Motorsport. The word itself conjures the smell of petrol, the glint of spanners, and the sight of stripped-down machines surrounded by crews in overalls. It’s an arena of speed and spectacle, from the marble-polished glamour of Monaco to the gritty thrill of gravel-spraying rally cars tearing through damp forests. At its extremes, it is visceral, loud, and mechanical—a theatre of raw performance.
But it’s not really for me. I imagine it takes years to hone the skills, and besides, most forms of motorsport demand a second mortgage. Better to spectate than compete, surely?
So, when Charlotte Mackenzie from Motorsport UK contacted me with an offer to take part in an international FIA-backed rally, I naturally assumed she’d mistaken me for someone competent.
However, as it turns out, there’s a new kind of motorsport emerging on the world stage. One without exhaust fumes, where precision and finesse matter more than horsepower. Finesse I could perhaps manage—provided it didn’t involve drifting round hairpins in a dust cloud at silly speeds.
Welcome to the Bridgestone FIA Eco Rally Cup: a global 14-round championship for electric vehicles.
EcoRally Scotland was the eighth round of the series, promising something quite different – a 320-mile tour, over two days, through some of Scotland’s most spectacular scenery. No racing helmets. No stripped-out cars. No advanced driving wizardry required. Here, refinement is everything. It was also where I would finally break my motorsport duck – if I could persuade my motorsport-sceptic wife, Kaye, to navigate.
The FIA’s vision for the Eco Rally Cup is ambitious: a competition that’s environmentally responsible, financially accessible, and inclusive. Professionals and amateurs compete on equal terms, and even complete novices are welcomed. The format is deceptively simple: instead of flat-out speed, this is a Regularity Rally. The aim is to maintain an average speed with near-perfect precision—down to fractions of a second—while using the least possible energy (a principle I try to apply to life generally, as Kaye will happily testify).
Because the event takes place on public roads, respecting speed limits, it becomes a test of patience, calculation, and judgement—all from the comfort of your own road car.
For me, the prospect was as much about the setting as the competition: sweeping roads through lowland hills, Lochside routes, and historic castles. Two days exploring my adopted home, discovering new places, and meeting competitors from across Europe sounded irresistible.
Our mount for the weekend was the Alpine A290 GTS—an all-electric hot hatch with French design flair and crisp driving dynamics. Based on the new Renault 5 E-Tech EV, it has the same cutesy charm, but with attitude. Just look at those X-shaped driving lamps. In deep metallic blue, it looked every inch the modern sporting machine, drawing more admiring glances than anything else in the field.
Twenty-one teams from eight nations had gathered, including reigning world champions and seasoned rally veterans. Machinery ranged from the mighty Audi Q6 e-tron to the tiny Hyundai Inster.
As tradition dictates, proceedings began with scrutineering. Cars were checked for compliance and fitted with monitoring equipment to log timing and energy use. It was also time to apply our rally decals – a first for us.
Fifteen minutes later, we had our names in the rear windows and number 205 on the doors, though we completely missed the smaller decals included in the pack. Lesson learned.
Next came the ceremonial start, complete with lone bagpiper and speeches from organisers and competitors. British Touring Car legend Gordon Shedden even offered words of encouragement. Unfortunately, because our car was the last to be scrutineered – and thanks to a problem locating the OBD port for the monitoring kit – we missed our start slot. Instead, we sloped off unceremoniously to the Parc Fermé at Dundee’s Michelin Innovation Park.
Once our car was fully charged and left safe and snug, we headed to our base for the weekend, which was the Four Points Flex by Sheraton Dundee. Shared with many other competitors, marshals, and organisers, the hotel is located overlooking the river.
We were delighted to see that our generous room had floor-to-ceiling windows which overlooked the shimmering River Tay, the striking V&A Dundee, and the historic masts of RRS Discovery. In the evening light, the city glowed, while the hotel’s calm atmosphere was the perfect counterpoint to pre-rally nerves.
Day one began at 8 a.m., sending us south from Dundee through Clackmannanshire and into Fife. Negotiating tight city streets tested us as first-timers, but once in the open we began to find our rhythm. The route wound past rolling fields, the Carse of Gowrie, and the towers of Fingask Castle, before narrowing to single-track lanes edged by stone walls and wildflowers.
By midday we reached Knockhill Racing Circuit, Scotland’s national motorsport centre. Lunch awaited—but first, the rally’s only outright speed section: two laps of the off-road track. The Alpine came alive, gravel spraying in all directions. Inside, pens, calculators, and notebooks went airborne as we were caught unprepared. In the chaos, we managed just one lap instead of the required two—but it did mean a longer lunch.
Day two was nothing short of a love letter to Scotland. Loch Tay’s mirror-like waters, the panoramic sweep of Queen’s View over Loch Tummel, the winding solitude of Glen Quaich and Glen Lyon—each road offered both driving joy and cinematic beauty. Weather added its own theatre: golden sunlight one moment, soft mist the next.
In the cockpit, Kaye’s calm, precise navigation kept us steady, translating “tulip” diagrams into clear instructions. My job was to keep the pace exact while conserving energy. It became a partnership built on trust and good humour. Unlike some teams, we made it through two days without a single cross word.
One delightful surprise was the spectators. Families and individuals lined the route, waving as we passed. In such rural areas it was unexpected, but time and again we’d come across groups—young and old—cheering us on. Thanks to the event’s relaxed pace, we even had time to wave back.
Other road users, meanwhile, were less predictable. Some panicked, swerving into passing places to let us by, while others suddenly sped up as if channeling Colin McRae. Ironically, if they’d simply carried on normally, they’d have quickly left us behind—such is the peculiar nature of Regularity Rallying.
Our biggest struggle was with the tech. Rally apps designed to help us only caused frustration. In the end we abandoned them and concentrated on enjoying the drive, “winging it” instead of obsessing over timing. Entirely our own fault, of course—we should have learned the system beforehand. Next time, we will.
We finished second from last, but the prizegiving in Dundee celebrated more than just winners. It was about shared spirit, innovation, and sustainable competition. As expected, the Czech pairing of Michal Z’Darsky and Jakub Nabelek claimed overall victory, adding to their already impressive tally.
What Kaye and I brought home was more enduring than trophies: the discovery of a motorsport that is modern, affordable, and inclusive. For under £1,000—including entry and licences—you can compete in an FIA-sanctioned international event alongside world champions. A sport where the thrill lies not in dangerous speeds or risky overtakes, but in driving with elegance, efficiency, and purpose against a backdrop of breathtaking scenery.
We’ll be back.
Photos: Lee Fisher