Through the curtain - the cold war years

[citycat]

Just to add some images (not mine I might add) of various locos that would pull the train.

Class 1500 (ex BR class 77) of the NS.

From Hoek to Bentheim

 

[citycat]

I can’t remember which parts of the route in Germany were electrified, but we definitely had a West German class 218 for a portion of the journey.

 

[citycat]

In East Germany we had a DR class 119. Always very weathered looking and this was the type of loco that would be thoroughly searched by guards at Berlin Ost on the Westbound journey.

 

[citycat]

At Frankfurt Oder, we would get a faded green PKP EU06 propelling the restaurant car onto the train. Always reminded me of WCML locos.

 

[citycat]

Finally, an image of a FSO Warszawa car. The type that my uncle drove and we would pile into once off the train in Warsaw.

 

[citycat]

Just a final post. Among some of the items we would take to Poland were parts for an Austin Mini.

One of my cousins saved for years, then managed to get all the paperwork to allow a visit to London with the sole purpose of buying a Mini, a car he always dreamed about. We went through the classified ads of the London Evening News (no Autotrader in those days) and found a classic red Mini in the suburbs of London, complete with the classic sliding windows and pull cords to open the doors. A deal was done for something like 300 quid and my cousin drove it back to Poland.

It was a totally cool thing to have a Mini in Poland. No better image of the West than this sixties classic. Better than any Ferrari or other prestige car, he would always be surrounded by people when he parked up.

Of course, there were no spare parts to be had and although he drove back with a bootful of spares, we would occasionally have to travel with a suitcase full of fan belts, oil filters, valves and maybe a rocker cover. I got a few rides in that car and it was a great experience bouncing over the cobbled streets of 70’s Warsaw in that little car.

Happy times !

 

[Gag Halfrunt]

View attachment 68688 At Frankfurt Oder, we would get a faded green PKP EU06 propelling the restaurant car onto the train. Always reminded me of WCML locos.

The EU06 locomotives were built by English Electric and are "roughly similar to the British Rail Class 83 mechanically". The EU06 design was then the basis for later classes built in Poland.

 

[Calthrop]

Am reminded by some of posters' various Berlin experiences, of my first venture "due eastward across the Curtain", in 1980: travelling out, rail / ship from Britain to Poland via Hook of Holland. I was at that time rather ill-informed on some pertinent facts, including re Berlin's rail intricacies -- if I'd read about any such, previously, it would seem not to have registered with me. I had imagined that a mixture of Cold War paranoia, and desire to avoid complication and hassle: would mean that whilst all long-distance rail workings from / to Western territory, terminating / originating in West Berlin, would run to / from a station in West Berlin; trains between the West, and destinations further east, would travel round the Berlin "circle" line, totally avoiding West Berlin; and serve East Berlin's Ostbahnhof, reversing as necessary.

I was more than a little surprised to find that (on this 1980 journey, everything west of and including Berlin, being traversed during the night) after crossing from West into East Germany and traversing much of East Germany; we crossed into West Berlin, called at Friedrichstrasse station, then carried on into East Germany once more, and onward further east. The full documents-related nonsense, already performed at the W. / E. German border, was done on entering West Berlin, and again on leaving: repeated trips along the corridor by green-uniformed characters (in my then experience, very polite), meticulously checking and stamping. And this, happening as standard practice day after day and night after night. Having lacked knowledge of the historical background to this part of the Berlin railway scene; my immediate reaction was, "talk about deliberately doing things the hard way". Whimsical alternative-scenarioising ensued on my part, as to whether perhaps the Cold War was largely a giant sham / scam: the USSR and the Western nations actually much better friends than they pretended to be -- with the assorted "theatre" of sundry kinds being enacted to create employment in a large number of different spheres, and to gratify people's great fondness for playing silly buggers. (I agree, a notion in bad taste in the light of -- though not necessarily totally given the lie to by -- the many hundreds of people who died over the decades, in the course of trying to get out of the Soviet bloc and conditions of life there.)

