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What's the difference?
Over the past 12 months, some of the most significant names in camper-trailers have fallen victim to their own success. Ultimate Campers, one of the most interesting and (previously) desirable camping products was placed in voluntary administration and bailed out, while Kimberley Kampers, always the pinnacle of off-road camper design, still has a very uncertain future, if one at all.
But amongst all that, here is Patriot Campers, an Aussie company essentially building $40,000 to $60,000 soft-floor camper-trailers and flourishing where others are failing.
So what’s so good about them, and are they really worth all that money?
Renault chairman and CEO Carlos Ghosn may look like a Bond villain, but rather than threatening to end the world he's intent on saving it.
In October last year he launched Groupe Renault's 'Drive the Future 2022' strategic plan, which included a commitment to "eight pure electric and 12 electrified models as part of the [Renault] range" within five years.
But he didn't mention the head start, because Renault already had several pure electric vehicles in its line-up at that point, including the subject of this review.
In fact, the Renault Zoe has been on sale in France since 2012, and stands as Europe's best-selling electric vehicle.
In late 2017, Renault Australia dipped its toe in the electrified waters (risky...) by bringing the Zoe here within a "business-to-business and business-to-government framework."
And in July this year, due to allegedly popular demand, it was made available to private buyers through "selected dealerships"; currently two in Melbourne, and one each in Sydney, Adelaide, Perth and Brisbane.
Just under $50,000 for a city-sized hatch is hardly cheap, but it's entry-level territory for electric vehicles in this market. And what price can you put on helping to save civilisation as we know it?
Let's find out.
The Patriot X1 GT is an expensive camper-trailer but there’s very little on the market with such attention to detail, such well-thought design and such practical features.
There’s almost nothing like it, which means, to some extent, as long as people keep buying them, the price, beginning at $52,990, is right on the money. I’d buy one, if I could afford it.
Of course, there is the standard X1, at around $46,000, which pares back the features a little to bring the price down.
The Renault Zoe is a fun to drive, ultra-efficient, practical little hatch. But the dollar-shaped elephant in the room is its price. Without the government ZEV subsidies offered in other markets, it's wickedly expensive, and with fresh competition in the shape of a new 'normalised' Nissan Leaf coming soon it'll have to work hard to wean more than a handful of small-car buyers off their fossil-fuel addiction.
Once the tent’s set up, the living space is quite clever. So that the bed and tent base doesn’t hang over the sides of the trailer when packed up, and so it can fit a king-sized bed anyway, the bed folds in the middle. Patriot has also developed (and patented) a staircase up to the bed, rather than a ladder, which makes the climb up and down far less daunting.
A zippered cut-out in the tent wall provides access to the two-large storage area in the driver’s side of the camper, which is where you’d keep clothes, charge phones and maybe store a second fridge or Porta-Potti.
If you’re travelling with kids, the zip-on kids’ room (pictured) is easy to set up, can be left attached to the tent while packed up and has enough room for two to three stretchers across the floor (depending on which stretchers you use). Another bed can be laid out under the master bed’s overhang.
Like most compact hatches the Zoe offers plenty of space up front and gets a bit squeezy in the back. Although the first surprise is that there's no height adjustment for either front seat.
Happily that wasn't a big issue. At 183cm I was still able to find a good driving position, with storage running to two cupholders (one small, one laughably tiny), plus a pen slot and two oddments trays in the centre console. The second of those trays houses a 12-volt outlet, SD card slot, 'aux-in' jack and USB port.
There are small bottleholders and storage pockets in each front door, a medium-size (7.0-litre) glove box with an open tray above it, and a small tray on the lower part of the dash on the driver's side.
Rear head and legroom is passable for a car of this size, but storage is limited to modest door bins and a single cupholder at the back of the centre console.
However, it's cargo space where the Zoe really raises eyebrows, with 338 litres available (to the parcel shelf) with the single piece rear seatback (as in, it doesn't split-fold) upright.
