The need to do this post has been building up for quite some time now, although I'd been putting it off because, well, one doesn't like to moan too much. However, I can take it no longer, I absolutely have to rant and rave about bad Spanish drivers, or Spankers as my friend's dad down near Malaga calls them.
Now, before anyone starts with their "hang on just one moment...", I do realise that Spain does not have a monopoly on dreadful motorists and I'm fully aware that making generalisations and stereotyping is a Bad Thing. However, I would like you all to read the following post and make up your own minds.
I first became aware of bad Spanish drivers (to henceforth be referred to a BSDs) when I spent five months living in Valencia in 1996. The flat I rented with some friends from uni was on one of the main roads leading into the city centre, with two fairly busy lanes in each direction. Apart from honking horns, the most common sound - two or three times a day - rising above the general buzz of the traffic, was the screech of car tires as a vehicle had to come to a sudden stop for one reason or another. Then in Lugo (Galicia), where I spent nine months in 1997-1998, I learnt about the impatience of Spanish drivers and their use of the car horn - if Spanish drivers are waiting in a queue for any reason and feel that they should have started moving already, somebody will honk their horn. Once this first move has been made, everyone will follow suit, and it's not just one honk, it's constant honking, no matter what time of day. The road where I used to work in Lugo was a popular honking spot due to it being a narrow residential street with cars parked on either side. All it needed was for one car to double park for a minute to drop something off or pick up a friend and the cacophony would start.
So that's my introduction to BSDs, nothing too damning so far, but carry on reading and you'll see...
Since I have been in Asturias I have learnt just how bad BSDs can be. I don't know if this is because Asturias has a greater proportion of BSDs or because this is the first time I've actually driven in Spain myself. No matter, all I know is that there are a great many people around here who should not even be let near a car, never mind allowed to get in one and motor around.
Apart from the usual suspects (BMW drivers) there are many other categories of BSD. To start off with we have our older drivers, normally male, who have never actually passed a driving test and yet have still been given a licence. This is because, apparently, years ago in Spain the driving licence did not exist, all you needed to be able to drive was a car. When the law was finally changed they just handed out licences left, right and centre to those who were already motoring. I can imagine that this wasn't too bad at the time when cars were slower and there were fewer of them on the roads. Nowadays though, you often come across older drivers doing 20 kph in the middle of the road with cars trying to get past in both directions.
Next, we have the roundabout virgins. I call them virgins, because even though you know they must've taken on a roundabout before, you'd never guess it from their driving. This normally takes one of two forms. The first involves stopping whilst on the roundabout to let cars onto it. You constantly need to be on the lookout in case you have one of these in front of you and have to hit the brakes suddenly. The second category is made up of those people who only ever use the outside lane, no matter what exit they're taking. Matt and I have learnt from experience that we use the inside lane at our peril. Several times we've been cut off when trying to move from the inside to the outside lane to exit and we find that the person who'd originally taken the outside lane has moved all the way round the roundabout with us to then cut us off at the point we wished to exit, meaning that we need to navigate the roundabout once more to finally be able to get off it. The very worst example of roundabout abuse that I have been witness, and unwilling party, to and possibly the worst example of driving I've ever seen in Spain, was at the small roundabout at the edge of town with an exit that leads uphill to our house. There are four roads leading off the rounadbout and I was coming from town to take the last exit home. Behind me was a small white van (yes, OK, I should've known!). I indicated right to let the driver behind me know where I was going and off I went. To my astonishment, when I came to the exit I saw the van coming from my left - the wrong way round the roundabout - to pull in front of me and zoom off down the same exit as I was about to take. I slammed on the breaks and spend a few seconds flabbergasted before I carried on my journey home, running in the front door to tell Matt about the biggest Spanker I'd ever come across.
Next there are non-indicators. The name speaks for itself and includes 90% of the drivers round here. The first thing you know about the person in front of you stopping at the roadside is when s/he suddenly slows down in front of you and pulls over with not the slightest indication of his/her intentions. You can also get a combined non-indicator/roundabout virgin. It's highly frustrating to be waiting at a roundabout for a car that is not indicating and that you assume is going straight round past you, only to find that s/he exits down the road you're coming from, thus spoiling your perfect opportunity to get on the roundabout. And this happens almost every time.
