this adventure – having travelled to Lagos in my Peugeot 107, driving to Scotland in its electric vehicle was a natural extension. Together, I hoped to show that adventure and leadership aren't limited by gender or technology. Embarking on a 3,000km drive through the wild landscapes of Scotland in an electric car was not just a road trip – it was an exploration of new ways to journey, connect, and prove that adventure doesn't have to fit into the traditional mould.
Over the span of a week, I travelled Scotland's most iconic routes, from winding coastlines to mountainous landscape, admiring not only the scenery, but the epic Highland cattle that roamed free.
Scotland's timeless beauty
Scotland's natural beauty is something I'll never forget. One of the highlights was Durness Beach, where the crystal-clear sea and white sands took my breath away, even under stormy skies. Its raw, untamed beauty was captivating.
Taking a detour off the North Coast 500, I found myself at the Old Man of Storr, a striking remnant of volcanic activity from around 2,800 million years ago. Standing beneath this renowned rock formation on the Isle of Skye, I couldn't help but feel humbled by the sheer scale of geological history and the majestic scenery around me.
Then there was the Wailing Widow Waterfall, where water tumbles dramatically from a narrow gorge into a tranquil pool below. The crisp, cool air carried a sense of peaceful solitude, as if I'd stepped into a mythical, fairytale world – well, apart from my EV quietly parked nearby.
A different pace of travel
One of the defining aspects of this trip was the rhythm that came with driving an electric vehicle. Unlike petrol travel, where stops are usually rushed and functional, charging an EV required me to slow down, to pause and take in my surroundings fully. Each charging point became a checkpoint of sorts. Some stops were nestled along breathtaking cliffs or quaint village corners, and they gave me the space to reflect, recharge, and appreciate the slower pace that's often missing from road travel. I was reminded that the value of the journey isn't just in arriving but in how you get there, the connections you make, and the moments you let yourself savour.
During these breaks, I met fellow travellers who shared stories of why they chose electric vehicles, each with their own motivation and outlook on travel. There's a unique connection that comes from navigating new technologies together. Sharing the experience of driving an EV – and perhaps a common mission to do better for the environment – gives a sense of camaraderie that you just don't find at the petrol pumps.
In these conversations, I found a community of people who valued intentionality and connection in a way I hadn't fully expected. We shared conversations about the road ahead, challenges with route planning, and stories of beautiful detours we'd found along the way. These moments of exchange, fostered by the slower rhythm of EV travel, brought a sense of community to the journey that I hadn't expected. It was a stark reminder that while the EV may take a little longer, it gifts you moments that otherwise would have been overlooked – that are as much a part of the journey as the destination.
Breaking boundaries
Driving an electric vehicle through Scotland's challenging terrain was perhaps a daring choice. EVs are still viewed by some as suited only for city driving or short distances, so the idea of navigating remote landscapes over 3,000km in an EV might raise a few eyebrows. But that was part of the appeal – to push back against the idea that these adventures are only for petrol engines.
I planned my journey based on charging point locations. I'll admit, I started out with a bit of range anxiety on day one, but that quickly faded. As someone new to driving an EV, there was a learning curve – from figuring out which apps to download to discovering the best and fastest charging points. I ended up using ZapMap, which was great for finding out where charging points were. Like anything in life, experience is the best teacher. I soon developed a strategy, treating 20 per cent battery as my personal 'zero.' This simple rule kept me from ever finding myself in a tricky situation and made the journey so much smoother.
Driving through Scotland in an electric vehicle brought a new dimension to my travel experience. One early morning, driving through the ancient, mist-covered valleys of Glencoe, I felt as if I'd entered another world. The car's silence melded with the mist, without the loud, constant hum from the engine, I felt more connected to my surroundings than ever. At times, I found myself stopping not for a charge, but simply to step out, to feel the wind that swept down from the hills or just to take in the incredible view. These were the kinds of moments I might have missed had I not chosen to travel this way.
