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Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover?

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Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover? | Top Gear

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Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover?

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Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover?

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If you’ve ever had to pop into the office on a Saturday morning, or bunked off the school disco and gone exploring the dark corridors after hours, you’ll remember that weirdly invigorating sense of being somewhere that should be hustling, bustling, noisy and alive when it’s empty. A little bit eerie, yet slightly thrilling.

That’s what I was expecting from out of season Ibiza. Desolate beauty. The superclubs have all held their closing parties, the DJs have boarded their private jets, and the hotels are commencing Operation Fumigate. For six months, this rock in the Balearic Sea hibernates. Nobody throws their hands up in the air.

Apart from me. We’d aimed to drive onto Ibiza Town’s bougie marina, park alongside the yachts, and photograph the chunkily handsome Kia EV9 looking all upmarket ’n’ that. But we can’t, because this place is absolutely chocker. Impatient taxis and scurrying mopeds beep angrily at my every stop sign hesitation. Traffic police, barriers and bollards block our route to the riviera. Tourists mooch along the boulevards oblivious to the enormous silent SUV sidling away from the dockside. The clubbers have departed, but Ibiza isn’t on a comedown. It’s heaving.

Photography: John Wycherley

I haven’t been here since I was 17. Yes, one of those end of A-levels holidays as depicted in The Inbetweeners, with a less happy ending. I was seriously out of my depth, and not just in the sense of being a poor swimmer. This entire island was mentally filed under ‘drink too much, sleep too little, sunburn and bankruptcy’.

What word association does ‘Kia’ provoke in you? ‘Warranty’, ‘Not bad these days actually’. But probably not ‘Range Rover Sport rival’. Yet the EV9 is a step ahead of Land Rover, not to mention BMW, Audi and Porsche. None of the above have yet entrusted seven seat luxury SUV duties to a pure EV. In fact the only battery powered seven seat cars currently available in the UK are the Mercedes EQB (bit cramped), the Citroen Berlingo (good, but needs twice the range) and the Heathrow pod at rush hour. Only joking. That’s invariably broken.

The EV9 is (literally) a huge display of confidence from Kia. Confidence in its design: this is an absolute unit standing five metres long and two metres across – the biggest Kia ever – and confidence in how it’s now perceived. When sales kick off in January 2024 prices will start at £73,245. There’ll be a rear-wheel drive appetiser with a bit less kit in the summer for about £65k, and yes, compared with the nigh-on six-figures Volvo’s set to ask in return for the EX90, that’s a lot of car for the money. But seventy-five grand. For a Kia. Really?

In the three decades it’s taken for the Koreans to conquer the hearts and minds of the British buying public, there have been a few landmark cars. Hyundai Getz: the first creditable supermini. The Kia Ceed put the wind up the Astra. And the MkIII Sportage looked better than the competition. Now they’ve lost the element of surprise, but the hits keep coming: Ioniq 5, EV6 and the N division, following noble experimental failures like the Veloster and Stinger. The EV9 ambitiously punts Kia into an entirely new ballpark, vowing to bury old perceptions and conserve the planet’s resources along the way.

That’s why I brought it to Ibiza. See, some of the islanders have spent the past decade stubbornly resisting being typecast as a vomit flecked party pit. Local authorities experimented with grants for hoteliers looking to build accommodation (so long as it was five stars or higher). They’ve clamped down on noise limits at the beach clubs. Bora Bora’s gone entirely. Privilege, the world’s biggest nightclub, never reopened after lockdown. Instead of cashing in on ever bigger rave venues, Ibiza’s concentrating on schemes to capture rainwater (banishing the bottled stuff), eradicating landfill and protecting the habitat of local hedgehogs.

And naturally, nurturing EVs. Ibiza’s 50,000 inhabitants currently enjoy twice as many chargers per head as we have to squabble over in Britain... though when the first three we visit are vandalised and out of order, it does dim the afterglow of the White Isle’s green credentials. Happily we discover a 100kW outlet with 20 per cent charge left in the EV9’s reserves and soon electricity is flowing into its 100kWh battery like sambuca into a sunbather.

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Topped up, the EV9 proffers 292 miles of range – not a bad return on its official claim of 318 and respectable for a twin-motored block of flats. Indulge in the Civic Type R-matching 0–62mph sprint a few times and you’ll decimate that, but passengers will protest before the battery does. Why there’s a 600+bhp EV9 GT en route is anyone’s guess.

This is not a performance car, despite being alarmingly swift. The steering’s detached and springy, except in Sport mode where it becomes so elasticated I had to check there’s a steering column made of metal in there somewhere, not drive by wire nonsense. The EV9 makes no active anti-roll bar efforts to counter pleasure cruiser body roll, and the cyberpunk soundtrack piped in as you squeeze the accelerator isn’t loud enough to drown out the tyres squealing at modest speeds. This is a 2.7 tonne beast and you’re acutely aware of it.

