A MONTH AGO, as I was checking out of a hotel in Stuttgart bound for Geneva in a hot new Porsche 911, a man approached me in the lobby, like Elijah in “Moby-Dick,” warning me of danger ahead. “Are you driving the red car to Switzerland?” he asked in English. “You know, they just put somebody in jail for four years for speeding.”

How fast was he going? Two-hundred ten, came the answer—not miles, but kilometers per hour. That’s 130 mph. I went weak in the knees as I flashed back on all the times I’ve exceeded 130 mph in Switzerland....