This journey challenged me in ways I hadn't anticipated. It was a reminder that the adventure lies not just in arriving but in how we choose to get there. My time on Scotland's roads wasn't just about proving what an electric vehicle could do but about embracing a new kind of travel, one that values connection, purpose, and the beauty of taking the road less travelled.
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The Herald Scotland
a day ago
- The Herald Scotland
Please stop blaming campervans for every problem
Fast forward to 2025 and this boom shows little sign of abating. Interestingly, there has also been a demographic shift when it comes to 'typical' campervan and motorhome owners. While traditionally associated with older generations – we're talking well-heeled retirees and middle-aged men – recent times have seen a marked rise of interest among those in their twenties and thirties, particularly women, young professionals and families. Freedom, flexibility, no-frills getaways and a desire to connect with nature, while disconnecting from technology, have all been cited as part of the charm. Yet not everyone is a fan. Campervans and motorhomes have drawn a slew of negative headlines, chiefly in areas such as Skye and the North Coast 500, with fears about the effects of overtourism including infrastructure strain, environmental damage and waste management. Here, we speak to three people from across Scotland who have fallen in love with the magic of campervans, sharing how these home-from-homes on wheels have won their hearts, as well as tackling some of the common misconceptions. The interior of Anna Fleck's campervan (Image: free) ANNA FLECK Every few weeks Anna Fleck and her husband David pack up their campervan and head off on a fresh adventure. But, in their case, it is about more than simply exploring Scotland for fun. It's a vehicle – quite literally – for achieving a much-coveted work-life balance. The Glasgow-based couple are currently travelling around the Highlands and Islands as they pursue their respective vocations. Anna, 36, is a GP, with David, 35, an illustrator and artist. Anna is employed by NHS Shetland under its Rediscover The Joy Of General Practice scheme, covering rural and remote parts of Scotland – an initiative that not only helps to alleviate staffing shortages but allows doctors to share expertise and build experience. David, meanwhile, draws inspiration from the landscapes they encounter along the way for his work, which adorns fine art prints, cards and postcards sold in galleries and shops. When we speak, Anna is halfway through a two-and-a-half week stretch on Shetland. Next month, she will be working on Coll. Where else has been on her GP itinerary? Read more 'This year I have done quite a lot of the North Coast 500: Durness, Armadale, Thurso and Alness,' she recalls. 'Last year, I did down the Kintyre peninsula.' A core part of the appeal, says Anna, is spending quality time as a family with their three-year-old daughter. 'It's about what I'm teaching my wee girl and her getting to explore these places,' she explains. 'When we were up in Harris, she was just learning how to walk and paddling about in the shallow, crystal-clear water. Seeing her get excited about things like climbing a hill or spotting sheep is really beautiful. 'Because I'm working in these communities now, I feel I'm learning much more about what rural life in Scotland is like and some of the challenges people face.' Anna recounts how she and David first fell in love with campervans in 2018 while travelling on the west coast of Australia. 'We loved the freedom that it gave us,' she says. 'When we got back to Scotland, we hired a few campervans to do little trips. 'My husband started thinking he could build us a campervan. We ended up buying an empty van in 2020 and David worked on it as his lockdown project. He did everything: the insulation, the wiring and building all the furniture.' When coronavirus travel restrictions lifted, they made their debut outing. 'The first place we went was Orkney,' she says. The couple have since racked up a long list of incredible locations and have an Instagram account to chart their campervan odyssey. 'Scotland is so cool,' says Anna. 'I love sharing all the different parts. It is also nice to connect with other people who are doing similar things.' She and David have a self-defined mantra when choosing where to visit. 'We do tend to avoid some of the very touristy places, mostly Skye to be honest,' she says. 