But if you only use 38 horsepower, instead of 380, it’s quite pleasant. Peaceful, isolated and protective somehow. Over a big hump you’ll sense the EV9’s huge bulk taking an extra bounce before settling back into its relaxed, loping gait, but the 21-inch wheels don’t clatter into potholes as loudly as a Range Rover’s.

It also stops reassuringly. Kia’s regen braking is very well sorted and easily adjusted through four levels of harvesting power with the paddles behind the steering wheel. It’s not a G-Wagen-ish commanding driving position, and the tall bonnet line will make placing the car a challenge in your average British market town. But this is a global Kia. It’ll feel like a pipsqueak in California.

Clearly mindful of fitting this enormous square peg into England’s quaint round hole, the EV9 contains the proverbial kitchen sinkful of driver aids. Some, like the matronly lane keep ‘assist’ are easy enough to pacify, with a button on the wheel. Others, like the driver attention monitor – which beeps crossly when you look both ways at a junction, or the speed limit assist, which merrily chirps away if you’re 1mph over the last speed limit sign it detected – require a tedious voyage into the touchscreen.

The prog rock xylophone solo is a pity, because the EV9’s interior is a tremendous place to travel. That’s chiefly down to the seats. This £77k GT-Line S model stiffs the three-wide middle row and goes for the full bizness jet experience, featuring four reclining armchairs with built-in foot rest squabs. The perforated headrests cradle your head like a pillow. A quick charging nap just became an appealing option.

This is a genuine seven (in this case six) seater: room for two adults in the rearmost row and each occupant has their full gamut of USB sockets and stowage pockets. As usual for a three row SUV, the gap to climb through into the back seats is tight even with the seat motored out of the way, but if you wanted a practical people carrier, you buy a low floor, sliding door minivan. Which no one does anymore. Remember the Kia Sedona? Carens? Exactly.

But it’s not the pace, space, peace or tech that’s the EV9’s strongest hand. It’s what it’s made from. Like Polestar and its wholesale lifetime emissions register, Kia’s figured out there’s very little point in eradicating tailpipe emissions if building the car in the first place is as Attenborough-friendly as a Brazilian beef ranch.

So, the interior is fashioned from clever bits and pieces. Those cushioned headrests? A ‘biopolyurethane’ plant fibres foam party. There’s no leather in here whatsoever. The dashboard, centre console and pillar trim use plastics sourced from corn extract, sugar cane and sawdust rather than oil. The headliner and sun visors employ recycled fabrics, with the floor carpets following Fiat’s lead in repurposing castaway fishing nets. Better stuffed with your kids’ crumbs than throttling a dolphin, eh?

Paint has been formulated using fewer of those scary sounding concoctions that sound like the ingredients for industrial bleach, and the stitching holding everything else together was once a plastic drinks bottle. So was the soundproofing.

I appreciate there’s a disconnect here: a cabin crafted from ocean waste resting on a half tonne of lithium, copper and rare earth metals. Meanwhile the likes of Bentley and Rolls-Royce are quick to argue their luxuriant hides come from cattle already earmarked for steak tartare, so they’re tidying up a waste product. Let’s not inflame the culture wars here. This is a vegetarian interior, but it looks right, smells right, cossets your backside and ought to wipe clean.

“Maybe not with white upholstery,” points out John the photographer, who’s otherwise impressed with how sturdy everything feels. And his opinion counts because he has raised children. I’ve been a bit busy nitpicking cars, which is why I’m a tad unimpressed such a gargantuan bonnet only conceals a tiny froot which just about swallows the charging lead.

But I like the EV9. I like its relaxed attitude and breezy, surfin’ USA demeanour. I like the ‘nothing to prove’ reverse snobbery of its badge and that you don’t feel compelled to live up to the reputation of a BMW X6 driver. I like that once you’ve deactivated the robo-Doubtfire, it’s less irritating to operate than a VW ID.Buzz, and travels significantly further on a charge. I like its Bentayga-esque massaging, heated, ventilated seats, its multitude of stowage cubbies, the simplicity of its automatic seat folding, and how it looks like a cross between a Ford Flex, a Volvo XC90 and Iron Man’s head.

It’s one of the most interesting cars not because of what it can do, but because of what it represents. Twinning going green and upmarket. The Koreans aren’t content with being cheap, cheerful underdogs. And they’re not waiting for the Chinese to get their act together either.

You might snort at the notion of a 70 grand Kia, but you’d probably have ridiculed the idea of wanting one at all not particularly long ago. About as likely as finding serenity on the world’s most infamous party island. Join the club.

# data.attributes.body.processed
If you’ve ever had to pop into the office on a Saturday morning, or bunked off the school disco and gone exploring the dark corridors after hours, you’ll remember that weirdly invigorating sense of being somewhere that should be hustling, bustling, noisy and alive when it’s empty. A little bit eerie, yet slightly thrilling.

