I spent too much money Importing a 2004 Mercury Grand Marquis from Florida to the Netherlands
In 2022, I decided to bring a piece of American automotive history to the Netherlands: a 2004 Mercury Grand Marquis.
As someone who grew up surrounded by American cars in Florida and now living in Amsterdam, I gained a new appreciation for the big ole’ American sedan. What I found extra interesting after living here was the fascination the Dutch have with American cars; I saw so many imported American cars around Amsterdam in my first year living here that I thought it was so peculiar, seeing both perspectives of the car cultures. But what started as a passion project quickly became a logistical, financial, and bureaucratic marathon—one that ultimately cost me over €8000 and months of waiting.
Was it worth it? In some ways, absolutely. But if I could do it again, I’d do a lot of things differently.
Why This Car?
So why a 2004 Mercury Grand Marquis, of all things?
To most Europeans, it probably just looks like an oversized, outdated American sedan. But to anyone who grew up in the U.S., especially in the early 2000s, this car is a bit of a time capsule.
The Grand Marquis is part of the legendary Ford Panther platform—a full-size, body-on-frame layout shared with the Ford Crown Victoria and Lincoln Town Car. Produced from 1979 to 2011, Panther cars were built to be tough, roomy, and ridiculously smooth. In the U.S., they were everywhere: used as police cruisers, taxis, government fleet vehicles, and comfortable family haulers.
While the Grand Marquis was the “retiree special” (especially in Florida), its mechanical twin—the Crown Vic Police Interceptor (P71)—became iconic. Movies, TV shows, music videos, and YouTube burnouts made it a cultural staple. Whether you were watching The Wire, Breaking Bad, or Brooklyn Nine-Nine, you’ve seen an iconic Panther-platform car on screen. Even when I was driving the car around the streets of Amsterdam, the Mercury Grand Marquis would constantly turn the heads of locals and tourists alike.
This particular Grand Marquis was likely a retiree’s car for most of its life–low mileage, excellent interior condition and a life always lived in sunny Florida. I thought it was a good example to buy and not just use during my time in Florida, but also to ship over to Europe. I fully believe I gave this particular car a second life, because if it had stayed in the US, it probably would be rotting in a junkyard by now, or close to that point.
Will this be a Future Classic? Probably sort of.
These cars are slowly gaining appreciation overseas. In the Netherlands, they’re still rare, especially in civilian trim like my old Mercury. But that rarity is exactly what makes them stand out. In a sea of diesel Golfs, Teslas, and two-cylinder city cars, a massive, rear-wheel-drive V8 sedan with plush, living-room style leather seats is borderline exotic.
Will it ever be worth big money? Probably not. But it’s undeniably a future collectible—one of the last body-on-frame sedans ever made, a relic of a bygone era in American automotive design. And for people like me who have one foot in the U.S. and one in Europe, it’s more than just a car—it’s a connection to home, history, and identity.
The Drive Article
One unexpected ripple effect of the project was getting picked up by The Drive for an article. I never set out to make headlines—this was supposed to be a niche passion project for my YouTube channel—but it was incredibly cool to see it resonate beyond YouTube. For a brief moment, this big old Mercury became part of the broader automotive zeitgeist. Between the video and the article, I’d like to think this car carved out a little corner of online fame, and it’s nice to know it’ll continue intriguing curious automotive enthusiasts online around the world.
The import process: Costs and Timeline
To be clear, this was no impulsive decision—I made a full YouTube video documenting every step of the import process, which later got featured in The Drive. Still, even with preparation, the complexity and hidden costs surprised me a bit.
Here’s an overview of the timeline of the entire process—from the day it left Florida to when I could finally drive it legally in the Netherlands, and what it cost.