'Not that we have anything against Skye – it's just because that is where everybody goes. GP Anna Fleck (Image: free) 'We were on the North Coast 500 for work, although thankfully it was before the tourist season. It is beautiful and popular for a reason, but there are so many villages and other places just off the NC500 that people never see because they only follow that one route. 'We always want to be sensitive to the communities that we're visiting,' adds Anna. 'There is no point overcrowding the communities on Skye. We prefer to find different places and Scotland has endless amounts of beautiful places to visit.' She is keen to touch on some of the negative sentiments regarding campervans and motorhomes. 'I can understand if communities are getting frustrated,' says Anna, as we discuss flashpoints around overtourism. 'Being in a campervan, because you are self-sufficient, you are perhaps contributing less to a local community because you're not booking accommodation, but we are aware of that and try to make up for it with how we act in those communities. 'That includes supporting local restaurants, buying from local shops, supporting craft fairs and honesty boxes – going out of our way to contribute to the places we visit. 'Even beyond the financial contribution, I'm part of a Facebook group called Campers Against Litter. We often litter pick, so that we are leaving a positive view about campervans. That is really important. 'We have established guidance for ourselves that we stick by,' she continues. 'We don't camp in view of other people's houses. We don't stay in places for more than one night. If there are signs up saying, 'No campervans,' then we go and find somewhere else. 'We don't go to places that we know are going to be really crowded. It is a small number of people acting in ways that they shouldn't that spoils the perception of campervans.' Follow on Instagram @scotland_by_campervan Callum McGowan and his partner Natalie Pirrie before they outfitted the van (Image: free) CALLUM MCGOWAN It is 18 months since Callum McGowan sold his car and bought a van with the bold plan of converting it into a weekend home on four wheels. 'I'm someone who enjoys being outdoors, adventuring and travelling,' he says. 'I have always been a bit of a petrolhead, so I went from having a high-end sports car to driving a van. I bought it thinking, 'Let's convert it ourselves and turn it into a project that we can have fun with.'' Callum, 27, a personal trainer and coach based between Cambuslang and Saltcoats – along with his partner Natalie Pirrie, 30, who works for a mobile phone company, and the couple's dogs Bella and Max – now travels all across Scotland in his trusty campervan conversion. Bringing that dream to fruition took meticulous planning. 'I chose a Vauxhall Vivaro with a high roof because I wanted something that I could stand up in,' says Callum. 'When I did my research, I found that a lot of people tend to go for Transit Custom vans with extendable roofs. 'I was chatting with one of the guys from the gym, who owns a campervan and has converted a few vans over the years. He told me, 'Don't go with the Transit with the extendable roof because the mesh material lets the heat out, which isn't great for winter.' Read more 'When converting my own van, the biggest thing was trial and error because I don't have a background in joinery, plumbing or construction. But I decided I'd make the jump and figure it out on the way down – that became the theme. 'There are some good websites about campervan conversions and those were great for ideas. I also used things like TikTok and YouTube. Originally, we had planned to put a shower in, but that changed when I realised it would be too hard to fit it into the space we had. 'What we do have is a fully extendable double bed. We have enough solar panel power to live off-grid. We have a diesel generator heater and a sink for fresh water. It is nice having a wee home that is yours, but you could be anywhere in the world.' Callum McGowan and his converted campervan (Image: GT) He is aware of the anti-campervan and motorhome sentiment in some quarters. 'I can see it from both sides of the coin,' says Callum. 'With anything, there are always people who, whether they mean it or not, ruin it for others. 'If we are away travelling in the van, yes, we are getting to experience new places, but I'm also aware that place is somebody's home, so I get the frustration. 