BYD has gone from being a name few British buyers had heard of to one of the biggest success stories in the global car industry in just a few short years. The Chinese company started out making rechargeable batteries at its headquarters in Wuhan, before moving into electric cars. Today it's one of the world's largest manufacturers of electrified vehicles, while it makes pretty much everything in its vehicles from the batteries and the semiconductors to the electric motors and the steel. It even has its own shipping company to move its cars around the world, although local production is very much on the agenda with a first factory in Europe opening soon.
The Sealion 7 is currently the flagship of BYD's UK range, sitting just below the more premium models that will carry the newly introduced Denza badge. A sleek family SUV aimed squarely at the heart of the most competitive sectors of the market, it’s taking on the Tesla Model Y, Hyundai Ioniq 5 and Kia EV6, as well as other Chinese rivals such as the Xpeng G6, with BYD banking on a combination of generous standard equipment, impressive technology and competitive pricing.
It's exactly the sort of car we wanted to spend more time with.
A first drive can tell you plenty about a new model, but it's only after weeks and months of everyday use that you discover whether an electric car really delivers. Is it as easy to charge as the brochure suggests? Does the technology remain intuitive once the novelty wears off? Can it cope with long journeys, family duties and the day-to-day demands of modern life?
We’re now well into our second month of living with the Sealion 7 and it’s proving its worth in more ways than one – and persuading other people of the benefits of electric cars, while helping us all discover more about one of China's biggest automotive success stories.
BYD Sealion 7 Comfort
- Base price:£46,990
- Options:Polar White metallic paint (£1,100)
- Total price:£48,090
- Battery size:82.5kWh
- Maximum claimed range:300 miles
- Maximum charging rate:150kW
- 0-62mph:6.7 seconds
BYD Sealion 7 Comfort – second report
I no longer feel there is something faintly incongruous about driving a BYD Chinese car through the country lanes of Somerset, the heart of rural England, even on one of the hottest days of the year – now almost 20 per cent of electric cars sold in the UK are Chinese.
The air conditioning belted out refreshingly cold from the Sealion 7 and it almost seemed normal to be complaining about the very British peril of potholes while in a Chinese EV. This is week four of rural testing of a vehicle which, through its very hi-tech specs and fancy revolving touchscreen, seems a very urban car.
The car had travelled thousands of miles from Beijing before reaching Britain and its makers would not have had Somerset necessarily in its sights. Now it was being asked to cope with something rather less adventurous: narrow lanes, high hedgerows, rough patches of tarmac and the occasional tractor occupying more road than is reasonable, or at any rate passable.
It is a useful way to test a car — on roads where you must concentrate, where the hedges obscure the next bend at this time of year, past blackberries and the final surge of summer hedge growth plus the growl of combine harvesters.
We headed towards Glastonbury Tor.
The sun was fierce. The countryside had taken on that dry, golden appearance that Somerset gets in a hot spell, and on the approach to the Tor, the lanes tightened and the BYD’s cameras became useful, particularly where the view ahead disappeared behind banks and foliage.
The electric power was well suited to the terrain. It was quiet and immediate, without the drama of a conventional engine and gearbox. On a climb, there was no fuss — just steady acceleration.
Inside, the cabin takes a distinctly un-European approach to relaxation. Rather than the firm, heavily contoured sports seats favoured by modern German rivals, the front seats are wide and heavily cushioned – more akin to sinking into a comfortable living-room armchair. On a long, warm drive across country lanes, it’s an inviting place to sit, even if you wouldn't expect them to hold you tightly through a fast hairpin bend.
But the car was not entirely at home. The suspension can feel less settled on some of Britain’s rougher surfaces, something that became apparent on the more broken stretches of road. It isn’t uncomfortable, but there are moments when you would prefer a little more softness and composure.
I wasn’t the only one making observations. Brendan Targett has been driving lorries for more than 30 years. He had never driven a Chinese car before, and I was interested in what someone with that much time on the road would make of it.
His assessment was refreshingly practical: “Very comfortable, very smooth, very understanding for someone that’s not high tech, very easy to do, and yeah, a very nice car to drive.”
