I’ve always dreamed of owning a BMW E38 740i. Not just any car – the car. The one I had plastered all over my walls as a teenager, the one I watched glide across the screen in movies like The Transporter and Tomorrow Never Dies. That sleek silhouette, the shark-like nose, the effortless way it seemed to command respect on the road. It wasn’t just a car to me – it was a symbol of understated power and timeless design.
But chasing that dream turned out to be harder than I ever imagined.
Over the years, I scoured classifieds, auction sites, forums, and even the sketchiest corners of Facebook Marketplace. Most of what I found were complete wrecks – faded paint, sagging headliners, rust creeping around the wheel arches, and interiors that looked like they’d survived a decade of fast food and spilled coffee. The ones that weren’t wrecks were priced as if they were made of solid gold. Astronomical figures for cars with six-digit odometers and questionable service histories.
Still, I couldn’t shake the dream. The E38 wasn’t just a car anymore; it was a test of patience and perseverance. And then it happened. One chilly autumn afternoon, I came across a listing for a black 1998 740i.. The description was brutally honest: “Needs some maintenance, not perfect, but runs strong.” I hesitated. I knew what “needs some maintenance” could mean on a 25-year-old V8 BMW. But I couldn’t resist anymore.
The seller’s name was Lukáš, and when I called him, I immediately sensed we shared the same passion for the E38. He wasn’t just another guy flipping cars for a quick profit. He spoke about the car like it was a family member. “You know,” he said with a laugh, “these cars get under your skin. I swore I’d never sell her, but life changes.”
Driving her home, I felt like I was 17 again, cutting out pictures from car magazines. The deep growl of the V8 echoed off the buildings as I shifted through the gears. She wasn’t perfect – not even close – but she was mine. And that was enough.
In the daylight of my garage, the reality of what I’d bought set in. The black paint was dull, covered in swirl marks and tiny scratches. The lower edges of the doors and wheel arches revealed creeping rust. Inside, the leather smelled wonderfully of old BMW but had cracks that told of years in the sun. The pixels on the dash flickered like an old television, and the headliner sagged like it had given up hope years ago.
Still, she had character. And she had potential.
Lukáš had already done a few tasteful adjustments – a lowered sport suspension that gave her a perfect stance and a sport exhaust that transformed the M62’s deep purr into a throaty growl without being obnoxious. I loved those touches and decided to keep them. They were part of her story now. But I knew what I wanted most was to bring her back to the level of elegance the E38 deserved.
Phase 1: The Mechanicals
The first few weeks were all about making her mechanically sound. I replaced the valve cover gaskets that Lukáš had warned me about, along with every brittle hose and gasket I could find. The cooling system, notorious on these cars, got a complete overhaul – radiator, water pump, expansion tank, and hoses. The sport exhaust stayed, of course, but I had the shop check for leaks and refit it properly. A fresh set of Michelin Pilot Sport tires went on the staggered M-Parallel wheels. When I finally took her out on a twisty road, she felt planted and alive, like a proper sport sedan again.
Phase 2: Battling Rust
Next came the bodywork. The rust was worse than it looked, but I was determined not to cut corners. You always have your friends that can help out and Kristi was the one to bring it abc to glory again. Together we attacked the wheel arches and lower door panels, cutting out the cancer and welding in fresh metal. The majority of the car got a respray in her original Schwarz 2, bringing back the deep, mirror-like finish that had made me fall in love with the E38 in the first place.
Phase 3: Restoring the Soul
Inside, I wanted to honor the original BMW craftsmanship. I sourced a complete set of individual wood accessories – the rare walnut trims for the dashboard, center console, and even the rear air vents. Installing them felt almost ceremonial, as if I were returning the car to its rightful throne. I tracked down an original BMW phone to fit in the center armrest and a fresh set of OEM floor mats. The sagging headliner was replaced with Alcantara, adding a subtle touch of luxury. Slowly, the tired cabin transformed into the refined sanctuary it was always meant to be.
Phase 4: The Long Battle
And then… just as things were coming together, she threw me a curveball. One morning, I turned the key and nothing. Dead. Jump-started her and she came to life, but the battery light stayed on. I suspected the alternator and replaced it with a rebuilt unit. For a while, it seemed fixed. But then, weeks later, she died again mid-drive. Over the next months, it became a nightmare. I swapped batteries, tried OEM alternator, checked grounds, and even ran new cables. No matter what I did, she’d drain the battery overnight or throw random electrical gremlins at me.
I’d spend evenings with wiring diagrams spread out across the garage floor, a multimeter in hand, and a growing sense of frustration in my chest. There were moments I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake. Was I in over my head?
But something in me refused to give up. This was my E38.
It took nearly a year of troubleshooting, countless late nights, and a dozen conversations with BMW specialists on forums before I found the culprit: a faulty OEM alternator. Something you would not think of. I replaced it again within warranty. For the first time in months, the battery held its charge. I turned the key. She fired up instantly, smooth and strong, as if nothing had ever happened. I sat there for a long moment, listening to the V8 idle, a stupid grin spreading across my face. But the first time I stood back and saw her complete, the black paint glowing under the garage lights, the walnut trim catching the sun, and the V8 idling smoothly… I felt pure satisfaction.
Now that she’s finally back on the road, I’m determined not to let her fall into neglect again.
I plan to take her on weekend drives through winding country roads – not to hammer the throttle, but to let her stretch her legs and feel the road under her tires. There are trips I’ve been dreaming of: a visit to Germany to cruise on the original roads again, and a pilgrimage to Munich, parking her proudly outside BMW Welt as if she’s come home. I also want to take her to a BMW meet someday. To park her alongside other E38s, to swap stories with people who understand why these cars get under your skin, and to let others see what a lovingly restored 7 Series looks like.
But I know this journey doesn’t end here.
Old BMWs like this aren’t “finished.” They’re living projects. I’ve set myself a routine of preventative maintenance – regular fluid changes, careful inspections, and keeping her on a battery tender when she rests in the garage.
The E38 isn’t just a car anymore. She’s part of my story now. A reminder that some dreams are worth fighting for, even if they test your patience every step of the way.
Key Mods
Sport suspension (lowered, improved stance & handling)
Sport exhaust (deep V8 growl, refined tone)
Complete cooling system refresh (radiator, water pump, hoses)
New Michelin Pilot Sport tires on OEM M-Parallel wheels
Fresh valve cover gaskets, hoses, and seals
Style
Original Schwarz II paint respray
OEM staggered M-Parallels for authentic look
Subtle stance – elegant, not overdone
Restored walnut wood trim + Alcantara headliner
Original BMW phone + OEM interior details
Notable
4.4L M62 V8 – 282 hp, 420 Nm
Rear-wheel drive, 5-speed automatic
Considered the last “classic” 7 Series before BMW’s design revolution in 2001
Famous on screen (The Transporter, Tomorrow Never Dies)
Restored as a passion project, keeping factory character intact
Instagram: @ mario_bagita
Car: BMW E38 740i LCI (1998)
Engine: 4.4 L M62B44 V8, 210 kW (286 hp)
Transmission: Automatic ZF 5HP