'There are so many great campsites now that there shouldn't be a reason to not use these facilities. Do your research before you go. I think a lot of frustration comes from the lack of care people show for the local communities they visit.' Matters aren't helped, he believes, by copious road trippers making a beeline for the same, well-trodden loop, particularly during high season. 'One of my friends works for a car hire firm at Edinburgh Airport,' says Callum. 'He told me that every time people come in, wanting to tour Scotland, they all have the same route planned. They travel around Edinburgh for a bit, then go up to Glen Coe, around Skye, do part of the North Coast 500, before heading back to Edinburgh. 'Part of the problem is that a lot of these places were built hundreds of years ago, so the infrastructure is simply not able to cope with that volume of traffic and visitors. 'We should be highlighting different places to visit around Scotland, whether it's on the east coast, the central belt or down towards the Borders. There are so many hidden gems.' When it comes to his own aspirations, Callum relishes being able to explore and seek out new locations. Callum McGowan in his converted campervan (Image: GT) 'There isn't just one standout because everywhere you go offers something that trumps where you were before,' he laughs. 'I think that is the coolest thing about having a campervan; you don't know what is coming next. 'The big destinations, such as Glen Coe or the NC500, tend not to be the places that blow the socks off you. It will be a small village in the middle of nowhere that has the best chippy you have ever tried. 'In Oban last month, we sat in the van at the harbour, with the side door open, just people-watching and eating a chippy. That was bliss.' Follow on Instagram @callum_projectsynergy Hannah Kibble loves her campervan views (Image: free) HANNAH KIBBLE Whether talking about her love of cold-water dips beside secluded waterfalls, walking the dogs along deserted beaches or sipping coffee as the sun comes up, Hannah Kibble has the kind of infectious enthusiasm that tourist boards can only dream of bottling. Hannah, 37, spent most of her childhood and teenage years in Gairloch, Wester Ross. After a stint in Lancashire, where her wider family still lives, she and her partner Steve Glover, 53, packed up their life, sold their home and moved to Muir of Ord on the Black Isle last summer. In recent years, they have spent almost every holiday and spare weekend enjoying Scotland in their campervan. The couple and their four dogs – Skye, Floss, Dolly and Betty – are now putting down permanent roots north of the border. Hannah splits her time between an admin job and working in a pottery, while Steve is a handyman. They regularly share spectacular photography and footage from their campervan endeavours on Instagram. One of the first things the pair did after their move to Scotland: buy a campervan. This means they now own two – the Volkswagen T5 they have had since 2021 and a larger Volkswagen Crafter purchased last year. There's a funny story behind this, as Hannah reveals. 'We had been talking about getting a bigger van for a long time,' she says. 'Then we were on a trip to Skye and our rescue dog, also called Skye, rolled in sheep poo at 11pm – our T5 doesn't have any running water. Hannah Kibble's partner Steve Glover and the dogs soak up some campervan views (Image: free) 'We had the smell of sheep poo all night and Skye trying to climb up onto the bed with us. I thought, 'I've had enough of this. I want a sink with running water …'' By a stroke of luck, on the same morning they arrived back at Muir of Ord, Hannah spotted a van for sale in nearby Inverness. It felt like serendipity. 'We bought this 13-plate Crafter,' she says. 'It was a bit rough around the edges, but I said, 'We are going to turn this into our little home on wheels.' It took a good six months to get to a point where we could actually use it.' A draw of campervan life is its simplicity. 'One of the things I love is the minimalism of how little you can live with in a small space,' says Hannah. 'You get bogged down by so much in real life. 'My absolute favourite thing is stepping out of the van in my dry robe, with a coffee in my hand, literally rolling out of bed, and being on the beach, listening to the waves. Most of our park-ups involve some form of water because that is where I'm happiest.' What lit the campervan spark for her? 'My family were caravanners,' she says. 