Someone I know told me a story where they were on a train across Russia in the Cold War years and they said it took them days to get across. However, their train was fully supplied with waiters and people to look after them!
The train would stop at regular points along the way to pick up and set down passengers, with people living in the towns the train called at, having known the times beforehand, setting up stalls to sell passengers food and the like!
I believe that the route my friend took was a longer route due to flooding or something in a lake (I can't remember for the life of me what it was) and was routed "over the top" from a map perspective rather than "under" it. That's why it took him longer.

I suppose your friend didn't mention whether his "augmented" journey as above, featured any steam haulage or whether he witnessed steam action in the course of it? I'd think more likely not -- unless it took place many decades ago. Soviet Railways modernised their modes of traction early and enthusiastically; although in such a huge and well-railwayed country, in most respects not a shining exemplar of efficiency and completing the job: steam lasted long in various small pockets -- significantly outliving British Railways steam.

...the highlight was probably passing through Magdeburg Hbf which was festooned in GDR flags for some reason.

My impression from my various travelling in the Soviet bloc, is that all countries therein seemed really to enjoy their flag-flying !

I got a 1st class special weekend return from Hannover - Berlin in about 1984 (it was cheaper than a priv !) , and the standard LHCS set with a diner was rather down at heel. This was explained by the conductor on the return as "good" stock was kept off this service , as it berthed overnight in East Berlin and there was a tendancy for the DR to do unauthorised swops of seat cushions etc - and even the toilet soap and paper. DR toilet paper was the nearest thing to sandpaper I have ever seen.

I seem to recall from W.J.K. Davies's Railway Holiday in Northern Germany -- recounting travels by the author in the more northerly parts of West Germany in 1964 -- that mistrust on this general scene, was mutual. Find that I can't locate the actual reference without lengthy combing of the book; but general drift is that at that time, occasionally and randomly in West Germany, one might find in the makeup of one's train a DR (East German) coach, sometimes far west of the border. This was, however, an uncommon happening; the DR were reluctant to help out by temporary ad hoc lending of coaching stock to DB -- they feared (whether rationally or otherwise) not getting it back.

On my once daily trudge to work , via West Hampstead - there was a long gone travel agency advertising incredibly cheap bus tickets to Poland from North London. Now that would have been an ordeal - about £40 I think.

For a week's trip to Poland in 1994, I got a £50 or approx., return coach fare London -- Poznan. Took about 24 hours between the two cities: I have a fairly high tolerance for long coach journeys, and recall it as "could have been much worse".

 

[30907]

A comment on West Berlin: the DDR insistence on their trains running through the city would have been political (they did not recognise the division of Germany) as well as practical (avoiding reversal at Berlin Hauptbahnhof - Ostbahnhof now). And the DDR Outer Ring route was pretty busy with freight.

 

[citycat]

The EU06 locomotives were built by English Electric and are "roughly similar to the British Rail Class 83 mechanically". The EU06 design was then the basis for later classes built in Poland.

Thanks for the info. Very interesting.

 

[Beebman]

I've been doing a little searching at home this evening and I've managed to find a copy of the DB 'Ihr Zug Begleiter' leaflet from my aforementioned journey from Hannover to Berlin Zoo in April 1977. I've scanned the document and I've attached it, hope it's of interest!

 

[WesternLancer]

This thread has proved to be quite interesting, and I thought I might add a bit more to it by going into some deeper detail regarding our bi annual trips to cold war Poland, including some of the preparations. Unfortunately, it’s turned out to be a very long post so apologies for this. However, I hope you may find it interesting reading. I’d make a cup of tea first though.


Firstly, just some background. My dad was Polish and came over during WW2 and served in the Polish air force. He met my mum who was English and served in the RAF, and then my dad stayed in the UK after the war. He worked for British Rail at BRB headquarters in Marylebone, and his office was directly under the then Chairman Sir Peter Parker. He said he could hear Sir Peter ranting occasionally when things were going wrong somewhere on the system. As a result of my dad’s job, we always travelled to Poland by train using a combination of FIP coupons and FIP rail discounts.


Preparations for a trip behind the Iron curtain would start as early as a year in advance. We would try to take as many gifts as we could for our extended family members so we would start amassing things over the year. Stuff that could not be readily obtained in the East. I can’t really remember what my mum and dad used to put aside, but as a teenager, I was given the task of taking care of my young cousins and given a budget to spend over the year putting together presents. I would try to make the most of the budget, and made several trips to Portobello market in West London.


