Ah, the one car that lives rent-free in my head?
Easy: LADA 2107 — affectionately known as the "Soviet Mercedes" (if you squint hard enough and ignore reality).
It was boxy, stubborn, smelled like petrol and old seat covers — and I loved every second of it. It didn’t drive so much as it persisted.
It taught me everything: how to do roadside repairs with a spoon, why duct tape is sacred, and what true character means in a machine.
Modern cars may have 500 horsepower and smart cruise control, but none of them made me feel like a rally hero for simply surviving a left turn in the rain.
🚗💨 It wasn’t the fastest, the prettiest, or the most reliable.
But it had soul. And a glove box that rattled in the key of G.
Your move, Lamborghini.