DAY 21 PM- TRABANT FÄHREN

The trouble with blogs is sometimes you need people to read the previous one first. Do that if you haven´t already, then return to this one.

So my fascination with all things GDR and post- wall nostalgia (and I haven´t even been to Berlin yet) is warmly received here in the beautiful East of Germany. Nostalgia for the former east (Ostalgie) is alive and well, especially in rural Germany. From ugly mass housing, run-down bohemian neighbourhoods, to a unique, hat-wearing, happy looking green walking men on the pedestrian traffic lights, these things are all quirky, retro-trendy icons of GDR life.


But the most well-known representative of GDR-chic is the Trabant. For those who don´t know, the Trabant was East German communism´s answer to the Volkswagen (which actually meant "people´s car", this being like a red rag to a bull for the communists). The socialists were desperate to demonstrate their commitment to the convenience and well-being of their "loyal" citizens. They had to give them something to make them feel as though they, well, had something.



So the socialist gift to the people was...the Trabant. The body was plastic, the engine was a small two-stroke pollution-generating horror putting out 26 horsepower. And the looks...even in 1952 they looked awful. Even the good little socialists had to wait anything from 10 to 18 years from ordering to delivery.

I had been told by our city-dwelling friend Jana, some time ago, that Trabants were not to be found much more in daily use. My main chance of seeing one was in captivity. But since arriving in Dresden I have been lucky enough to see the ugly little socialist duckling in it's natural habitat a few times. At the train station in Dresden on Wednesday, I even saw a hotted-up one.

somebody found a good use for a Trabant

Our beloved Claudi has thrown all kinds of surprises at us, from BMW´s to traditional German foods and an assortment if things that she knows we will like. She and her friends and family have gone above and beyond the "let´s just take them to some castles" approach, which is what we do in Australia- take the tourists to pat some kangaroos, and so on. Here, they have spoiled us with German life, whilst still being themselves.

All I have been able to offer Claudia in return is a B & W sketch of her (pre-chemotherapy, a look she prefers) and boyfriend Jörg, which I finished prior to our travels. At least it was well received, and I may be taking orders from various Germans...

Janet and Jogy

Last night (Thursday 6th Oct) she threw a big party with Hungarian Goulasch, real German wursts and good friends. The conversation degenerated into a laughing match over "proper" German and the much- taunted Saxon accent (which, I happen to think, is quite nice to listen to. So much softer than the "Hoch Deutsch") Claudi's best friend Janet gave the uncle (goulasch chef) a spirited ribbing over his "country" accent, likening it to some redneck hillbilly dialect. He reminded her that her more polished accent still sounds just as weird to Müncheners...

...And so it went. We were in love with this bunch.

Of course, I was a little late for the party. It was my last evening with the BMW, and I'd spotted a nice looking windy road between Seifersdorf and Dippoldiswalde during some earlier sightseeing around the string of little villages. And I had a few minutes to kill. And some kilometres to burn. Sheer driving pleasure indeed!

The Goulasch was making me coy...

Today, after the State Library visit, we went riding on Claudia´s showjumping horse, Sanny Day. She's named after a 70's Dutch Folk Singer... a piece of trivia which not even Claudia knew. Ha!!

The stables are down the road from her house, and the riding paddock out of town in the other direction. Rather than worry about trailers Claudi trotted off down the main street of Seifersdorf on Sanny leaving us to drive her car in pursuit.

Two girls reunited

Problem was, Claudia left the car keys hiding in a tack room somewhere. By the time she texted to tell us, she was long gone. It was all good fun driving around Seifersdorf looking for a lone woman on a horse.

The session made me appreciate how difficult a skill is horseriding, let alone jumping. But the less said about our riding the better- we really wanted to see Claudia ride. She has done one competition since her operation, but since has been rendered weaker through chemo. Notwithstanding, she rode and jumped Sanny, and it made us happy to see her happy. It seems to give her a boost of energy.

And, she´s not half bad at this showjumping thing either. Very impressive. Apparently Sanny Day, herself suffering from tumours, seemed to behave a lot better after Claudi's operation. It's almost as if she knew...

In any case, watching the big Sanny with little Claudi unleash a powerful racehorse gallop for a few minutes was magnificent. Those two clearly had a lot of catching up to do.

Me warming up the horse for Claudia.

