I had the car nightmare again last night.

This recurring bad dream has become less frequent during my time in China, but the intensity of my phantasm with wheels seems to have grown.

Each time, I wake up with a start and am greatly relieved to find that I am, in fact, still in Beijing.

In the capital, after all, one doesn't need a car (although far too many locals obviously disagree), since public transportation is cheap, plentiful and convenient.

This was far from the case when I lived in San Diego in the US dream state of California, which is, nonetheless, a nightmare for commuters.

The city lies within a county that, though sprawling like Beijing, over-relies on its congested freeways because buses and light rail are woefully inadequate, and taxis far too expensive.

On a daily basis, I drove to and from work, a round trip of 80 kilometers, sometimes at a snail's pace because of the frequent traffic jams. For a period, I lived even farther away, and in that frustrating year I racked up a whopping 45,000 km on my woebegone car.

The stress of speeding along - when speeding was even possible - at the going freeway rate of 135 km per hour, separated by a mere meter or less from the speedster in front of me, was itself pressure enough to cause cold sweats at night.

But factor in fuel costs, car insurance and the upkeep needed for the mechanically challenging stop-start freeway driving, not to mention the dread of breaking down late at night far from home, and you have the basic ingredients of the bad car dream that's long plagued me.

In this sleep-time ordeal, I usually am beset by a combination of mechanical failure, the dents, dings and sun-peeled paint so embarrassing in California - where your car defines your status and identity - or the constant worry that I can no longer afford the upkeep but certainly can't buy a new car, either.

I liberated myself in my final months in the Golden State - or so I thought - by ditching my car and relying on a bicycle instead. I would coast beside the ocean or pedal to the train station, take my trusty bike aboard (you can bring bicycles on trains or front-load them on some city buses in California) and ride the rails to Los Angeles, where I would disembark and continue bicycling through the charming Hollywood Hills.

However, I was unable to unchain myself completely, since I continued to drive in my fitful dreams.

So, for my Chinese friends who often say they can't wait to get a car, to start driving, to be freed at last from public transportation, I suggest they think again, and think carefully.

An automobile, particularly in a city like Beijing where parking itself is a nightmare, can be a treacherous burden.

And, if you drive long enough, it's sure to give you "the willies" late at night. Trust me, you don't want that.

Contact the writer at jameshealy@chinadaily.com.cn