'My first caravan trip was when I was two weeks old. I then bought my own caravan in my twenties.' While touring caravans have brought many happy memories, she realised owning a campervan would provide greater freedom and spontaneity on her adventures. 'When Steve and I got together we actually both had caravans. We sold two caravans and a car to buy the T5 – or as Steve put it, 'We sold two caravans and a car to camp in a tin can …'' The T5 is now their daily runaround, with the Crafter used for overnight getaways. Kitting the latter out from scratch has allowed them to put their stamp on a blank canvas. Top of the list: hot running water and a fixed cooker. 'The other thing was creating more space for the girls,' says Hannah, referring to their quartet of dogs. 'They have a big space under our bed, which is an area that most people use for storage, as well as things like gas bottles and electrics. 'We put everything in the front of the van as much as possible to give the girls space in the back. That then created further challenges of how to fit everything in. There was a lot of head scratching and changing the plan as we went.' Do they have an all-time favourite location? 'Skye,' she confirms. 'I know it's such an obvious choice. But because we have done all the tourist spots, we're now finding the off-the-beaten-track places, such as cafes where the locals go. 'We love chatting to people and hearing more about the place from them, rather than the guidebooks. They will laugh about the tour guide stories and accounts of history because, while not completely made-up, the truth might have been extended slightly.' Read more Hannah doesn't shy away from addressing key issues, from gridlocked single-track roads and improper use of passing places to littering, that an influx of campervans and motorhomes are being blamed for in this part of Scotland. 'There is a lot of bad press around driving on Skye,' she attests. 'I have witnessed enough from my point of view to understand why locals do get frustrated.' In her anecdotal experience, 'people underestimate the size [of vehicles] and the size of the roads'. The main culprits, she believes, tend to be 'hire cars and foreign motorhomes', noting that 'hired campervans' can be an issue too when it comes to these behaviours. To that end, she finds it unfair when everyone gets tarred with the same brush. 'What does annoy me is how it is always 'the campervans' that are the problem,' says Hannah. 'We pull over on the single-track roads [to let vehicles pass]. We are respectful. If we park up somewhere and see rubbish lying around, we will get out of the van and clean it up. We always leave a park-up cleaner than when we arrived.' Follow on Instagram @roamthehighlands
The National
a day ago
- The National
'Clearances' are not inevitable if the Highlands get investment
Call me strange, but I love to read the inscriptions on the gravestones of people who came and went long before I was born. I try to imagine their lives. Born 1851, died 1938 – narrowly avoiding the horrors of the Second World War. Born 1901, died 1903 – a young child, presumably leaving behind grief-stricken parents. Born 1853, died 1917 – home on leave, perhaps. So many stories. They lived and died in this patch of earth. Some of the most remarkable stories are of those who did leave home, living in other countries for decades, before returning in their latter years. READ MORE: Pioneering Gaelic TV producer Neil Fraser dies as family pay tribute There are plenty of stories of Highland policemen, or cattlemen, in the wilds of Wyoming and the mountains of Montana. Older locals still remember these (mostly) men returning with strange habits, jaw-dropping stories and a penchant for coffee so thick it was essentially syrup. Others were dispatched to the four corners of the globe during the war years. They'd never been to Inverness before the war, but during the global conflict, they saw the world. Returning to the croft, many never left again. They found solace in the mountains and never told their stories. As the generations pass on, so do the memories and the stories. And yet, what we see and know today has been shaped by every soul who came before. That is obviously seen in the ruins scattered across the Applecross peninsula and beyond. Four walls, no roof, and a green patch of ground in front that served as food and livelihood. There are many visitors who look at the landscape and see a wilderness. Preserve the environment as though it is pristine and untouched. Understandably, the scenic