Yes, I needed an international drivers license (thanks CAA) and my wits about me, and my son navigating, but I managed. The key advantage I had was familiarity with driving on the right hand side!
Our route was simple: Madrid to Bilbao and then across to Santiago de Compostela. My family and I picked up a vehicle from the Madrid train station and parked it over night in Cheuca area.
Though I’d traveled to Europe many times, I’d never driven on the highways and I found it trial by fire. Gripping the wheel and gritting my teeth I managed to steer clear of dozens of maniacs who, while you are passing, would barrel up behind and fish tail like a road rage enthusiast. To my chagrin I also encountered speed signs changed at random intervals with dozens of speed cameras in every zone. So a precipitous drop had a 120km/h while a flat open straight stretch of road stayed pegged at 70km/h.
Back to the lunatic drivers. I’d love to say I drove like Jason Bourne to avoid them, but the speed cameras took me down a few notches. I asked myself why people were acting so crazy. Then, I realized I’d missed the cultural driving memo. That drivers handbook note that says: ‘get out of the passing lane as soon as possible’ had landed as rule more than a suggestion. Drivers had no intention to cut me off in the right lane, it was up to me to slow down as they cut 3 cm in front of me. Okay, once I did no problem, tapas for everyone.
One final comment on Spain’s highways. They are gorgeous, and they are numerous places where tunnels cut through mountains and bridges span valleys sometimes four hundred feet in the air for multiple kilometers. The verdant landscape packed with pine trees and bare rocky crags made the drive picturesque.