That’s what I was expecting from out of season Ibiza. Desolate beauty. The superclubs have all held their closing parties, the DJs have boarded their private jets, and the hotels are commencing Operation Fumigate. For six months, this rock in the Balearic Sea hibernates. Nobody throws their hands up in the air.

Apart from me. We’d aimed to drive onto Ibiza Town’s bougie marina, park alongside the yachts, and photograph the chunkily handsome Kia EV9 looking all upmarket ’n’ that. But we can’t, because this place is absolutely chocker. Impatient taxis and scurrying mopeds beep angrily at my every stop sign hesitation. Traffic police, barriers and bollards block our route to the riviera. Tourists mooch along the boulevards oblivious to the enormous silent SUV sidling away from the dockside. The clubbers have departed, but Ibiza isn’t on a comedown. It’s heaving.

Photography: John Wycherley

I haven’t been here since I was 17. Yes, one of those end of A-levels holidays as depicted in The Inbetweeners, with a less happy ending. I was seriously out of my depth, and not just in the sense of being a poor swimmer. This entire island was mentally filed under ‘drink too much, sleep too little, sunburn and bankruptcy’.

What word association does ‘Kia’ provoke in you? ‘Warranty’, ‘Not bad these days actually’. But probably not ‘Range Rover Sport rival’. Yet the EV9 is a step ahead of Land Rover, not to mention BMW, Audi and Porsche. None of the above have yet entrusted seven seat luxury SUV duties to a pure EV. In fact the only battery powered seven seat cars currently available in the UK are the Mercedes EQB (bit cramped), the Citroen Berlingo (good, but needs twice the range) and the Heathrow pod at rush hour. Only joking. That’s invariably broken.

The EV9 is (literally) a huge display of confidence from Kia. Confidence in its design: this is an absolute unit standing five metres long and two metres across – the biggest Kia ever – and confidence in how it’s now perceived. When sales kick off in January 2024 prices will start at £73,245. There’ll be a rear-wheel drive appetiser with a bit less kit in the summer for about £65k, and yes, compared with the nigh-on six-figures Volvo’s set to ask in return for the EX90, that’s a lot of car for the money. But seventy-five grand. For a Kia. Really?

In the three decades it’s taken for the Koreans to conquer the hearts and minds of the British buying public, there have been a few landmark cars. Hyundai Getz: the first creditable supermini. The Kia Ceed put the wind up the Astra. And the MkIII Sportage looked better than the competition. Now they’ve lost the element of surprise, but the hits keep coming: Ioniq 5, EV6 and the N division, following noble experimental failures like the Veloster and Stinger. The EV9 ambitiously punts Kia into an entirely new ballpark, vowing to bury old perceptions and conserve the planet’s resources along the way.

That’s why I brought it to Ibiza. See, some of the islanders have spent the past decade stubbornly resisting being typecast as a vomit flecked party pit. Local authorities experimented with grants for hoteliers looking to build accommodation (so long as it was five stars or higher). They’ve clamped down on noise limits at the beach clubs. Bora Bora’s gone entirely. Privilege, the world’s biggest nightclub, never reopened after lockdown. Instead of cashing in on ever bigger rave venues, Ibiza’s concentrating on schemes to capture rainwater (banishing the bottled stuff), eradicating landfill and protecting the habitat of local hedgehogs.

And naturally, nurturing EVs. Ibiza’s 50,000 inhabitants currently enjoy twice as many chargers per head as we have to squabble over in Britain... though when the first three we visit are vandalised and out of order, it does dim the afterglow of the White Isle’s green credentials. Happily we discover a 100kW outlet with 20 per cent charge left in the EV9’s reserves and soon electricity is flowing into its 100kWh battery like sambuca into a sunbather.

Topped up, the EV9 proffers 292 miles of range – not a bad return on its official claim of 318 and respectable for a twin-motored block of flats. Indulge in the Civic Type R-matching 0–62mph sprint a few times and you’ll decimate that, but passengers will protest before the battery does. Why there’s a 600+bhp EV9 GT en route is anyone’s guess.

This is not a performance car, despite being alarmingly swift. The steering’s detached and springy, except in Sport mode where it becomes so elasticated I had to check there’s a steering column made of metal in there somewhere, not drive by wire nonsense. The EV9 makes no active anti-roll bar efforts to counter pleasure cruiser body roll, and the cyberpunk soundtrack piped in as you squeeze the accelerator isn’t loud enough to drown out the tyres squealing at modest speeds. This is a 2.7 tonne beast and you’re acutely aware of it.