beauty draws thousands to visit and inspires plenty of wild swimmers and hill walkers. They are very welcome. And I totally understand the need to preserve the environment and the beauty. But the emptiness of many glens isn't to be celebrated. This wilderness isn't untamed. It's a stark warning about the vulnerability of life in the Highlands. I must confess to getting extremely worked up by the number of times I'm warned that a certain policy or government decision will lead to the next Highland clearances. If you know your history, you'd use that warning sparingly. Because vast swathes of the Highlands are uninhabited today due to a lack of housing security, economic opportunity and local control in the past. And those three issues remain the single greatest threats to the future of our communities. Don't forget the words of economists Donald Mackay and Neil Buxton, writing in 1965, the year that the Highlands and Islands Development (Scotland) Act was enacted: 'What evidence there is available suggests that there is no economic case for the development of the Highland area … the economic solution to the 'Highland Problem' is to induce the movement of labour out of, and not the movement of capital into, the area.' And yet, history also shows that vast injections of investment and industrial growth in the Highlands transformed the prospects of countless young Highlanders. One example was the growth of hydro power in the mid-20th century. Apart from anything else, the investment in hydro schemes connected communities to the power grid for the first time – some of which had no power until well into the 1960s. Tom Johnston MP's vision in 1941 was to create revival and renewal in Highland communities by expanding hydro power. He formed the North of Scotland Hydro-Electric Board, which would create several hydro schemes, supply the national grid and connect more rural communities. Within about 20 years, there were 54 power stations and 78 dams. More importantly, 90% of the Highlands was connected to the grid. READ MORE: Extreme wildfire warning issued across parts of Scotland this weekend You don't need me to tell you how transformational light and power are to any household or business. And I've done enough canvassing in the rural Highlands to see how many 'hydro homes' still stand – more than half a century later. While the oil and gas industry was headquartered further east, in Aberdeenshire, the benefits of the energy boom in the 1970s and 1980s also changed communities. In Kishorn and the surrounding villages, life changed almost overnight. These villages were haemorrhaging the youth, when work began at the Kishorn Yard to develop into a manufacturing and fabrication yard for oil platforms. By 1977, there were more than 3000 people working at the yard. For context, the Applecross Community Company estimates there are 2501 residents across the peninsula today. Consider the equivalent in Glasgow – just over the total population of a city being employed on one site. Wages massively increased. Suddenly, it was easier to buy a car and visit family. Local businesses grew. The number of hospitality and retail businesses increased. The young came home – men and women – to work at the yard. The schools swelled with the children of young families. Investment, economic opportunity and increased income. The story of what happened next would take too long. But the story of what is happening now is incredibly exciting. Last month, I announced that Highlands and Islands Enterprise (HIE) would invest £24.259 million at Kishorn Port to enhance its capacity and capabilities, with an expanded dry dock. This development could attract projects with the potential to support up to 1500 jobs once the port is fully developed. It's a part of the Scottish Government commitment of up to £500m over five years to develop the country's ports and offshore wind supply chain. In my travels across the Highlands speaking to communities, there are two common complaints. The first is why costs are so high – for everything – and the second is investing in the next generation of Highlanders. I've written before about the challenges of depopulation. With the right, targeted investments that focus on local communities and deliver tangible benefits – be that housing, infrastructure, jobs, fair wages – we can shape the future. The Highlands are beautiful, but no generation can sustain its young on scenery or beauty. It needs investment, jobs and equitable distribution of social benefits.