Shortly afterwards Claudi, feeling a little drained, entrusted me with driving duties (!) for a visit to her Grandparents in Reinholdshain, another cute little village in the hills south of Dresden. It was much like a visit to anyone's grandparents- namely, being overfed with yummy cookies, cakes and coffee. They didn't speak any English which made the afternoon more fun. Her Grandpa builds little wooden pyramid ornaments, a well-known Christmas decoration. They're very elaborate. We received one a few months later when Claudi arrived in Australia- a thoughtful gift from the Grandparents.

The neighbours like model trains

Shortly after that it was off to visit her riding buddy Henry, at his family's multi-million-Euro equestrian complex. It made me wish we had brought Naomi. Again, Claudi's number one love is Horses and she bounded through the complex like a gleeful little tour guide.

But this busy day was running out of hours, and clearly our dear Claudi had one more thing to squeeze in. Another little surprise for me, she said.

Sure enough, a few doors down from her house, a friend of her mum´s gave me a special audience with his Trabant. A mint-condition 1986 model, which of course is exactly the same in every possible respect to the 1952 model, right down to the plastic body, hardly-visible 2 stroke engine and frontal fuel tank, The owner was a genuine Trabant enthusiast. And, he was one of the lucky ones. It only took him 8 years for his Trabi to arrive after ordering.

No longer did I need to ask anyone about communism. Everything I needed to know was right there

Although Claudi did wish he would shut up for a bit...

It was dusk, but he actually let me drive it. After years of fascination from afar, I got to experience one of the most iconic symbols of recent European cold-war history first hand. A dream come true, thanks to wonderful friends. We bunnyhopped around narrow dirt lanes in the hills above Seifersdorf. Mr. Trabant, Claudia, Sharon and I squeezed into this little piece of nostalgia, squealing and giggling like children as I grappled the ridiculous column shift 3 speed.

I drove a Trabant. It was awful. I loved it.

DAYS 19-21 THE INNER SANCTUM (and bye-bye Bimmer)

Dresden's newly-opened Saxon State Library, designed to convey the appearance of books in bookshelves. The largest studying area is below ground, under the skylight at the bottom of this picture

Friday October 7

What a blast. If it wasn´t for the fact we had a limit of 300km on the Bimmer, I would have spent the entire time listening to SatNav lady and driving aimlessly around Germany without getting lost. But we are still tourists, and there are things to do. Wednesday, we trained it to Leipzig, but thanks to my poor planning missed the things we really went to see.

So, all we had time for, was a look through the "GDR museum", a collection of sometime bizarre, sometime moving and sad, but most always interesting exhibits from communist East Germany and the Berlin wall.


Now, being in "former" East Germany means conversations invariably end up involving the GDR (German Democratic Republic, the "western front" of communism). After all, there will always be a western fascination with oppresive regimes, political prisoners and secret police, and I am no exception. When the Berlin Wall fell down, I didn´t even know it was up in the first place, let alone be at all interested. I was too busy chasing girls and cars. But now, the world looks different, and the significance of these events becomes clearer.

To try and be brief, we have met and conversed with lovely German people who were (and are still) angered with German sycophancy, the turn-a-blind-eye approach of good little socialists who ignored the oppression, who will not hesitate to tell you with horror the atrocities they endured, especially with survelliance and manipulation.

We're happy little socialists... Original GDR mural in Berlin

We have also met some lovely German people who are puzzled by western belief in unimaginable East German living conditions, spies for neighbours, and no opportunity. They laud the existence of "no unemployment", cheap child care, and very little crime.

And there are those, like the Loebe family with whom we have been blessed to stay, who talk about the GDR retrospectively with almost objective, but dismissive humour. They will point to an ugly apartment building and say "GDR architecture!", or laughingly point to a Trabant.

But, it certainly seems, most are happy that it´s gone.

"Why does Patrick keep asking about Communism?"

On the way back from Leipzig, we had another "blonde moment" much like the one on the train to Augsburg (see here). We met a very chatty student, whose name I am ashamed I cannot remember. She approached us in the impressive Leipzig Station, obviously clued up on the day ticket system and asking if she could "travel with us" so as not to have to buy a ticket. Very resourceful, these German students. Or maybe it's just that neccessity is the mother of invention. Naturally we remembered what happened here and were glad to oblige. The ticket inspector looked suspicious but we put on a good act of looking like we'd all known eachother for years.

Ironically, we conversed as though we had known each other for years. This bright young lady was the daughter of a pastor, we presumed in a Lutheran or kirche evangelische. Under the GDR, they were investigated, spied upon, and denied some provisions and job opportunities. They could not trust their neighbours. This girl, despite being barely 9 or 10 when the wall came down, experienced the dark side of socialism. And she was not backward in displaying her anger towards the "good little socialist" attitudes of her peers. Here she was, baring her scars to two Australian tourists, scars of dismay at how nobody knew what was going on.

