– By Andy Lindberg –
What is a Trabant?
Well let’s cover the basics first. It was an East German car. Younger readers need to notice that East is capitalized. That means it was a Sova car, a product of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR).
When it appeared in 1957 it was pretty much state of art. It had a two cylinder two-stroke engine driving the front wheels. Its body was constructed of a plastic called duroplast which was composed of recycled cotton from Russia and resins from an East German dye factory. They sold over three million Trabies before production ended in 1991. At this point, they were no longer state of the art; even SAAB had given up on two strokes in the late ‘60s.
But they were the cheapest car available. At one time, there was approximately a 10 year waiting period to buy one. Used cars sold for maybe twice what the new ones did. With this type of demand the factory never bothered to update its products. (Communists acting like market monopolists?)
So what is it like to ride in one of those things? Linda and I had an opportunity to do this when our river cruise stopped in Budapest. The cruise line offered an optional tour called Life behind the Iron Curtain. The tour said it would take you around to various sites in a genuine Trabant.
And so three Trabants showed up at our ship to pick up the five passengers (of the 150 on our boat) who had signed up for this once in a lifetime opportunity. One of the three Trabies was not running very well and blocked traffic so our driver (whose name was Lala) got a tongue lashing from the local Barney Fife. However, following this episode, the ailing Trabant’s gravity-feed fuel seemed to have reached its engine and we were off.
What a hoot. Buzzing madly and careening around pedestrians, bikes and SUVs. I asked Lala whether the rectangular hole in front of me was where the radio went. He replied, “These things didn’t have radios. That hole is where you hold on for dear life going around corners. The doors pop open every so often.”
They didn’t pop open when we were in the car. Not even when Lala let me try to drive it. That didn’t go well but I am proud of my picture in the driver’s seat. It was a gas Komrade.
Andy Lindberg
andyrlind@gmail.com