Now we come to bad parkers. You get them everywhere, but they proliferate here. BSDs will park anywhere. They double park on narrow roads, they park on zebra crossings and block the lowered part of the pavement so wheelchair users can't cross the road. They will park on street corners at an angle where the two roads meet. Sometimes it's not obvious they've even parked, they just stop in the middle of the road. Driving through El Entrego on market day is like running a slalom.
Then there are the zebra-crossers, who seem to have no idea what pedestrian crossings are for and drive straight across them at speed. Not only is this annoying when I want to cross the roads, but it also has the effect that when I do stop to let pedestrians cross, they usually ignore me and stay put or wave at me to carry on. Those that do cross often do so with a servile look of gratitude on their face as if I've just done them a huge favour that they can never possibly repay. This lack of regard for crossings has irritated me so much that I've now taken to crossing them, on foot, as slowly as possible, just to annoy the Spankers and make certain that they have to stop to let me across.
The penultimate category of BSDs is drunks. Going out for a tipple with your car and then driving home is very common here, and not just in the evenings but at lunchtime too. They will often combine all the charateristics of the above-mentionned drivers so you especially have to be on your guard. There is a bar half-way up the hill to our house, and I often get caught behind someone who's obviously had 'one' too many and fancies another one the way home. The best thing to do with these is to keep your distance at all times and watch them like a hawk. Don't try to overtake as you never know when they're going to swerve across the road, and they probably don't know either. They'll often slow down from their snail's pace to salute acquaintances on the way up and then pull over when they get near the bar without any indication whatsoever.
And finally we get to the macho youngsters, scourge of the Spanish roads. As the name suggests, this category is mostly made up of the male of the species, although it also includes all those females who feel the need to show that they can drive just as 'well' as their male counterparts. These people often drive Seats or will have souped up another make of car. The Seat is ideal though as it proves what a thoroughly nationalistic and masculine driver is behind the wheel. You know you're in for trouble if you see one approaching in the rear view mirror. Another sign of these drivers is a torrito sticker on the rear of the car. Combine this small black bull with a red Seat León sporting a spoiler and a huge exhaust and you have your muy macho youngster, an even worse offender for speeding, tailgating and suicidal overtaking. Of course, the best way to deal with these is to keep a cool head and let them past. Matt however prefers to squirt his windscreen cleaner if he finds one behind him - as they get so close they end up with water on their screens too. For some reason seem to be unable to deal with using their windscreen wipers and driving at speed at the same time so they normally back off after the threat of a little of water. I still prefer to let them overtake and then curse them loudly, it make me feel much better.
So there we have it, a damning account indeed, I think, and a warning for anyone thinking of driving in Spain. I defy anyone not to let me enter Spankers/BSDs onto my Spanish blacklist!
Now, before anyone starts with their "hang on just one moment...", I do realise that Spain does not have a monopoly on dreadful motorists and I'm fully aware that making generalisations and stereotyping is a Bad Thing. However, I would like you all to read the following post and make up your own minds.
I first became aware of bad Spanish drivers (to henceforth be referred to a BSDs) when I spent five months living in Valencia in 1996. The flat I rented with some friends from uni was on one of the main roads leading into the city centre, with two fairly busy lanes in each direction. Apart from honking horns, the most common sound - two or three times a day - rising above the general buzz of the traffic, was the screech of car tires as a vehicle had to come to a sudden stop for one reason or another. Then in Lugo (Galicia), where I spent nine months in 1997-1998, I learnt about the impatience of Spanish drivers and their use of the car horn - if Spanish drivers are waiting in a queue for any reason and feel that they should have started moving already, somebody will honk their horn. Once this first move has been made, everyone will follow suit, and it's not just one honk, it's constant honking, no matter what time of day. The road where I used to work in Lugo was a popular honking spot due to it being a narrow residential street with cars parked on either side. All it needed was for one car to double park for a minute to drop something off or pick up a friend and the cacophony would start.
