I am many things, but a car person is not one of them. I know how to drive, I can fill my tank with petrol, but that’s basically the extent of my knowledge.

The first time I rode in a Tesla was after booking an Uber, and I didn’t know how to open the door. For a long time, if you’d asked me what a Maserati was, I’d have guessed a type of fancy salami.

It is with this context that I’m not filled with confidence when arriving at the Sydney International EV Motor Show on Thursday evening.

Held at ICC Sydney, the showcase is the largest Australian display of electric vehicles, featuring about 100 that, to the untrained eye (myself), sound like characters in a Star Trek film rather than modes of transport.

DEEPAL S07. Farizon SV SWB. Smart #3 Brabus.

About 40,000 people are expected to descend on the ICC when the event kicks off on Friday, scrambling to get close to glistening luxury electric models from Ferrari to Porsche, Lamborghini to McLaren.

The Back to the Future car (DMC DeLorean) is even on display, rebooted, literally, with an electric battery.

Ray Evans, the chief executive of event organisers Future Drive AutoShows, says the demographic of electric vehicle owners is changing as they become more accessible.

Next May, Future Drive Auto will hold the first “Tradie Motor Show” featuring electric commercial and lifestyle vehicles: think utes, vans and 4x4s.

“Post-Covid, there were four brands [available in Australia],” Evans says. “Today, there are 96 models in market. And next year, there are 70 coming.

“Just the speed at which the progress has happened is incredible. EVs, even three years ago, weren’t as acceptable. I think the range anxiety is dissipating, but we’re still not totally there. Trump’s put it back about 100 years.”

I came to the Sydney show with high hopes to test the XPeng X2 Flying Car, which looks like a hovercraft in a Bond film, can fly for up to 35 minutes and costs a cool $200,000. I imagined myself soaring over Sydney harbour like an ibis in search of food.

Sadly, flying cars remain illegal in Australia (good luck taking a ride anywhere outside China or Dubai), so I settle on sitting inside it with the propellers slowly moving, feeling like a character in Blade Runner.

In place of my lofty flight aspirations I am handed the keys to the XPeng G6, which I am assured is “really popular” and “beautiful”. It retails for $55,000, which puts it in the show’s “mainstream” category – the cheapest electric cars on sale in Australia still cost about $30,000, while some on show here, such as the McLaren Artura, go for more than $500,000.

XPeng, a Chinese electric vehicle manufacturer based in Guangzhou, first launched in Australia last September with the very car I would be driving.

Jason Clarke, boss of TrueEV, the exclusive Australian importer and distributor for XPeng, says he was once the sole driver of the G6 model in his Sydney suburb. Now there are eight of them.

A modest increase, but noteworthy nonetheless.

In Chinese cities such as Guangzhou, Clarke says, more than 80% of new cars are electric. In Australia, it is around 12%.

“Only 2 or 3% of all cars are EVs [in Australia],” he says. “But last month, 16% of new car sales were EVs. The market’s there.

“[The change] from horse and cart to car took 25 years. We’ve had about 12 years. I think [the uptake] will happen faster once the infrastructure’s been put in place. I predict it’ll snowball. I just think [petrol cars] are done. There’s no future for it.”

After nervously shaking hands with the owner of my trial vehicle, I descend to the car park, where the G6 awaits. Before even entering the car, you can choose the temperature of your seat, activate air conditioners and move it from its parked position.

I watch, mouth agape, as it slowly drives of its own accord away from the car park’s bollard, and then back again. “Wow!” I exclaim. “This is the future!”

Once safely seated (I still struggle with the door), the ride is unnervingly smooth. Barely a sound emits. Before I can even think of making a mistake, the car provides you with advice to change your route, or intervenes on your behalf. A red sensor remains in my line of vision, watching me in case I become drowsy or fall asleep.

I am almost overly aware of my surroundings, with little human icons showing up every time someone walks past. It can even change lanes without me touching anything.

When we return to the car park and activate the auto-parking function, I begin to feel vaguely alarmed. Watching the wheel turn of its own accord and the car perfectly align itself into the space, I think of a robot future where everything is automated and nobody knows how to drive any more, and we are all sitting on spaceships eating junk food like in Wall-E.

Back in the convention centre, champagne is being poured, and eager members of the media hop into the flying car, just as I had done, high on technology and innovation.

“Are we all going to be driving flying cars in the future?” I ask Clarke nervously.

“Surprisingly, we get a lot of inquiries,” he says. “There are a large number of landowners that have helicopters and with the cost of maintenance, fuel, storage, there’s a future for it.

“But dropping the kids off at school in a flying car line with your kid’s name up front? No, it’s not going to happen in the near term.”