That's enough to easily swallow our three-piece hard suitcase set (35, 68 and 105 litres), or the CarsGuide pram. In fact, we were able to fit the largest suitcase and the pram at the same time, which is mighty impressive for a city-sized hatch. Push the rear seat flat and space grows to 1225 litres (to the roof), which is heaps.
Carpeting for the boot has been sourced from the cheap 'n' cheerful bin, but there are D-shaped anchor shackles, decent lighting and handy bag hooks back there.
The boot's unlikely volume is partly due to the absence of a spare of any description, a repair/inflator kit being your only option. And in case you were wondering, towing is "prohibited" (Renault's word, not mine).
As compact as the camper is, it’s not a drama to tow. Underneath the camper is the Cruisemaster suspension that Patriot helped develop and which is exclusively available on Patriot campers and products. That’s quite significant, as others have tried that with Cruisemaster, but have usually ended up developing their own. It’s a dual shock, air-bag set-up that’s completely adjustable, whether that’s for extra clearance or to level out the camper at camp.
Some believe cars have a soul, but the Renault Zoe expresses its feelings with a distinctive accent, the car's 'Z.E. Voice' function giving an audible warning to pedestrians up to 30km/h (when wind and tyre noise take over).
The whirring hum sounds like The Beach Boys warming up the theremin for a rendition of 'Good Vibrations'. Spooky and fun in equal measure.
Like all electric cars the Renault Zoe accelerates quickly from rest, thanks to the motor's ability to deliver maximum torque (225kW) from step off.
At 1480kg (battery 305kg) the Zoe is 177kg lighter than an equivalent Clio, so it's snappy in its natural city habitat, but thrust begins to taper off markedly around the 55-60km/h mark.
The single-speed, reduction gear automatic transmission combines with the motor's sewing-machine smoothness to provide close to perfect drive delivery.
Sitting on the same 'B platform' as the Clio (and 20 other Renault–Nissan–Mitsubishi Alliance models) the Zoe features a strut front, beam rear suspension set-up.
Ride comfort is surprisingly good for such a small hatch, and the battery's location under the floor sets up a centre of gravity 35mm lower than the Clio's, so despite a 59 per cent front/41 per cent rear weight distribution, the car feels well planted in corners.
...the dash graphic – a blue AA-style battery surrounded by rising rings of energy – is reminiscent of 'the machine man' animating in Fritz Lang's Metropolis.
The standard 16-inch alloy wheels are shod with Michelin Energy E-V low-rolling-resistance tyres (195/55), which won't win you pole on a qualifying lap, but are commendably quiet.
There are three driving modes, with the dash graphics aligning to each – Eco (green), Neutral (blue), and Dynamic (violet).
But ECO mode should be reserved for hardcore environmental warriors only. Press the console-mounted button and power from the motor is reduced and air-con output is limited.
It may increase range by a claimed 10 per cent, but what price your sanity? This setting sucks out the car's will to live, and thankfully a second press of the button or pinning the throttle pedal to the floor sees full-strength service resumed. Phew.
The regenerative deceleration and braking system distributes braking force between the clamping of the brake pads and the engine on over-run to maximise battery charge.
While the BMW i3's regen system will have you head-butting the steering wheel (not really) when you get off the throttle, the Zoe's system is more subtle, and watching the dash graphic – a blue AA-style battery surrounded by rising rings of energy – is reminiscent of 'the machine man' animating in Fritz Lang's Metropolis.
Speaking of brakes, the fronts are relatively delicate 258mm vented discs and the 9.0-inch rear drums look like miniature versions of the elaborately fluted units found on 1920s Grand Prix racers. They're beautiful and work well.
Some niggles. The wipers skip and stutter in light rain, the lightweight doors feel clangy when you close them, and the R-Link multimedia system is annoyingly flaky when recognising content (or not) via Bluetooth or USB from a mobile device.