So that's my introduction to BSDs, nothing too damning so far, but carry on reading and you'll see...
Since I have been in Asturias I have learnt just how bad BSDs can be. I don't know if this is because Asturias has a greater proportion of BSDs or because this is the first time I've actually driven in Spain myself. No matter, all I know is that there are a great many people around here who should not even be let near a car, never mind allowed to get in one and motor around.
Apart from the usual suspects (BMW drivers) there are many other categories of BSD. To start off with we have our older drivers, normally male, who have never actually passed a driving test and yet have still been given a licence. This is because, apparently, years ago in Spain the driving licence did not exist, all you needed to be able to drive was a car. When the law was finally changed they just handed out licences left, right and centre to those who were already motoring. I can imagine that this wasn't too bad at the time when cars were slower and there were fewer of them on the roads. Nowadays though, you often come across older drivers doing 20 kph in the middle of the road with cars trying to get past in both directions.
Next, we have the roundabout virgins. I call them virgins, because even though you know they must've taken on a roundabout before, you'd never guess it from their driving. This normally takes one of two forms. The first involves stopping whilst on the roundabout to let cars onto it. You constantly need to be on the lookout in case you have one of these in front of you and have to hit the brakes suddenly. The second category is made up of those people who only ever use the outside lane, no matter what exit they're taking. Matt and I have learnt from experience that we use the inside lane at our peril. Several times we've been cut off when trying to move from the inside to the outside lane to exit and we find that the person who'd originally taken the outside lane has moved all the way round the roundabout with us to then cut us off at the point we wished to exit, meaning that we need to navigate the roundabout once more to finally be able to get off it. The very worst example of roundabout abuse that I have been witness, and unwilling party, to and possibly the worst example of driving I've ever seen in Spain, was at the small roundabout at the edge of town with an exit that leads uphill to our house. There are four roads leading off the rounadbout and I was coming from town to take the last exit home. Behind me was a small white van (yes, OK, I should've known!). I indicated right to let the driver behind me know where I was going and off I went. To my astonishment, when I came to the exit I saw the van coming from my left - the wrong way round the roundabout - to pull in front of me and zoom off down the same exit as I was about to take. I slammed on the breaks and spend a few seconds flabbergasted before I carried on my journey home, running in the front door to tell Matt about the biggest Spanker I'd ever come across.
Next there are non-indicators. The name speaks for itself and includes 90% of the drivers round here. The first thing you know about the person in front of you stopping at the roadside is when s/he suddenly slows down in front of you and pulls over with not the slightest indication of his/her intentions. You can also get a combined non-indicator/roundabout virgin. It's highly frustrating to be waiting at a roundabout for a car that is not indicating and that you assume is going straight round past you, only to find that s/he exits down the road you're coming from, thus spoiling your perfect opportunity to get on the roundabout. And this happens almost every time.
Now we come to bad parkers. You get them everywhere, but they proliferate here. BSDs will park anywhere. They double park on narrow roads, they park on zebra crossings and block the lowered part of the pavement so wheelchair users can't cross the road. They will park on street corners at an angle where the two roads meet. Sometimes it's not obvious they've even parked, they just stop in the middle of the road. Driving through El Entrego on market day is like running a slalom.
Then there are the zebra-crossers, who seem to have no idea what pedestrian crossings are for and drive straight across them at speed. Not only is this annoying when I want to cross the roads, but it also has the effect that when I do stop to let pedestrians cross, they usually ignore me and stay put or wave at me to carry on. Those that do cross often do so with a servile look of gratitude on their face as if I've just done them a huge favour that they can never possibly repay. This lack of regard for crossings has irritated me so much that I've now taken to crossing them, on foot, as slowly as possible, just to annoy the Spankers and make certain that they have to stop to let me across.