"Ach Liebe!! He's talking about communism again"

We have, yet again, enjoyed the privalege of knowing some lovely (and well connected) people. At Moritzburg yesterday (yes, another postcard castle on a lake), we were reunited with another missing link from the famous MCG football night, the lovely Katja Frühauf. Her father is the Commisioner for the Preservation of Antiquitarian Documents for the Saxon State Library. That´s not his official title, just an abbreviation.

Schloss Moritzburg

"Let me guess...he keeps asking you about communism too?"
Katja Fruehauf and Claudi

So, this morning, we bid farewell to the Bimmer. I must mention at this point, that Germans are exceptionally good at getting to know you. If you mention even only in passing that you are interested in something, or you saw something that amused you, they will not forget. They will stick it in their memory banks until it´s time to buy you a gift, or organise a surprise for you. Claudia´s friend Uwe, the top honcho who arranged the car for us, couldn´t help remembering that I salivated over the sight and sound of a rare M6 Coupe blasting past us at the Nürburgring. Claudi had, no doubt, told him. So Uwe cheerfully lead us through the inner garages of BMW´s Eastern HO, out into the massive car park, a sea of Bimmers, and showed us thier M6.

OK, I couldn´t drive it, but to look at it and touch it is enough. Uwe let me sit and rev the guts out of the sweeeeet big V10. Even after working in his job for 25 years, he still gets a smile out of showing tyre-kickers like me.

Yeah, V10, great, sequential gearbox, great. It needs more CUP HOLDERS... (now, tell me more about communism...)

Anyhoo, Katja picked us up and drove us to meet her "Daddy", as she charmingly calls him, at the new (opened 2002) Saxon State Library, and gave us a grand tour. The esteemed Wolfgang Frühauf spoke quite eloquently, despite limited English with Katja occasionally playing interpreter, which was fun. The highlight? The inner sanctum, or treasure room as they called it. Closed to all but a select few dignitaries, this rooms contains original antiquities such as;
- a 4000 year old Mesopotamian inscribed object
- papyrus from the Greek Empire around 100 BC, being some kind of ancient delivery order
- A massive Jewish prayer book from around 12 century Europe, from a Jewish Ghetto
- One of Martin Luther´s notebooks
- A First-Copy of the medical journal of the physician of Caeser Marc Aurel (199 AD I think)
- countless original Christian Codexes from 9th century, and
- original musical manuscripts handwritten by JS Bach, Vivaldi, and Richard Wagner.

Martin Luther's notes. On the second page about three lines down it says "These Catholics think they know everything..."

Rarely is anyone allowed to take photos. But we were!

Indiana Jones wuz 'ere

Of course, Katja´s Daddy mentioned that he was with the State Library under GDR days. Yes, there were less books there. Yes, the GDR allowed only 5000 new publications per year compared to the West´s 50,000. But, nowadays, not all books are good or reputable. Some books are rubbish (I quite agree). There are no such books in the Saxon State library. And the darkly-secretive Stasi? Well, secret or covert police organisations are everywhere! Every country has them- even Australia, Wolfgang mentioned, and I suppose he is right (although there is a difference between protecting your citizens from terror or protecting the regime from opposition).

12th Century Jewish book, I suspect part of the Mishna, from a European Jewish Ghetto

And unemployment? There was no unemployment in the GDR. Katja and her brother had a safe upbringing, and were always exposed to literature and learning. And they had the assurance of provision.

All of this made reasonable sense, and you couldn´t deny it. Quite a contrast from our girl on the train.

But, the final comment by Wolfgang- as we said goodbye to him and his magnificent library, was the most telling; "In the GDR we lived a good life. Now, we lead a luxurious life. We don´t want the GDR back".

There must be many Wolfgang Frühaufs out there who are finally receiving the income they deserve. Now there is unemployment, now there is crime. The price of freedom.

On Tuesday when we followed Claudia home after picking up the BMW (did I mention we hade a 5-series Bimmer for a few days?!) going up a hill, she was pointing wildly and gleefully to something on the road up ahead.

It was a Trabant, struggling to get up the hill, holding up a snake of begrudgingly patient traffic, and spewing clouds of smoke. When we got home, Jörg and Claudi said excitedly "There... you have seen your first Trabi!" And then "I think, that is why East Germans are glad the GDR days are over..."

And I´m glad they are over. If they weren´t, I would never have met these people.

Beautiful, beautiful Dresden