From Jeep Life to Car-Free
I used to be a Jeep Wrangler guy.
Like, Mr. Jeep. Lift kits, oversized tires, trail-rated badges, the whole “this vehicle defines me” vibe. I owned three over the years and tricked out every single one of them. I even named them! My Jeep wasn’t just how I got around—it was a mobile expression of my identity.
Now? I live in the Netherlands. I don’t own a car. I don’t drive. And the weirdest part?
I don’t mind not driving in the Netherlands. Not really.
A Different Kind of Freedom
Sure, I get a pang of nostalgia now and then—usually when I spot a Wrangler parked somewhere at the beach. (By the way, it’s never topless or doorless, which honestly feels like a tragedy. That’s the whole point of a Jeep, isn’t it? It’s not like they’re cheap or practical. You get one because you want to drive it naked, wind in your hair—or, in my case, beard, bugs in your teeth, stereo blasting Zeppelin while you shoot up some dirt road to nowhere.) But here, in the land of bikes and trams and neatly marked pedestrian crossings, that version of me doesn’t make much sense anymore.
And yet… I don’t miss it. Not really.
There’s a kind of peace that comes from not having to deal with traffic, gas prices, parking, insurance, oil changes, and all the little surprises that come with owning a car in America. Living in the Netherlands has rewired how I think about mobility altogether. It’s not just easier without a car—it’s better. And that’s something I never expected to say about not driving in the Netherlands.
Plugged In, Not Stranded
If I want to go to the grocery store, I walk.
If I want to go to the beach, I bike.
If I want to go to the other side of town, I take a tram.
If I want to visit Amsterdam or Rotterdam or some random place that found my algorithm at 1am, there’s a train or bus or some other well-oiled piece of Dutch infrastructure that’ll get me there—no stress, no road rage.
There’s a kind of freedom in that.
Not the big American freedom of roaring down the highway with your arm out the window and your Jeep covered in mud…
But a quiet freedom. A gentle one.
A freedom from maintenance, from monthly payments, from having to worry about whether some inconsiderate asshat is going to ding your door in a parking lot.
A freedom to just exist in a place, and let the systems carry you.
Designed to Deter—And That’s the Point
The wildest part?
This country is engineered for this kind of life. The sidewalks, the bike lanes, the train schedules—they’re not afterthoughts. They’re the plan.
And while the Netherlands absolutely has plenty of cars and plenty of drivers, it almost feels like the entire system is designed to discourage car ownership. Between high taxes, expensive fuel, pricey insurance, limited street parking, environmental zones, and city tolls, the message is pretty clear: “If you really need a car, fine. But…you probably don’t.”
It’s the opposite of the U.S., where car culture is not just accepted—it’s actively enabled. Wide roads, cheap gas (relatively speaking, of course…and also dependent on which part of the election cycle we’re in), plenty of parking, drive-thrus for everything from burgers to bank deposits. In America, not having a car makes life nearly impossible or at least incredibly difficult. Here, not driving in the Netherlands is not only doable—it’s logical.
The Money Side of It
And that brings me to the money.
Not driving in the Netherlands saves me a ton.
Even with the higher cost of living and taxes you hear about in Northern Europe, skipping the car easily shaves off €500 to €1,000 per month in potential expenses. That’s not pocket change. That’s insurance, fuel, road taxes, parking permits, repairs—and that’s before you even talk about a car payment.
It’s a massive line item that just… disappears.
And yes, those Dutch taxes everyone complains about? They fund the infrastructure that lets me live this way. The trains, the trams, the bike lanes, the walkable cities—they’re not magic: they’re policy. And I’d much rather pay into a system that works than one that leaves me stranded without a vehicle.
From 4×4 to e-Bike
So yeah, I miss my Jeep sometimes. I miss the version of me that felt cool and capable behind the wheel, conquering trails and roaming the mountains and the valleys at will. And if I ever move back to the States for good, a new Jeep Wrangler will be my first purchase. Likely the hybrid version. And probably orange.
But I like this version of me too.
The one who walks more. Who notices things.
Who gets on a train and watches the flat, green countryside roll by like a moving postcard.
The one who, somehow, found peace in not driving in the Netherlands.
