In Spain, there is a legal difference between professional and non-professional drivers. Professional drivers, like professional vehicles, are subject to tighter restrictions and more frequent testing than non-professional drivers and vehicles. This means there are differences in the renewal periods for driving licences. In my case, for instance, as an amateur, my car licence lasted 10 years until I became 65 years old, and then, as the curvature of my spine increased, the validity reduced from 10 to 5 years. For the slightly larger vehicle categories on my licence, the renewal period changed from 5 years to 3 years as I passed that milestone birthday.
A significant UK/Spain difference, unless things have changed in the UK, is that renewing the licence here involves a sort of health check—it's supposed to assess your coordination and your mental and physical aptitude to drive. Once you have passed the initial test (or, as in my case, exchanged a UK licence for a Spanish one), there is no need to retake the practical or theoretical parts of the driving test at licence renewal time but you do have to prove that you are fit to drive by passing a "psychophysical aptitude test". You can go to any licensed CRCs (Centros de Reconocimiento de Conductores), which are dotted around Spain. We have two in Pinoso.
I have never had the least difficulty passing the range of tests for renewing my licence so, when, a couple of weeks ago, the traffic people sent me a message to say that I could renew my licence from such and such a date, I just popped into the office without considering the consequences of my not passing.
The first thing was, as I went into the building, that I met someone coming out whom I first met years ago in a Spanish class. We were chatting in the doorway of the office. The woman who does the tests understood enough of our overheard conversation in English to pull him back. He'd told me he'd had an eye operation and no longer needed to wear corrective lenses (glasses or contacts). His licence said that he did so, if he'd been stopped by the Guardia Civil, he might have needed to explain why he wasn't wearing specs or lenses. She changed his licence accordingly. She also heard me mention that I'd had cancer, so I was told I needed something from my oncologist to say he saw no reason for the cancer treatment to affect my driving. I had to do that before I could take the actual tests.
I think I've done these tests four, maybe five times now. I've certainly done them in Pinoso at the same place the last three times. The process has never been quite the same; at each visit there are slightly different questions and tests. There are reflex and a coordination tests using computer graphics that make the original Space Invaders (Google it) look sophisticated. When you go "off track," there's a beep to warn you. I could have sworn that the device was on constant beep. Then there was an eye test; the administrator pointed to a line of letters. It was the one below the one I could read easily. "No worries," she said, "that's good enough, but maybe you should go to the optician for a check up." Last time, I'm sure they just asked me to read something on a distant wall. It was similar with the hearing test; I had to sit in a soundproof box, put on headphones, and press a button when I heard a beep. I have no idea what percentage of the beeps I heard, but she said my hearing was okay. I know it has worsened considerably because of cancer treatment. It was only as I listened for the beeps that I suddenly realised that a failure might endanger my "ordinary" car licence, which was valid until 2027 (on the new licence it will be valid till 2030). I also wondered if the C and C1 classes were, maybe, a bit stricter and had been designed for "professional" drivers.
Anyway, after being freed from the soundproof cabin—having answered truthfully that I had not drunk any alcohol for months—all seemed well. She took my photo for the new licence and gave me a bit of paper which allows me to drive in Spain for six months. She also returned my current, plastic licence, even though the computerised application has the effect of instantly cancelling the old licence on the DGT (the traffic authorities) system. As she did so, she mentioned that licences are usually replaced —even in worst-case scenarios—in under three months.
Because I was writing this I just checked and the application on my mobile phone from the DGT (MiDGT) has already updated so, if I were to be stopped I have both my driving licence and the car documentation on me to prove that everything is legal.
