There are currently no viable Avengers available in Europe.
And I’m waiting… this time not for listings, but for decisions.

This isn’t the ending I expected when I started looking for a “special” car.

But it’s where things stand right now.

Oh wow, just watched him on Instagram for the first time 🥺

That’s when it really sank in: after everything, I was back at zero.

He said they would try to find a solution, but the verdict itself was clear.

After the call, I immediately checked the listings again. Avengers across Europe. Every country I’d already searched before.

There were none. At least none that weren’t in terrible condition.

Around the same time, the garage told me that an eyewitness had come forward. The hit-and-run was now being handled by a lawyer.

For a moment, it felt like things were lining up again.

Eventually, I found one… in Estonia. Used, but intact. It felt almost surreal to order a single piece of glass from that far away, hoping it would survive the trip.

When it arrived at the garage without breaking, I felt a quiet kind of relief.

No note. No explanation. Just gone.

They couldn’t find a replacement window.

I remember thinking how strange the timing felt: relief and frustration landing on the same day.

Still, I tried to stay calm. Compared to the MRI result, this felt manageable.

At least that’s what I thought then.

Nothing dramatic. Fixable things.

We talked through the list, and the garage agreed to take care of it. For the first time since the Netherlands, it felt like things were finally moving forward.

I didn’t know yet how fragile that feeling was.

After three days of calling around, I finally found one that agreed to help.

I went through the car myself and identified the issues: a leaking thermostat, tires that weren’t allowed for the vehicle in Germany, and missing paperwork for the wheels. I managed to get the ABE for the rims as well.

At that point, I thought: if it made it this far, the rest would be manageable.

I was wrong.

Displays flickered, some things responded with a delay, others not at all.

No one stopped me. Not even because of the odd export plates. I just kept driving.

I knew something wasn’t right, but the car brought me home without trouble.

They even let me use another car so I could handle the export paperwork myself.

That was the first time in months I thought: maybe this is actually going to work.

This one finally felt possible.

The only problem: I had never exported a car before.

So I booked a flight to Amsterdam, took a taxi for two hours, and showed up hoping I hadn’t missed something important.

The people there were genuinely kind.