One Saturday, he found "The One"—a slate-grey Audi parked in a lot in .
His first drive wasn't a scenic tour of the Brandenburg Gate. Instead, it was a 45-minute search for a near his flat in Neukölln . As he finally squeezed into a space barely an inch longer than the car, Lukas leaned back and sighed. He was finally a Berlin driver—trapped in traffic on the A100 , but at least he was dry.
The seller, a no-nonsense man named Klaus, watched as Lukas performed the "Berlin Car Dance": kicking the tyres, checking the oil, and squinting at the (technical inspection) documents. "She’s solid," Klaus grunted. "Last inspection was two months ago at the Dekra."