Scotsman
2 days ago
- Scotsman
Meet Munro, Scotland's new car company which wants to revolutionise Scottish manufacturing
Munro Series M | contributed Sign up to our Scotsman Money newsletter, covering all you need to know to help manage your money. Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... In a drab industrial estate in East Kilbride on Glasgow's southern flank, a small team of motor engineers and enthusiasts is trying to pull off a Scottish manufacturing revolution. Employees are busy assembling the Munro 'Series M', a vehicle with the rugged, boxy lines reminiscent of a 1990s Land Rover Defender. But the Munro has one crucial differentiating feature: it's powered by an electric motor. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Russell Peterson and co-founder Ross Anderson hope that current versions of the vehicle, billed as 'the ultimate, sustainable, utilitarian, off-road workhorse' will have been through sufficient testing with early customers to be ready for full production in the first quarter of 2027. This will happen at a larger facility, sites for which are being scoped out. The aim is start with 20 vehicles a month, ramping up eventually to 500 annually. If all goes to plan, the Munro will be the first vehicle manufactured at scale in Scotland since Peugeot-Talbot closed its plant at Linwood in 1981. 'It's lunacy what we're doing,' says Paterson, 'but the opportunities are massive.' The two men - Peterson a former software entrepreneur who grew up in farming in England, Anderson a radiotherapy graduate from Glasgow – spotted the opportunity for an electric off-roader when they were on a camping trip in 2018. 'We were in one of my smelly old Land Rovers and thought it would be great if this was electric. It became an obsession,' Peterson explains. Avinash Rugoobur | contributed They used their own money to start the business in 2019, with further funding two years later from Elbow Beach Capital, an early-stage investor run by former BT executive Jonathan Pollock. Four months ago, Elbow Beach received backing from British Business Bank. Perhaps surprisingly, the Munro is not aimed at wealthier punters looking for an environmentally friendly 'Chelsea tractor', although with a price tag of £49,995 the vehicle fits that bill. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Instead, the opportunity lies in mining, forestry, agriculture, emergency response and the military – sectors looking to decarbonise their fleets, yet which still need 'all-terrain vehicles' (ATVs) capable of handling rough conditions. Munros would not only be sold to mining companies but servicing could be done using mechanics either dispatched on site – similar to how US earth moving equipment maker Caterpillar operates – or could even be permanently located at remote mining locations, avoiding the need for an expensive dealer network. On the face of it, the market backdrop looks positive. According to US-based Grand View Research, the global ATV market is projected to grow at a compound annual rate of four percent from this year to 2030, by which time it ought to be worth $6 billion. Farmers are increasingly using electric quad bikes, while national parks are adopting ATVs. One Munro was recently demonstrated in Sweden to mining company LKAB, while another is being put through its paces as a recreational vehicle at Perthshire's Gleneagles Hotel. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Yet making a success of the Munro – named after Scottish mountains over 3,000 feet – will be an uphill task. It's hard enough to make a go of automotive manufacturing as it is. French carmaker Renault's shares dived this week after it lowered its annual financial guidance amid tough competition in Europe, where its recently launched R5 electric vehicle is battling cheaper models from China's BYD. Analysts have blamed US tariffs for this week's announcement by Jaguar Land Rover of 500 management layoffs, coming on top of slower sales. Peterson concedes that scaling up to capture the global mining market will be a challenge. Munro's newly appointed chairman, former General Motors executive Avinash Rugoobur, has tasked the team with coming up with a 'globalisation' strategy, which will be presented to the board next week. Supply chain resilience is another issue. While Munro's batteries are made in China, Peterson uses Glasgow-based companies to provide the steel and aluminium required. These include Richard Austin Alloys at Queenslie and Kelvin Steel in Thornliebank, while JetCut, based south of Glasgow Airport, uses lasers to cut steel for the body panels. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Munro Series M | contributed Their existence is testament to Glasgow's insufficiently recognised role as a modern industrial manufacturing hub. Yet at the same time, the Alexander Dennis bus company saga has revealed the fragility of Scotland's supply chains. Two suppliers, ADL and Greenfold Systems, face existential crises after Alexander Dennis said it would close its Falkirk and Larbert factories with the loss of 400 jobs. Meanwhile, there is also no shortage of companies making electric vehicles for mining, such as Canada's MacLean Engineering and Epiroc of Sweden, although admittedly most are currently focused on heavier duty vehicles. Competition might emerge. Finally, as with all startups, ensuring continued funding will be a constant. Munro is in the midst of a £2 million funding round that's to be 'bridge' towards larger so-called 'Series A' funding, Peterson says. The good news is that the UK government's recently announced Industrial Strategy might help. This week Jonathan Reynolds, business secretary, launched a scheme called DRIVE35, under which established automotive businesses and startups such as Munro can tap part of a total £2.5bn in funding for the development of zero-emission vehicles and supply chains.
