It was 30 years ago tomorrow [January 10, 1985] that Sir Clive Sinclair launched his “revolutionary new electric tricycle” the C5.

As I recall, it was much ridiculed at the time, so it seems Sir Clive may have been ahead of his time because the idea of an electric vehicle is not now as ludicrous as it might once have appeared.

On January 18, 1985, the Watford Observer carried a report – and a review – of the vehicle, described by the makers as “a completely new form of practical personal transport for all the family”.

The machine “drew many admirers” the report said and among its fans was Eastern Electricity showroom manager Mr Dennis Bristow.

He said: “It’s pretty fantastic. The shop was full all day and when we took it out of the showroom we nearly blocked the High Street. It really is quite remarkable. I found it quite fascinating as an ex-motorcyclist and now a car driver. It definitely has its place.”

The idea of the C5, which cost £399, was it could be driven by anyone over the age of 14 without a licence or road tax. It was easy to park too – up to five of the tricycles could be parked in the space usually taken up by a saloon car.

The company hoped to make more than 100,000 of the vehicles and, according to the article, “indications are they could be a familiar sight in the town before long”.

But all that optimism came to naught. So what happened? On the same page of the Observer was a review by reporter Megan Theobald, one of those who tested it at a special track at Alexandra Palace. She was, on the whole, quite positive.

She wrote: “Up to the minute technology it may be but elegant it certainly isn’t, I caught myself thinking, as I hurtled towards the first bend of the test circuit with my legs high up in the air, feet still dangling ineffectually from the C5’s pedals.

“Anyone who attempted to negotiate Watford’s rush hour traffic crammed bottom-first into this mobile washing up bowl would have to be crazy.

“Then I made two blinding discoveries. First, as the bend loomed perilously close, that the C5’s steering is so simple it’s virtually foolproof, even for a failed learner driver like myself.

“And second, that once you’ve got your little electronic buggy moving, there’s no need to use its ridiculous pedals, which reminded me of those plastic paddle boats for hire at the seaside.

“Fellow C5 drivers, all happily doing a lap of the small test circuit at Alexandra Palace, seemed to cotton on just as quickly to its simple controls. Pedal to start, push button accelerator and handlebar brakes. No nightmarish clutch control, no push-pull steering.

“It’s great fun – much better than playing the dodgems at the local fair.

“But as someone who has attempted to cycle on some of Watford’s busiest roads, I can’t help finding its simplicity extremely worrying.

“With a 20-mile capacity, it might well lure youngsters out on to main roads before they have developed the road sense to cope with the town’s cut-throat traffic. And even the most careful driver might be forgiven for not spotting a grey plastic buggy on the road ahead.

“Maybe the fault lies not in Sinclair’s design but with town planners who have created a world fit only for cars. Motorists may not have noticed, but travel south to north in Watford and you have to use the Town Hall roundabout, with its four lanes of heavy traffic all jostling for position.

“Perhaps as the vehicle of the future, the C5 needs the town of the future – Milton Keynes, with its purpose-built cycle paths – would be ideal.”

Other journalists were more scathing and the C5 proved far from the runaway success Sinclair had hoped. Only a few thousand of the trikes were sold, with people not impressed by the 15mph maximum speed and not feeling safe that close to the ground. With a climate like ours, the lack of any weatherproofing made it unsuitable for many people’s needs too.

Within three months of the launch, production had been slashed by 90 per cent, sales never picked up and production ceased entirely by August 1985.

Out of 14,000 C5s made, only 5,000 were sold before its manufacturer went into receivership.

In 2003, a poll of 1,000 technology fans ahead of the Gadget Show Live in Birmingham’s NEC voted it the biggest gadget disaster ever.