In Spain, you’re issued with the next number plate off the list and you buy the plate itself from the local council. No vanity plates, no stupid half-spellings and no arguments; just the next number available. Do as you’re told and that’s it. I like Spain.
A few years ago, there was a programme on Radio 4 featuring the blokes who’d bought the plates N1 GEL and N2 GEL. The guy with ‘2’ went on a bit of a ‘journey’ through the programme and, realising that it was all a bit rubbish, had sold the plate by the end. It was heart warming to see someone coming out of the darkness.
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Spike has the rubber boots. I'm James and mine are leather.
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