It's easy, almost reflexive, to complain about Britain's roads. Potholes. Speed cameras. The glacial M25. For many, driving here feels like a punishment, a necessary evil.
But hold on. That knee-jerk self-deprecation? It's a national sport. Yet, beneath the grumbling, there's a truth few outsiders, and even fewer natives, truly appreciate: Britain is, in fact, a fantastic place for anyone who actually loves cars.
Forget the romanticized autobahns for a moment. This isn't about raw, unrestricted speed. Britain's history as an automotive powerhouse means it has long offered some surprisingly lenient tax conditions for motorists. True, shelling out £5490 in the first year for a particularly thirsty machine, then £620 annually for five years, isn't exactly a party. But consider France. Want French plates on your zippy Toyota GR Yaris? That's an eye-watering €70,000 extra. Suddenly, British vehicle excise duty seems almost quaint. Other nations fare little better.
The Unwritten Rules of the Road
Authorities here also display a rather charming laissez-faire attitude towards velocity. While no derestricted sections exist, the 60mph limit on secondary roads feels quite generous. Only Germany's 100kph (62mph) offers a marginal edge. And if you're tempted to push the envelope? Every single speed camera is painted bright yellow. No lurking in dustbins like their Belgian counterparts. Transparency. What a concept.
On many roads, it would be suicidal/homicidal to actually do 60mph, but the authorities seemingly assume that you will be sensible. I like that kind of trust.
Indeed. This implied trust is a rare commodity. And frankly, if you can't enjoy a truly twisty road without exceeding 60mph, the issue likely isn't the limit; it's your car.
Then there are the roads themselves. Britain's sensible planning history means towns often have distinct edges, dissolving into genuine countryside rather than endless sprawl. Factor in the island's varied topography, its haphazardly laid-out fields, and ancient land borders, and you get country lanes. Roads with character. Corners. Actual scenery. You needn't trek to rural Wales or the Scottish Highlands for a good time—though, of course, a pilgrimage there is never a bad idea. This patchwork of asphalt and history offers something uniquely engaging. Something truly unexpected.
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