For years I’ve had a keen eye for licence plates. Back in the UK I’d find myself, almost subconsciously, checking them all the time. You get so many good ones. Pure vanity aside, plates like “B16 BOB”, “BO55 MRK”, there are matching his-and-hers sets, initials, business references. Some can get super creative as well. I remember when we had windows fitted and two vans showed up with something along the lines of “S4 SSH” on one and “CA5E WIN” on the other.

For years I’ve had a keen eye for licence plates. Back in the UK I’d find myself, almost subconsciously, checking them all the time. Pure vanity aside, plates like “B16 BOB” or “BO55 MRK”, you get so many good ones. There are matching his-and-hers sets, initials, business references. Some can get super creative as well. I remember when we had windows fitted and two vans showed up with something along the lines of “S4 SSH” on one and “CA5E WIN” on the other.

It all started when I was walking past a long-gone establishment on Home Street in Edinburgh and realised what, brace yourself, “PU51 BAR” on one of those ridiculously stretched limos parked there was referring to.

The UK system must be the best in the entire world. Not only do you get geographical distinction and the date baked into the sequence (which makes it future-proof), but it also allows for that creativity and the licence-plate game that I like so much.

Here in Poland, the sequences are not quite as generous. Sure, you can have a custom plate, three to five characters of your choice, but that kind of kills the game for me. Instead, I went to our DVLA equivalent and kindly asked them to find a plate with “555” in it. Twenty-five minutes and two boxes of chocolates later, I got “KK 5550V”, which goes nicely with “PY 20555” on the Hawk.

• Impreza
• Gc8
• Type-R