Very popular among my cousins was anything from the West that could not be got in Poland and would help them to achieve a ‘cool’ status among their friends. So, I went to several stalls and would try and find pairs of jeans, tee shirts with logos or slogans, and patches that could be sewn onto clothing. Stuff like the Smiley face, or two fingers giving a victory sign or patches with rock band names, stuff like that. Anything American was a sure winner. Records were very popular and I would go to a local record store on Portobello road and buy stuff from The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Moody Blues, Deep Purple etc. The LP covers were just as important as they would go onto bedroom walls. I would also buy Athena posters as it was all light weight stuff that we could carry.


Another place I went to was Lawrence Corner in London. A famous army surplus store. I would go raking through their bargain bins looking for any military stuff like tee shirts, and military patches. One of my older cousins rode a Russian or Chinese motorcycle in Warsaw and I managed to find a bargain WW2 US army helmet with webbing and some Biggles style aviator goggles. My dad also bought a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes to go into the webbing. My cousin later rode around the streets of Warsaw wearing that helmet and goggles thinking he was Clint Eastwood from Kelly’s Heroes. He didn’t even smoke but the packet of Lucky Strike gave him the extra cool factor among his friends.


About three months before departure, my dad and I would take the tube over to Victoria station. We would troop though the station and across the road to the Continental Travel Centre in Semley Place. In the travel centre, we would then go through an unmarked door and this led into the BR staff travel section, Here, a whole morning or afternoon could be spent while the two clerks dealt with staff bookings. With a pencil behind his ear, the clerk would take details, and then busy himself making phone calls or sending telexes to various Continental administrations, or writing out chits. Hopefully, after a couple of hours, my dad and I would walk away with reservations for the sleeper or couchettes, the port taxes for the ferry, and any FIP discounted tickets for me or my mum that were required in addition to our coupons.


On the day of departure, we would get a black cab over to Liverpool street station, with about three or four suitcases packed with our clothes for the trip and all the many gifts we were bringing for family. Although we were loaded down with suitcases, it was never a real problem. In those days there were porters to carry your bags from the taxi rank to the boat train at Liverpool Street, then porters at Parkeston Quay to carry the cases onto the ferry, and then porters at the Hoek to carry the cases off the ferry and over to the Nord West express.


The boat train to Harwich was the Day Continental, normally blue & grey Mk 1’s and a class 31 or 37. We would normally sit in the first coach as my dad knew I liked to hang out of the window as we set off and hear the 31 or 37 thrashing away through East London towards Stratford. At Harwich, we would go through passport control and then onto the boat, the St George I believe, meeting the porter with our cases in the saloon. Although I really liked the ferry, I suffered with the ‘Mal de Mare’ a bit as a child, and if the North sea was a bit rough, the six hour crossing could be a nightmare.


I would always watch the docking process from the outside deck as we arrived at Hoek of Holland, and look down onto the station beside the quay and see the waiting trains down below. It’s a shame to go to the Hoek nowadays, and see the station a shell of what it once was. After disembarkation, we would follow the Dutch porter through the passport and customs checks, and then round to the train. I’ve stated before that there were DB coaches for Hamburg Altona and Copenhagen, and PKP seating and couchette cars for Warsawa, and then at the head of the train behind the NS class 1500 loco (class 77 UK), would be the imposing RZD sleeping car for Moskva.


There was one time, 1974 I think, when we walked down the train and arrived at the loco, but no sleeping car. The NS train guard for the local to Amsterdam was stood on the adjoining platform ‘waiting time’ for his service, and unfortunately for him, he was surrounded by several excitable Eastern European passengers demanding to know where their sleeping car was. Of course, he didn’t know and went off to try and find someone who could. My dad was not among the throng though. Being a railwayman himself, he guessed something had gone on for operational reasons and busied himself grabbing a seating compartment for me and my mum and getting the porter to stow the bags.


