Jaecoo 7 SHS - long-term review

I do not live halfway up a large mountain. I live in Hertfordshire, which is sadly lacking in mountains, large or otherwise.

But if I did live halfway up a large mountain, I reckon I’d get myself a plug-in hybrid. A holiday to the French Alps allows the Jaecoo to demonstrate perhaps its most impressive party trick: recouping a huge amount of energy through regenerative braking on long downhills. Pretty much every mile of descent boosts the 7’s EV range read-out by a mile, though admittedly those promised miles become a bit shorter when you have to make the journey back uphill.

Even so, once you’ve harvested a quarter-of-a-battery of bonus range descending a long mountain pass, I fear it’d feel wasteful to go back to regular brakes, frittering away all that potential free energy in heat and friction. Pottering around the mountains – and despite not charging the battery from the mains – the 7 proves extraordinarily efficient.

Of course a full EV could pull the same trick, but then a full EV won’t get you three-quarters of the way across France before needing a top-up.

Because, beyond its gravity-harvesting capabilities, the Jaecoo proves a good thing for a big family road trip. Space for humans is, by class standards, excellent. In this hybrid version, bootspace isn’t quite so stellar, though a whole lot better once you remove the false floor and jam your holiday bits into the many crevices that lurk below.

Even with a trio of bikes on the roof, it’s quiet and refined at autoroute speeds. Or at least it is when you get your hybrid settings correct. If the 7’s battery runs down close to zero – which it’ll do automatically unless you tell it to hold its charge – the petrol motor starts doing ugly, noisy things at autoroute speeds, blaring and slurring like an old-school CVT.

But order the 7 to retain a decent bit of charge, and it slips along smoothly even at 130kmh, the ICE running quietly to top up the battery. This PHEV is at its happiest impersonating an EV.

However. Driving in France does highlight an issue with the Jaecoo: all of a sudden, it rides far, far better. Such is the joy of buttery-smooth continental tarmac. (Seriously, how can the French brew asphalt that survives -20* winters and 40*C summers without issue, whereas our tarmac falls to pieces at the first sign of a light frost?)

Because no, on our uniquely undulating British blacktop, the 7 does not ride well. Potholes and expansion joints send a clang through the cabin, the car struggling to settle on cambered or rough roads. It’s not wallowy, just a bit… thumpy. Unbearable? No. Uncomfortable? Yes, especially for those in the back.

This is a shame. The nervy ride quality lends a cheap feeling to a car that, in most other regards, feels more expensive than it is. Jaecoo says UK 7s get a retuned suspension set-up compared to Chinese-market cars. I would suggest they need to revise this set-up.

Or, y’know, everyone in Britain with a Jaecoo 7 simply moves to the Alps instead, and embraces the joy of smooth tarmac and gravity-powered recharging. You know it makes sense.