Looking at an old diesel-fuel Land Rover Discovery nearby, he added: “This is a Rolls-Royce compared to a Discovery.”
That is Brendan’s comparison, rather than mine, and it says something about how he found the BYD. “Aircon’s really nice. Computer’s easy to use. Good sight system. Good charge distance.”
The centerpiece of that computer system is hard to miss: a giant 15.6-inch central display that, at the touch of a steering wheel button, motorises and rotates 90 degrees from landscape to portrait. It is a delightfully theatrical party trick – one that inevitably draws a grin from passengers the first time they see it – even if, in practice, portrait mode can momentarily obstruct a sliver of your view over the dash on tighter bends, leading you to leave it in landscape most of the time.
Yet Brendan wasn’t handing out prizes blindly. The door handles didn’t impress him, and he wanted a softer ride.
His other criticism was rather more modern. “The AI cameras are really good until you yawn and it tells you to stop.”
The technology is impressive, although like many modern driver-assistance systems, it occasionally seems rather too keen to supervise the person actually driving the car.
We carried on from the Tor towards Somerton and by then, the BYD had been given a reasonably thorough taste of British driving: hot weather, narrow lanes, hills, open roads and longer-distance travel.
There was also time for one of the day’s better geographical jokes. We took it round the Globe. Or rather round to the Globe, one of Somerton’s midtown pubs.
A Chinese car going round the Globe seemed almost unnecessarily appropriate: International positioning. Local geography.
The question I had at the beginning was whether a BYD would feel out of place on British roads. The answer is no.
But that isn’t the same as saying it is flawless, or that its origins don’t matter. There are legitimate questions around the long-term ownership experience, servicing, residual values and how these newer brands will fare as their cars age. Those are questions that cannot be answered by an afternoon’s driving.
What can be judged from behind the wheel is the car itself. And on that basis, the BYD is a serious piece of ingenuity. It’s quiet and comfortable, easy to operate and packed with useful technology.
The BYD doesn’t need to be declared the future of motoring. It simply needs to prove that it deserves a place on the road.
On the twisting lanes around the Somerset Levels, it made a reasonably convincing case.
BYD Sealion 7 Comfort – first report
It wasn’t the acceleration, the giant touchscreen or even the fact that I was driving a Chinese electric car through deepest Somerset that made me realise the BYD Sealion was something rather different.
It was the yawn.
Somewhere on a winding country road, bordered by high hedgerows and the sort of villages where everyone notices an unfamiliar number plate, I let out an entirely innocent yawn. Before I’d even finished, the car politely interrupted.
“Are you tired? Perhaps you should take a break.”
I blinked.
My wife has been known to say something similar. I wasn’t expecting it from the car.
The Sealion had actually seen me yawn. It wasn’t scolding me so much as looking after me. Slightly unnerving? Yes. Clever? Undoubtedly. It felt like the first of many moments when I realised this wasn’t simply another electric SUV packed with gadgets. It was almost trying to be a travelling companion.
Driving a Chinese car is still something of a conversation starter in rural Somerset. The Sealion, in gleaming white and with more than a hint of rock-star swagger, attracted plenty of curious glances in market squares and village car parks.
Questions followed almost everywhere I stopped.
“How far does it go?”
“How quickly does it charge?”
And, inevitably…
“So…it’s Chinese?”
We’ve become entirely comfortable with our phones, laptops, televisions and half the contents of our kitchens coming from China. Cars somehow still surprise people.
After only a couple of weeks, I found myself confidently answering technical questions like I’d worked for BYD for years.
“Is it more high-tech?” asked our local mechanic.
“I think it probably is,” I replied, sounding far more authoritative than I had any right to.
The Blade Battery sounds like marketing jargon until I was told it’s a fundamentally different approach to battery design. It’s engineered for durability, thermal stability and efficient packaging, allowing more of the car’s floor to be devoted to energy storage. You don’t notice any of that while driving, of course.
Inside, it certainly feels futuristic. The vast central screen—about the size of a family pizza—makes sat-nav directions blissfully easy to follow. Better still, my phone simply sits on a flat charging pad instead of disappearing into one of those mysterious storage compartments that manufacturers always seem to imagine we’ll fill with pencils, loose change or forgotten receipts.
