There’s a whole world out there driving in weird ways.
The automotive universe is a bizarre atlas of solutions, adaptations, habits, and passions.
Maybe because, when you really think about it, a car has never just been a means of transportation.
It’s culture, it’s economy, it’s resistance.
And often, it’s also a delightful eccentricity.
Mobility is never neutral—if anything, it’s a mirror of our habits, our limits, and our obsessions.
Next time you rent a car on holiday, pay close attention—you might just find yourself sucked into a collective ritual, an idea of freedom different from the one you’re used to, or simply a glorious mess on wheels.
For those of us who love engines, traveling reveals a much more surprising landscape than just driving on the left or the right.
Around the world, there are customs, rules, and automotive oddities that tell stories of cultures, economies, and habits far from our own.
Little sparks of human madness, scattered across the globe.
Just enough.In Singapore, for instance, your car’s license plate might be worth more than the car itself.
Imagine walking into a dealership, picking out a Toyota Yaris, and finding out you’ll need to spend another €100,000 just to register it.
I’m not kidding.
That’s exactly what happens in Singapore.
To limit traffic in one of the world’s most densely populated city-states, the government introduced a system called the Certificate of Entitlement.
It’s a real auction for the right to own a car for the next ten years.
And the average winning bid? Around one hundred thousand dollars.
Under those conditions, you’d think Singaporeans would just give up on car ownership altogether.
Not a chance!
In fact, for many, owning a license plate has become a status symbol—even more so than the car it’s bolted onto.
The automotive universe is a bizarre atlas of solutions, adaptations, habits, and passions.
Maybe because, when you really think about it, a car has never just been a means of transportation.
It’s culture, it’s economy, it’s resistance.
And often, it’s also a delightful eccentricity.
Mobility is never neutral—if anything, it’s a mirror of our habits, our limits, and our obsessions.
Next time you rent a car on holiday, pay close attention—you might just find yourself sucked into a collective ritual, an idea of freedom different from the one you’re used to, or simply a glorious mess on wheels.
For those of us who love engines, traveling reveals a much more surprising landscape than just driving on the left or the right.
Around the world, there are customs, rules, and automotive oddities that tell stories of cultures, economies, and habits far from our own.
Little sparks of human madness, scattered across the globe.
Just enough.In Singapore, for instance, your car’s license plate might be worth more than the car itself.
Imagine walking into a dealership, picking out a Toyota Yaris, and finding out you’ll need to spend another €100,000 just to register it.
I’m not kidding.
That’s exactly what happens in Singapore.
To limit traffic in one of the world’s most densely populated city-states, the government introduced a system called the Certificate of Entitlement.
It’s a real auction for the right to own a car for the next ten years.
And the average winning bid? Around one hundred thousand dollars.
Under those conditions, you’d think Singaporeans would just give up on car ownership altogether.
Not a chance!
In fact, for many, owning a license plate has become a status symbol—even more so than the car it’s bolted onto.
Thailand, on the other hand, is the kingdom of the tuk tuk.Anyone who’s ever been to Bangkok has at least laid eyes on one of these three-wheeled motorized creatures—if not actually hopped in for a ride.Loud, colorful, zippy like crazed insects, they dart through city traffic and stand as icons of Thai urban mobility.But why are they still so widespread?The reason is, all things considered, pretty simple.Tuk tuks are cheap to maintain, perfect for the narrow, crowded streets of Thai cities, and they’ve become an essential part of the country’s tourist identity.Driving one feels almost like a rite of passage.An experience halfway between an ethnic version of Gran Turismo and a vintage carnival ride.
But if Thailand is devoted to the three-wheeler, it’s Mexico that gave the Beetle a second life.While in Europe the legendary Volkswagen bug has become a vintage icon spotted at car meets, in Mexico it was—until very recently—the taxi of choice.Production of the beloved Vocho, as it’s known over there, carried on until 2003 at the Puebla factory.The Mexican love affair with the Beetle isn’t without reason.It’s a simple, sturdy, affordable car that’s easy to fix—perfect for those who drive dozens of kilometers every day.For decades, it was the go-to taxi in Mexico City, and even today you’ll still spot a few buzzing around—patched up maybe, but alive and kicking.
Anyone like me who once fed documents into a fax machine will surely remember that French cars used to stand out thanks to their yellow headlights—like tired, droopy eyes.At least until 1993.Was it a poetic choice? Almost, you could say.During World War II, yellow lights were introduced to distinguish civilian vehicles from military ones, and over time it became standard.Plus, they said yellow was easier on the eyes in the thick fog of the French countryside.Eventually, between the globalization of spare parts and poor light performance, yellow headlights were phased out.A nostalgic touch, like croissants made the proper way.You can still spot them—but only in the villages.
Japan is the kingdom of the kei car.In a country where every square centimeter is as precious as the air we breathe, the ideal vehicle isn’t an SUV—it’s more like a box on wheels.Kei cars—short for kei-jidōsha—are tiny, lightweight, and remarkably efficient.The price of that nimbleness? Strict rules: no more than 660 cc of engine displacement, and no wider than 1.48 meters.But don’t you dare think they’re just toys.In Japan, kei cars are treated with obsessive care—often customized with kawaii interiors, neon lights, or even turned into miniature rolling shrines.The government supports them with tax breaks and special parking perks, because even in the Land of the Rising Sun, the message is clear: small is beautiful.And also, a pretty smart deal.
