Is going fully electric actually hard? We tested the Toyota bZ4X

I drive a 1998 Toyota RAV4. Not ironically, not as a project car, not because I'm waiting for something better. I drive it because it starts every morning, and it's a reliable constant in my busy life as an editor on the go.

That's the basis of trust in a brand—whatever you choose, it's on your side, which is what people miss about going electric. It gets framed as a leap, a decision that demands extensive homework, when Toyota has built a path for every kind of driver: Hybrid, Plug-in Hybrid or full Battery Electric. There's no single right way to do it: just the version that fits your life, and the reassurance that it's still a Toyota underneath. The bZ4X is the fully electric end of that range, and going in, I had the usual questions. Would it fit an ordinary Auckland day? Would I spend it thinking about charging? Could I still drive the city scouring all of my favourite places to eat?
The first thing you notice is what you don't. The bZ4X moves off in near silence, and on the way to Oat Bros in Grey Lynn—a neighbourhood corner doing a serious Doris plum porridge—the only sound is the indicator ticking, and my Spotify-connected playlist. Here, I fuelled up for the day while the car, pointedly, did not need to. Its 74.7kWh battery goes up to 517km on a charge—a week of my driving, commutes, shoots and supermarket runs, on one overnight plug-in at home.
Before heading across town to Rhu in Parnell for a late lunch of the signature salmon rillette toast, and an essential side order of the fried chicken sandwich—IYKYK—editor duties called. The floating centre console leaves a deep tray below for a bag, with dual wireless charging pads above. In the back, a low lip and wide opening took the samples and bags without the usual Tetris.
Back on the road and over the bridge for an afternoon pick-me-up at Agnès. The 14-inch touchscreen keeps the dash uncluttered, while the driver display sits high and forward, read over the wheel at eye level, so speed, range and directions never take your eyes off the road. A busy village strip at lunchtime is the real parking test, but one that the park assist handles. I confirmed the space on screen, and the bZ4X took over, working the wheel and pedals into place while the camera views played out in front of me. A far cry from my usual neck-craning, and a task I'll happily leave to the technology from now on.
In my books, all good food tours end in Sandringham—specifically at RRK's Madras Cafe for a signature dosa and dipping medley. Four stops across the city, and not once did I think about the car—no fuel stop, no range panic, no complexity. That's the myth of going electric: it isn't a leap, or a project. It's just an easier version of the drive I already do, in a car I already trust.

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