But if you only use 38 horsepower, instead of 380, it’s quite pleasant. Peaceful, isolated and protective somehow. Over a big hump you’ll sense the EV9’s huge bulk taking an extra bounce before settling back into its relaxed, loping gait, but the 21-inch wheels don’t clatter into potholes as loudly as a Range Rover’s.

It also stops reassuringly. Kia’s regen braking is very well sorted and easily adjusted through four levels of harvesting power with the paddles behind the steering wheel. It’s not a G-Wagen-ish commanding driving position, and the tall bonnet line will make placing the car a challenge in your average British market town. But this is a global Kia. It’ll feel like a pipsqueak in California.

Clearly mindful of fitting this enormous square peg into England’s quaint round hole, the EV9 contains the proverbial kitchen sinkful of driver aids. Some, like the matronly lane keep ‘assist’ are easy enough to pacify, with a button on the wheel. Others, like the driver attention monitor – which beeps crossly when you look both ways at a junction, or the speed limit assist, which merrily chirps away if you’re 1mph over the last speed limit sign it detected – require a tedious voyage into the touchscreen.

The prog rock xylophone solo is a pity, because the EV9’s interior is a tremendous place to travel. That’s chiefly down to the seats. This £77k GT-Line S model stiffs the three-wide middle row and goes for the full bizness jet experience, featuring four reclining armchairs with built-in foot rest squabs. The perforated headrests cradle your head like a pillow. A quick charging nap just became an appealing option.

This is a genuine seven (in this case six) seater: room for two adults in the rearmost row and each occupant has their full gamut of USB sockets and stowage pockets. As usual for a three row SUV, the gap to climb through into the back seats is tight even with the seat motored out of the way, but if you wanted a practical people carrier, you buy a low floor, sliding door minivan. Which no one does anymore. Remember the Kia Sedona? Carens? Exactly.

But it’s not the pace, space, peace or tech that’s the EV9’s strongest hand. It’s what it’s made from. Like Polestar and its wholesale lifetime emissions register, Kia’s figured out there’s very little point in eradicating tailpipe emissions if building the car in the first place is as Attenborough-friendly as a Brazilian beef ranch.

So, the interior is fashioned from clever bits and pieces. Those cushioned headrests? A ‘biopolyurethane’ plant fibres foam party. There’s no leather in here whatsoever. The dashboard, centre console and pillar trim use plastics sourced from corn extract, sugar cane and sawdust rather than oil. The headliner and sun visors employ recycled fabrics, with the floor carpets following Fiat’s lead in repurposing castaway fishing nets. Better stuffed with your kids’ crumbs than throttling a dolphin, eh?

Paint has been formulated using fewer of those scary sounding concoctions that sound like the ingredients for industrial bleach, and the stitching holding everything else together was once a plastic drinks bottle. So was the soundproofing.

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I appreciate there’s a disconnect here: a cabin crafted from ocean waste resting on a half tonne of lithium, copper and rare earth metals. Meanwhile the likes of Bentley and Rolls-Royce are quick to argue their luxuriant hides come from cattle already earmarked for steak tartare, so they’re tidying up a waste product. Let’s not inflame the culture wars here. This is a vegetarian interior, but it looks right, smells right, cossets your backside and ought to wipe clean.

“Maybe not with white upholstery,” points out John the photographer, who’s otherwise impressed with how sturdy everything feels. And his opinion counts because he has raised children. I’ve been a bit busy nitpicking cars, which is why I’m a tad unimpressed such a gargantuan bonnet only conceals a tiny froot which just about swallows the charging lead.

But I like the EV9. I like its relaxed attitude and breezy, surfin’ USA demeanour. I like the ‘nothing to prove’ reverse snobbery of its badge and that you don’t feel compelled to live up to the reputation of a BMW X6 driver. I like that once you’ve deactivated the robo-Doubtfire, it’s less irritating to operate than a VW ID.Buzz, and travels significantly further on a charge. I like its Bentayga-esque massaging, heated, ventilated seats, its multitude of stowage cubbies, the simplicity of its automatic seat folding, and how it looks like a cross between a Ford Flex, a Volvo XC90 and Iron Man’s head.

It’s one of the most interesting cars not because of what it can do, but because of what it represents. Twinning going green and upmarket. The Koreans aren’t content with being cheap, cheerful underdogs. And they’re not waiting for the Chinese to get their act together either.

You might snort at the notion of a 70 grand Kia, but you’d probably have ridiculed the idea of wanting one at all not particularly long ago. About as likely as finding serenity on the world’s most infamous party island. Join the club.

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Going upmarket and green all at the same time. It’s a tricky balance, but if it can be done with an entire island, what about a car?

# data.relationships.field_big_read_header_image.data.meta.alt
Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover?

# data.relationships.field_big_read_header_image_sm.data.meta.alt
Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover?

# data.relationships.field_image.data.meta.alt
Across Ibiza in the Kia EV9: is this seven-seat EV a step ahead of Land Rover?