The build up of anticipation to drive a car named “the Karl” was immense. I mean, for one it’s literally called, “the Karl”. That’s like driving a car in the US called “the Bob”. Anyways, for months I’ve been relegated to the role of “passenger princess” since I started to call Munich home (oh the intern’s tragedy of getting to work on race cars and then drive jack shit…). Now, it’s time to drive this thing!

Buckle your ass belts my misshifted consumer of automotive content, we karl’ing today!

For the uninitiated troglodytes who still linger within Plato’s Cave, the Opel Karl is a German Chevy Spark, which is just an American Vauxhall Viva, which is just a British VinFast Vadili, which is just a Vietnamese badge on a Korean Platform, which is just a Korean Opel Karl? Still following?

It has a 1L engine, which is 0.5L smaller than the water bottles I brought on the hiking trip this day, and moves with the anger of a mildly annoyed goat. It makes some vague noise like an obese American’s vague pulse letting you know they’re still kicking, but it really just fades away quickly into the background between wind noise, music noise, and ass noise.

The car has a 5 speed, all of which won’t get you anywhere quickly. But it has a pretty solid feel for an econo-nug. The throws are long but the engagement into gear has a good feeling to it. Rev matching is easier than some cars due to pedal positioning but the poor 1L revs like a glacier grows: it’s best measured in eons, although it will move. Karl does not bear the marx of a sports car (look I can’t help it ok, it’s a medical condition).

The steering is an odd mix of telling you what’s up while also being so assisted that you don’t really have to put in much effort to turn in. The weirdness is compounded by the car needing an alignment, so it’s more eager to turn left than right. You have an idea of what’s the front is doing but it’s not a car that you should be driving fast. At low speeds, it works great (no shit, it’s a city car meant for tight places), but if you try to really push the car, Karl’s brain might smooth out a little.

It’s not scary, it’s just a bit vague and you can you tell that it’s outside of its use-case, but damn it the little guy will keep on trying.

The Karl rides fine, but bumps quickly overwhelm its suspension. You hit one and Karl has a mini-panic attack, hitting the bump stops before regaining its composure. The car also rolls a fair bit, but it’s a tall little box, what do you expect? It has the side profile of a block of flags, the weight of an empty bag, and a desire to give you a lesson in harmonic motion when it meets wind.

And the lightness does help to give you a bit of confidence back. For a un-optimized as this little guy is for “aggressive driving”, a light car tends to help bring the fun back into the equation. Turn in and feel a car eager to meander in whichever direction you ask, but just know the body roll is coming like a tsunami of failed vehicle dynamics and the lingering question of “why are you making me do this! I want to go back to the towns and the city! You foolish American!”.

Sitting inside, you’re greeted with two gauges, and a dashboard (and AC and a Radio… Europe as a country isn’t that backwards). This car, much like the Nissan march, is “car”. It’s a basic and easy driving experience, meant to punt around from home to Aldi and back without causing you stress or making you think too much outside of changing gears. It doesn’t try to get in your way, and in a “cheep and cheerful” kinda way, it manages to keep you at least content and at most quite happy throughout the drive (or that there might be some bias I have towards the owner as a passenger).

It’s a little red nugget that feels inexpensive but not cheap to the point of failure. The Karl looks back at you like a loyal pet, never leaving your side and continuing to drag you forwards through the viscous sludge we call life.

We all need a Karl in our life. And sometimes a Kowner as well (Karl-owner).

(Thanks for letting me drive! 🙂 )