You don’t so much drive an Ami as much as occupy it for a period of time. It’s not complicated, and to be honest, there’s not much in the way of dynamicism to get acquainted with. Just press one of the three buttons (park, neutral, drive) on the driver’s seat base and then press either the ‘stop’ or ‘go’ pedals. There is acceleration, just not much of it, and not for very long. Top speed is a decent sprint for a runner, although given that the average inner-city commuting speed  - according to government statistics - is 11.4mph, a sub-30mph top end isn’t a problem for what the Ami is designed for.

With that in mind, the brakes work and the suspension.. exists. That’s pretty much it. If you decide to attack a sleeping policeperson at ‘speed’, you’ll find out that the damping is at best rudimentary, the hard seat pad not kind to your spine. There are no modes, sporting or otherwise. The handling is pretty much the same, in that the steering is so slow that you’d have to make far too much effort to get the Ami to behave anything other than utterly predictably to make it worth it. Those 155-section tyres don’t so much provide absolute grip as light friction, so the worst that’ll happen is graceful understeer - even on diesel-infused urban roundabouts. And yet, after accepting that the Ami is to driving what Ken Loach is to children’s television, there’s amusement to be had. No, you can’t lane-split like you would on a bike or scooter, but the Ami can squeeze into gaps that a proper car simply couldn’t, park in places that aren’t places. And when you do, people don’t hate you. It’s not fun to drive, just fun to use.

What is quite interesting is that although the Ami has a limited range from that tiny battery, it will pretty much do what it says it will do in terms of miles - unlike a lot of proper EV vehicles that have to deal with parasitic losses from multiple home comforts. A 10-mile cross-London commute? Easy. Even if it takes you a couple of hours, you’ll still only use 10-12 miles of range.