The penultimate category of BSDs is drunks. Going out for a tipple with your car and then driving home is very common here, and not just in the evenings but at lunchtime too. They will often combine all the charateristics of the above-mentionned drivers so you especially have to be on your guard. There is a bar half-way up the hill to our house, and I often get caught behind someone who's obviously had 'one' too many and fancies another one the way home. The best thing to do with these is to keep your distance at all times and watch them like a hawk. Don't try to overtake as you never know when they're going to swerve across the road, and they probably don't know either. They'll often slow down from their snail's pace to salute acquaintances on the way up and then pull over when they get near the bar without any indication whatsoever.
And finally we get to the macho youngsters, scourge of the Spanish roads. As the name suggests, this category is mostly made up of the male of the species, although it also includes all those females who feel the need to show that they can drive just as 'well' as their male counterparts. These people often drive Seats or will have souped up another make of car. The Seat is ideal though as it proves what a thoroughly nationalistic and masculine driver is behind the wheel. You know you're in for trouble if you see one approaching in the rear view mirror. Another sign of these drivers is a torrito sticker on the rear of the car. Combine this small black bull with a red Seat León sporting a spoiler and a huge exhaust and you have your muy macho youngster, an even worse offender for speeding, tailgating and suicidal overtaking. Of course, the best way to deal with these is to keep a cool head and let them past. Matt however prefers to squirt his windscreen cleaner if he finds one behind him - as they get so close they end up with water on their screens too. For some reason seem to be unable to deal with using their windscreen wipers and driving at speed at the same time so they normally back off after the threat of a little of water. I still prefer to let them overtake and then curse them loudly, it make me feel much better.
So there we have it, a damning account indeed, I think, and a warning for anyone thinking of driving in Spain. I defy anyone not to let me enter Spankers/BSDs onto my Spanish blacklist!
10 comments:
Sorry I didn't comment when I first read this, but as I said in one of my comments I got dragged out by Ann!
We saw a bit of this when we were in Spain in May but Maalie managed to upset a few himself, with his driving!
I can't bear tailgaters. Now when they try to drive up my exhaust pipe I just go slower and slower and slower and slower a n d
s l o w e r a n d s l o w e r
until they get so fed up they either pull back or roar past me, sometimes giving me a friendly little wave with two fingers!
Lorenzo.
p.s. how do you like labyrinth?
L.
I notice you removed the fellow that was using the blog for advertising. Perhaps I should do so too, from mine.
I haven't read Norwegian Wood although Jack says it's good. I have read Kafka on the Shore, The Windupbird Chronicals and South of the Border West of the Sun (?). I love Murakami but I know a lot of people don't.
Do you read Louis de Berniers?
Lorenzo.
I was just browsing thru your blog... haven't got any deeply significant comments regarding Spanish Drivers as I've never encountered any, having not been a visitor to Spain... but I do have a comment about John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers. WOW! Are they still alive? I used to go to their gigs back in the early 60's in Southampton, UK. In fact I think I met my husband at one of their gigs.... it was a cheap pick-up!! (Husband isn't around any more) And I think I saw them a couple of times in London too. They were a big deal back then.
Spankers, what an excellent term, I shall pass this on to Mr. C. One of the most important things I have taught him is how the English respond to bad drivers.
Spankers are all over the place in Gran Can, especially non-indicators and muy macho drivers. Folk there also tend to stop in the middle of the road for a chat if they see someone coming the other way that they know, taxi drivers are the worst for this.
The worst driving I ever saw was from an older gentleman in a hire car, he had to be English. Driving ahead of me he came to a roundabout, entered the roundabout from the wrong side of the road, drove the wrong way around it and exited on the entry road and then crossed to the correct side of the road. He was very lucky not to meet any spankers coming onto the roundabout.
Madame C. I think it must have been Maalie you saw.
Lorenzo.
And I thought London drivers were bad!
Ah yes, road-rage. It does bring out the devil in many a Parisioner. And yes, the sin of wanting to barge your fellow man off the road and down a 300 metre precipice, is great indeed.
But even this shall be forgiven by coughing up at the 'Deli Confessional'. Go on, you know you want to.
Father Ann. See I told you so, there's lots of work for you out here too and not just in Poynton & Macc. If you could bring the Deli over with you too that'd be fantastic.
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