Man About Town – April 2026

By Mark Edwardson

¿CÓMO ESTÁS? Yes, that’s right I’m scribbling this article in Spain. I’ve gone on safari in pursuit of the sun in what I genuinely believed was the appropriately named Costa del Sol. However, the overcast and occasionally drizzly weather makes me long for Congleton and the sunny spells you’re all enjoying at the time of writing.

Don’t get me wrong I adore Spain. The culture, the cuisine and the people are all fantastic. So is the weather - mostly. But motoring has its peculiar challenges for a driver used to the relatively ordered roads of the United Kingdom.

The most obvious difference is that European drivers, unlike us on the mainland, are forced to cope with car manufacturers who insist on building their vehicles with the steering wheel on the wrong side. If you’ve never driven on the right it will seem daunting because it is. Native Spanish drivers aren’t known for their patience or courtesy. No quarter is given and none is expected. Just don’t show any sign of fear or make eye contact with other drivers and keep your foot down and you’ll be fine.

While the use of a vehicle can be intimidating there are many more differences to be aware of.

The Spanish love paperwork and motoring is no exception. Booking an MOT in Britain couldn’t be simpler. Ring the garage ask for an appointment and turn up at the allotted time. Not in Spain. I took a car for their version of the test, known as an ITV. In the garage the mechanic asked me for the registration number, name address and telephone number. Then he asked me for the Vehicle Identification Number which I didn’t have. So I traipsed half a mile back to the car and duly returned with the details. He spent fifteen minutes on a computer before printing out reams and reams of paperwork. He then asked me to sign the paperwork before retrieving it from me. Finally, he took a rubber stamp and thumped away furiously leaving inky marks on each of the forms he’d printed. After inspecting each of the many sheets now weighing down his desk he handed one to me. I thanked him for the ITV certificate and turned to leave when he dropped the bombshell - this palaver was just to arrange an appointment for the test. Does anyone recall the David Jason sitcom from the late-Seventies called “A Sharp Intake of Breath”?

It’s not hard to believe Spain has some of the most dangerous roads in the world. And the one that runs right outside my window is probably the worst. It’s the old coastal route between Barcelona and Cadiz and was originally a track for donkey-hauled carts. Now it’s a two lanes either side dual carriageway with motorway-level speed limits, narrow lanes and very sharp bends. If you’re a thrill seeker it’s paradise especially when a driver joins the road. Many of the slip roads are about 10 yards long and demand a vehicle stops before joining the carriageway. Occasionally, you’ll still find one that faces the wrong way. Almost all have poor visibility for oncoming traffic.

Despite and perhaps because of the appalling record on Spanish roads a driver is obliged to carry a plethora of safety equipment. A hi-visibility jacket for each seat in the car, a first aid kit, a full set of replacement bulbs and now a flashing beacon to warn motorists approaching at 120 kph around a blind bend that you’re stranded. And with the paperwork addiction in mind don’t forget your documentos.

Most of the main highways are very smooth at times but the side roads can be deeply rutted and potholed. So, in a small way I felt right at home!