The cabin itself somehow feels lighter than the car’s considerable dimensions suggest. It’s airy, spacious and astonishingly quiet. Even at motorway speeds there’s remarkably little wind noise, leaving only the faintest whisper from the tyres. Conversation becomes effortless and, perhaps more surprisingly, so does thinking. You arrive feeling noticeably less fatigued than after covering the same distance in many conventional SUVs.
The dashboard screen can rotate from landscape to portrait at the press of a button – a feature that never quite loses its novelty. It’s one of those gimmicks that initially makes passengers smile before you discover it can actually be rather useful depending on which apps you’re using.
One small gripe? The door handles. They protrude when the car is unlocked and only sit flush once it’s locked. It’s not quite as elegant as some rivals. Then again, perhaps that’s simply another way the Sealion is quietly communicating with me.
“Don’t forget to lock me.”
Apparently the conversation between driver and car never really ends.
Out on the road, though, the technology quickly fades into the background and what you’re left with is simply a very reassuringly efficient car.
Electric cars have a reputation for feeling brutally quick in a straight line but slightly detached once the road begins to twist. The Sealion largely avoids that trap. Yes, it accelerates with the sort of instant shove that caught me by surprise, overtaking becoming little more than a flex of your right foot, but it’s the way it settles into a hedge-lined B-road that impressed me more.
The steering isn’t sports-car sharp, nor does it pretend to be. Instead it has a natural, reassuring weight that encourages smooth driving rather than frantic inputs. The suspension was unfazed by Somerset’s roads, which are rarely billiard-table smooth, yet the Sealion absorbed broken surfaces, potholes and ridges with ease.
After only a day or two I found myself instinctively easing off the accelerator earlier, allowing the car to harvest energy while gliding almost silently towards junctions. It becomes oddly satisfying, almost a game, trying to drive as smoothly and efficiently as possible.
We wandered repeatedly into Somerton, threaded through the Mendip lanes, passed sheep, goats and even a mozzarella buffalo farm. The Sealion waited patiently behind tractors without complaint before stretching its legs effortlessly on faster roads.
Adaptive cruise control and lane assistance made longer journeys noticeably less tiring without ever feeling overbearing. Unlike some systems that seem determined to wrestle the steering wheel from your hands, BYD’s setup generally feels more like an attentive co-driver than an anxious driving instructor.
One favourite detour took us to East Coker, where T.S. Eliot is buried in the church of St Michael. It felt entirely appropriate to arrive there in near silence, the electric motor barely disturbing the peace of the churchyard. Inside is the simple memorial to the poet whose words seem somehow to fit both the landscape and modern travel:
“In my beginning is my end.”
Standing there, before setting off once more, I couldn’t help thinking of another line from Little Gidding:
“The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”
There’s something about exploring England by electric car that makes you notice places differently. Journeys become quieter, more deliberate and somehow more observant. Without the constant background soundtrack of an engine, birdsong, the wind through trees or even the church bells of a nearby village become more part of the journey.
From East Coker we zipped across to Bath, where the Sealion glided into the city with all the serenity you’d hope for before we escaped to The Gainsborough Bath Spa Hotel.
Range anxiety? Hardly.
We began with around 325 miles available, and charging proved reassuringly quick. Planning stops quickly became less about necessity and more about deciding when we fancied a coffee. That’s probably the biggest compliment I can pay any modern EV: after a few days you stop thinking about it being electric at all.
Even more impressive was the way the Sealion logged every single journey, however tiny, building up a neat diary of everywhere we’d been. Like the car noticing my yawn, it all contributed to the sense that this was a vehicle paying attention.
The Sealion isn’t simply loaded with technology for technology’s sake. It feels as though every useful idea has been squeezed into it, yet most of them quietly fade into the background once you’re driving. The clever bits don’t demand your attention; they simply make the experience easier, calmer and more enjoyable.
Except the yawn detector.
That one rather stays with you.
I’ve learnt that if you’re going to spend time with a BYD Sealion, you should remember your manners.
Because somewhere behind that enormous touchscreen, it might just be watching.