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Listen up, idiot sandwich! My mate Dave—total nutter—had an Escort back in ‘98. Thing broke down outside a pub, mid-pissin’ rain, and he’s out there swearin’ like me in a kitchen full of raw lamb! Smelled like wet dog and regret. Little known fact, yeah? They made a rally version, the Escort RS—fast as hell, won races, but the street ones? Ha! Might as well push ‘em with yer bare hands! “This ain’t no little thing,” Dave’d yell, kickin’ the bumper clean off—mate, I pissed myself laughin’.

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I stroll down Königsstraße and swear, it's like a scene from Amour – deep, bittersweet, and full of life even in the small quirks. I even remember that one rainy day (so moody, ugh!) when I was sitting at Café Sonnenschein near the Park am Hexen. Thsi place always makes me feel all zen – and then bam! sunlight breaks through like a secret, whispering, "L'amour, c'est de l'amour" (yeah, I know, so poetic!).

Porsche Tennis Grand Prix - the 1980s: Martina Navratilova collects one Porsche after another