When I first arrived to Spain, I wondered: “What’s so hard about the driving tests?” Those of us who have traded our money, free time, and low blood pressure readings to pursue a privilege we have in another country are so glad you asked.
It’s me, high. I’m just another American who underestimated how hard it is to get a Spanish driver’s license.
A year ago today, I enrolled in a Spanish driving school. Following a friend’s advice, I found a deal on Groupon for €17,95—a whopping 88 percent discount!—for unlimited theory courses, practice tests, and three practical lessons. I’ve been driving since I was 15, so I figured I’d sail through the requirements in February and have my license in hand by March. Folks, I am here to tell you that one year later, I’m still on step one: studying for the theory exam.
You may think I’m a terrible motorist for admitting that, but my story will surprise no one who’s moved to Spain. People either grit their teeth in white-knuckled determination or give up entirely. Those who persevere trade stories about how long it took (or is still taking) them to get a Spanish driver’s license. Many foreigners drive with temporary international permits, hoping they don’t get pulled over. But technically, this isn’t allowed; you can use an international license up to six months after you become a permanent resident. If you aren’t from the European Union or any of the 20 other countries with a license exchange agreement, you start at square one, like a teenager. Also enrolling in driving school is compulsory—and expensive.
What’s So Hard About the Spanish Driving Test?
When I first arrived to Spain, I wondered: “What’s so hard about the driving tests?” Those of us who have traded our money, free time, and low blood pressure readings to pursue a privilege we have in another country are so glad you asked:
High Passing Score
Only three mistakes are allowed out of 30 questions (90 percent), a stricter standard than Oregon’s 80 percent (28/35 correct).
Tricky Questions
Designed to test knowledge and reading comprehension, some include misleading photos and phrasing. For example, a practice test question, accompanied by a photo of a dense, smoky forest fire, asked:
"Can you use high beams in light fog or smoke?"
A.) Yes ✅
B.) No 🚫
C.) Yes in fog, but not smoke 🚫
I chose the common sense answer of B (“No”), but the correct answer was A (“Yes”). Why? Because you can use them, even if you shouldn’t.
Fun, right?
Motorcycle Questions
Even if you have no desire to get a motorcycle license, you must hold a driver’s license for three years to be eligible for the basic motorcycle exam.
So now I know where the brake, accelerator, and clutch are on a motorcycle and how much a lateral load can protrude on the longitudinal axis of all vehicles less than one meter wide (A: no more than .5 meters on each side).
This is why people play Trivial Pursuit—it’s way more fun to drop random knowledge like this on game night with friends than sweat it out alone on a test that could cost you €45-€90 if you fail.
Different Signs & Rules
Spain and other EU countries have lots of unfamiliar signs.
Nifty traffic features like roundabouts and reversible lanes come with unique priority, speed, and overtaking rules.
Tests include questions about three classes of legal alcohol limits, speed limits by road type, and sign priority—essential for understanding situations like this:
If you want to play along at home, here are your turning options if you are the white car:
Picture on the left: the white car can continue straight or turn right when the top traffic light turns green.
Picture on the right: the white car can go straight when the light turns green. But since the red car is indicating it wants to turn right and the arrow is green, the white car cannot go straight. It must yield to the car behind it and turn right when the top light turns green.
The rules exist to keep traffic flow moving. I’m sure it will make more sense in real-time. But for now, it’s breaking my mind.
He Tried to Warn Me
Years ago my Spanish husband tried to warn me: “It’s hard to get a Spanish driver’s license. The exams are tough and include in-person mechanical questions.” I nodded politely when he said this but was secretly unimpressed. I know my way around cars. I’ve driven in Japan for several summers on the left side of the road, opposite of what I’m used to. I’ve been driving for over half my life and, statistically speaking, have a decent track record:
one teenage gravel skid (no damage, told my mom a decade later)
one minor fender bender at 23 (my Honda lost, the truck won)
two speeding tickets in my 20s (gotta round out those young driver stats!)
How hard could it be?
Lucky for him, my husband’s Canadian license spared him this expensive, ego-crushing ordeal. Unlucky for him, my suppressed rage often took the form of, “Can I show you a question real quick?”—desperate for him to struggle too, so I wouldn’t feel stupid alone. Follow me for more tips on cultivating a happy marriage!
Summer Stall Out
After six months of practice tests and an intensive Spanish theory course—still stuck at 24/30 when 27 was the magic number—I took a break. There had to be better ways to spend my summer than yelling at my laptop while sweating in front of an oscillating fan. My husband and I took a train to Asturias and, for the first time, rented a car to explore. I loved seeing Northern Spain's lush green, but being unable to drive on that trip reminded me of how infantilized I sometimes feel in this country with my language, cultural, and legal limitations.
Looking back, I put too much pressure on myself to get a driver’s license to try to control one thing amid life’s many changes. In 2024, I spent €60 on a driving school that didn’t meet my needs because that’s what I could afford. In 2025, I switched schools and invested in a €329 package with an English theory course. It turns out that having a good teacher and no language barrier when wrapping your head around memorized facts for an exacting exam makes a huge difference.
How It’s Going: Round 2 of Spanish Driving School
Thanks to the extensive rail network here, I don’t need a car to get around. But I want to venture off-piste in Spain beyond the reach of trains, rails, and flights. And if I’m totally honest, I want the same accredited freedoms I have in the U.S., so I’m putting in the work to make it happen. I’m scoring 25/30 and hoping to take my first theory test soon. I’ll keep you posted and share an update when that license is finally in hand!
Part 2: Getting a Spanish Driver’s License
❓Am I The Problem Here?
Living in Spain can feel like being an alien trying to decode human bureaucracy—you're given minimal instructions and then scolded for not knowing what was never explained.
Part 3: Getting a Spanish Driver’s License
🏁 Mind Games and Motor Skills
Ultimately, the Spanish driving theory exam is less about learning and more about surviving a punitive reading test that demands total memorization, not to mention a litany of scheduling logistics.
Hang in there Rachel!!