But it’s in the Netherlands where cars have learned how to swim.In a land of canals and dikes, someone had the brilliant idea to build a car that floats.Enter the Amphicar—a sort of German convertible with the soul of a speedboat, produced in limited numbers but adored by the ever-eccentric Dutch.But there’s more.In the Netherlands, there’s an entire community of collectors and hobbyists who restore amphibious vehicles and actually use them to cross rivers. Literally.With organized outings and their proud rallying cry: “Drive into the water like you mean it.”
There’s a country where spirituality, yoga, and ancient scents blend seamlessly with the sound of horns, vivid colors, and a deep-rooted knowledge of carburetors.In India, the automobile is a full-blown synesthetic experience.You hear the car, you see it, you smell it.Every Ambassador taxi looks like it drove straight out of a Bollywood film—adorned with kaleidoscopic mirrors, vibrant flowers, deities nestled in the dashboard, and embroidered curtains dangling from the windows.Here, the horn isn’t an outlet—it’s a language.Three short blasts mean “I’m coming,” one long one signals caution, two alternating honks say “Move, I’m in a rush.”And what about traffic rules?Around here, they’re more of a loose suggestion.And yet, in the organized chaos, everything flows, everything moves, everything carries on. Always.As if orchestrated by some invisible traffic cop.
In Iceland, there are jeeps the size of whales.And no, this isn’t the start of a children’s story.In the land of fire and ice, you’ll find off-roaders with tires over a meter tall.Here, cars aren’t just modified—they’re transformed.Super Jeeps may look like monsters on wheels, but they’re the only way to cross the volcanic deserts and glacial rivers of this extraordinary country.Suspensions are pumped to lunar levels, the tires resemble those of a tractor—not for looks, but for survival.And yet, during the polar nights, these mechanical beasts take on an almost alien beauty—like metal whales, ready to vanish into the snow.
Cuba remains the island where time stopped in 1959.Walking through Havana feels like stepping into a vintage postcard: Cadillacs, Chevrolets, and '50s Fords cruise the streets as if time simply never moved on.And in a way, it hasn’t.The U.S. trade embargo forced Cubans to keep alive, for decades, cars that elsewhere became museum relics.With improvised parts, repurposed diesel truck engines, and a whole lot of ingenuity, these vehicles still run today.The only thing tougher than their bumpers is the tenacity of Cuban mechanics.
With the Autobahn, in Germany you can go wherever you want—at whatever speed you want.It might sound like an urban legend, but it’s pure Teutonic truth.On many stretches of the German Autobahn, there’s no speed limit.Most people cruise at around 150–170 km/h, but it’s not unusual to be passed by a Porsche doing 250 like it’s no big deal.And everything works flawlessly, because German discipline when it comes to lanes, safety distance, and road maintenance makes most other highways feel like a nightmare.Think Milan during rush hour.
In Australia, they drive on the left—but with a “roo bar.”That’s a steel bar mounted to the front of the car, built to withstand collisions with kangaroos.Yes, you read that right.While on our country roads we keep an eye out for deer, wild boars, or the occasional cow crossing mid-rumination, in some of Australia’s rural regions you’re far more likely to crash into a marsupial than another vehicle.The stats are clear: over 20,000 kangaroo-related car accidents each year.The solution? Thick steel and thin prayers.
But Norway is the true electric paradise.While the rest of the world is still debating if and when to embrace new powertrains, Norway already did it. Over 80% of the cars sold in 2023 were electric. In cities, charging stations outnumber gas pumps. And the government keeps giving locals a helping hand—with tax breaks, free parking, and access to bus lanes.
Around here, even a Tesla can feel a bit... basic.In the United Arab Emirates, everything is bigger.
In Dubai, supercars double as taxis. And if you're lucky, you might hail one and hop into a blazing Lamborghini. No, it’s not a fever dream—it’s real life. In a city where even the police drive Bugattis and McLarens, luxury cars are the norm. Shopping mall parking lots look like the Geneva Motor Show, and between gold, sand, and engine oil, even the humblest city car ends up feeling out of place.
Around here, even a Tesla can feel a bit... basic.In the United Arab Emirates, everything is bigger.
In Dubai, supercars double as taxis. And if you're lucky, you might hail one and hop into a blazing Lamborghini. No, it’s not a fever dream—it’s real life. In a city where even the police drive Bugattis and McLarens, luxury cars are the norm. Shopping mall parking lots look like the Geneva Motor Show, and between gold, sand, and engine oil, even the humblest city car ends up feeling out of place.
Because Italy is the land of impossible parking.
Compared to the rest of the world, a recent study declared that in Italy, parking is nothing short of an art form.
Not just in Rome or Naples will you find cars angled at 90 degrees to the curb, triple-parked with a “back in a sec” note on the dash, or wedged between a dumpster and a pole like some kind of urban Tetris.
And it’s not just about the lack of space.
It’s a higher form of urban survival—where every scratch on the bodywork, if you listen closely, tells a story.