Yikes. I probably could have bought another clean Mercury Grand Marquis for that amount of money; it was an absurd amount to get this car over to Amsterdam, but once it left Florida, I was committed. Not only was I doing this for the story, the video, and the experience, but I also wanted to give this car a second life. These are typically not appreciated in the US, especially in Florida, and most would become quickly dilapidated. But I knew that whomever bought this from me in The Netherlands would take care of it in ways no one in the US would, and they would appreciate its uniqueness and its story…A story that I had the privilege to shape.
Reflecting Back on Lessons Learned: What I Wish I Knew Before
Inspections Are Brutal—Plan for European Standards
The Dutch registration authority (RDW) and German TÜV both require that vehicles meet strict safety and environmental standards. That meant rear fog lights, side turn signals, and a CO2 emissions measurement—I knew these would be required, but it took longer than I thought and cost a bit more than I originally planned for. Even things like a slight exhaust leak, and flexible play in the steering wheel (beyond certain tolerances) were strict road safety requirements I probably would not have considered.
If I were to do this again, I’d absolutely handle all these modifications in the US before shipping, where it would’ve been cheaper and easier to find parts and labor. Even something like the headlights, which probably could have been cleaned up or cheaply replaced in the US, cost me a lot more to fix on this side of the Atlantic.
Desirability Matters
Let’s be honest—Mercury Grand Marquis doesn’t carry the same cult appeal overseas as the Crown Vic Police Interceptor. If I had brought over a blacked-out P71 instead, I might’ve had a much easier time selling the idea (or even selling the car). Do your market research.
In hindsight, I probably should’ve chosen a model with more recognition or demand in Europe. That being said, the Crown Vics that were within my price range in the US were in pretty rough shape. Those are workhorses that are used and abused by police departments and I wasn’t willing to take that risk in this endeavour. But to this day, the Crown Vic is still more desirable than the Grand Marquis, especially with their increasing scarcity (as of 2025, almost all Crown Vics have been retired from most police departments in the US).
The Sale: It Took a While
I never planned to keep the Grand Marquis forever. This was a passion project, not a long-term garage queen. After all, I live in Amsterdam and owning even one normal European car is enough trouble, let alone a second big ass American sedan. My goal was to experience the process, make a video, and do something very few people in Europe have done (and documented online) to give this car a unique story.
But selling the car? That was tougher than expected.
It took me about a year to sell it. The biggest challenge was finding the right buyer—someone who appreciated the uniqueness of the car and was willing to take on an American V8 sedan in the Netherlands. I had to continuously drop the price over time, eventually accepting less than I originally hoped. But in the end, it went to a good home and to someone who I knew would appreciate the car for what it is.
So where is the car now?
As of this writing in 2025, the car is still with the Dutch owner that bought it from me. I’m still in contact with him and hope to see the car again soon, but it’s still running and on the roads of the Netherlands. It’s still mechanically running and driving well, albeit requiring some bodywork these days. There’s some rust that needs to be taken care of, which is to be expected with these cars. As I said in my original video about the car: the body would fall apart before the engine does.
Final Thoughts
Despite the cost and complexity, this was a cool experience. To drive the same car on two different continents, in two different contexts, one where it blends in with everything (Florida) and one where it turns more heads than a Ferrari. This was more than just importing a car. It was about bringing a piece of American automotive history to European streets—and documenting the entire journey for others to learn from. On top of all of this, I got to meet some really cool people and make some new friends through this process, and that’s invaluable to me.
Was it worth it financially? Definitely not.
Was it worth it for the experience, and the story? And for the life the car lives now? 100%.
But the best part? I believe I’m one of the only people on the internet to document this process in such detail, step-by-step, from the U.S. port to Dutch plates. People import cars every day—but few actually walk you through the numbers, the paperwork, the headaches, and the victories.
Have questions or thinking about importing a car into the EU? Drop a comment or check out my video for more details. I’m happy to share everything I learned the hard way.
I wish I had made more youtube videos with this car; I do miss it every now and then. If you’re curious, here’s the original video on YouTube that tells the full story, and other YouTube videos I made with the car.