The K Car
The ubiquitous Japanese k-car is the quintessential car of choice for any discerning JET in Japan. These 4-gear, hairdryer-powered, oversized roller-skates come in a variety of shades of white and can be yours for the cost of a weekend away.
I’m not absolutely certain what the ‘k’ in k-car stands for, but its probably ‘krap’. I cannot think of any one redeeming quality that k-cars possess, other than the fact that they are funny to look at. My k-car is a Suzuki model. This is irrelevant as all k-cars share exactly the same shape, regardless of manufacturer and are discernable only by the refreshingly extraneous names that they are given in an attempt to draw attention away from the cruel reality that you drive what is tantamount to a Skoda Favorit’s stunted younger brother who was never good at sports and has just been beaten up by a bunch of 12yr old girls.
At the weekend, me and my Suzuki Alto Special Edition (I assume its ’special’ because it features such luxuries as doors and wheels) took our first trip together on the Kyushu expressway. Travelling at speed (for a k-car this means anything above 50kmph) in a k-car is not for the faint hearted. The bodywork creaks as if it was fashioned out of cheap Meccano with each nudge of the steering wheel. Every slight bump in the road is followed by a horrendous wobble as the weak suspension struggles to right the car. You notice that the car shudders when insects hit the windscreen. You are frequently overtaken, the air resistance of the passing vehicle throwing you helplessly closer to the expressway crash barriers, your k-cars Frisbee-like wheels providing a less-than-safe amount of friction.
Inconsequential but interesting fact: Near my region, the Kyushu expressway ploughs through a system of mountains. There are no less than 23 tunnels within close vicinity of each other, one of which is over 6km in length.
