They overtake from left and right, in the oncoming traffic lane, and on the shoulder. There are traffic lights every fifty meters. There is no air. There are traffic jams. You feel overwhelmed with simple human gratitude if someone switches on their indicator before pushing right in front of you.
All drivers are in a state of tension.
However, here I am, first at the traffic light, at the starting line, so to speak. Behind me engines are revving, and their owners are almost snarling. As soon as the light turns yellow, the driver to my rear begins honking insistently even though he cannot fail to see that the traffic ahead has not yet cleared. I have space all around me, I feel relieved. To tell you how difficult it is to have the smallest repair done to the car, or to select a component part, or how you will be cheated by the mechanic would take forever, and I'm not in the mood to do so.