Meanwhile, the NS guard returned with the guard for our own train who informed the group that the Westbound service had been heavily delayed earlier in the day, and that the sleeping car had been taken off at Hengelo to avoid it being delayed and it was waiting there. That mean’t a bit of a scrum now for the sleeping car passengers to find seats and stow their bags, while my dad had been ahead of the game and we were nicely sat already. When we got to Hengelo, we got the suitcases off. Luckily, the seating coach was near the head of the train so we didn’t have to carry them far. I watched as the NS loco pulled forward, and then the station pilot propelled the sleeping car from a nearby siding (in the days when some Dutch stations had pilots based nearby). As the sleeping car approached the train, I could see the Russian sleeping car attendant standing on the metal steps wiping down the handrails as the sleeping car buffered up. It was a swift operation. Ten minutes saw the sleeping car passengers on board, the pilot loco withdrawn back into the siding, and the NS loco back onto the head of the train.


Normally though, the sleeping car would be at the Hoek of Holland waiting for us. To a young lad brought up on Michael Caine’s ‘Harry Palmer’, the sleeping car always looked sinister and the start of the main adventure. It looked so sombre and imposing, this dark green carriage with its badges, lace curtains, Cyrillic lettering, ribbed bodywork and the pale faced severe looking sleeping car attendant in his RZD uniform. It was always a male on these trips. I don’t know if female attendants ever made it on Westbound services? Oh, and the destination plate on the side. Hoek v Holland, Berlin Ost, Warszawa Gd, Mockba. This was the real deal !


The sleeping car attendant always seemed to make a big deal of the documentation. Carefully examining each document carefully including passport before finally allowing you access to his sleeping car. I was always taken by how plush the sleeping car seemed compared to the couchettes we’d occasionally taken in the past. From the lace curtains to the carpet in the corridor, the three plump bunks in the compartment (I am an only child so there were no siblings to worry about. Just mum, dad and myself), the black and white photos of Moscow and St Petersburg on the compartment wall, and the filigree tea holders on the compartment table.


I was always surprised at how some passengers would immediately get changed into pyjamas before departure from the Hoek, and remain that way for the entire journey, until my dad explained that’s how a lot of Russians liked to travel.


Regarding the sleeping car attendant and my dad, I got the impression that the Russians and Poles tolerated each other, but didn’t particularly like each other. However, during the journey, my dad would have some discreet meetings with him. Black market money exchanges would sometimes take place to get Polish Zloty at a preferable rate to the official one, plus a carton or two of Marlboro Red would be secreted in the compartment on behalf of the attendant in exchange for unlimited tea and biscuits for the journey. If it was just dad and I travelling, a few US dollar bills to the attendant would ensure the third bunk remained empty.


On departure from the Hoek, I would settle onto the bunk to watch the flat countryside of Holland out of the window, and try to spot my first windmill. The first stop would be at Rotterdam Schiedam. I now live in Holland in the town of Woerden, and the Nord West express used to pass through Gouda and Woerden on the way to the next stop at Utrecht Centraal. My late Dutch father in law said he used to see the train at Schiedam while waiting for his local to Woerden after finishing work at a furniture store, and remembered the Russian sleeping car. Little did I know back in the seventies and sat on that bunk, that I would one day be living in a town on the route of the former Nord West express.


After Utrecht Centraal the train would head through Amersfoort to Hengelo where I believe the German border guards would get on to have their checks done by the time the train reached the German border at Bentheim. I may be wrong though. The NS loco would normally come off at Bentheim to be replaced by a DB loco. The train would then carry on to Osnabruck where I believe the Hamburg and Copenhagen cars came off, and then Hannover and Helmstedt, the East German border in the early hours of the morning. We would normally be in bed by this time but forget getting a good night’s sleep. You would clearly hear the East German guards in the corridor going from compartment to compartment, and then when they got to you, there would be two fierce knocks before the compartment door was flung open and the compartment light switched on.


From memory, the East German guards were exactly as depicted in various spy films, with their uniforms and loud abrupt manner. I always remember the guard checking the passports and other documentation had a little desk strapped to his chest, complete with rubber stamps and visas etc. While he was doing the documents, another guard would be casting his eyes around the compartment and glancing at the suitcases, and it’s probably at this point that my dad would start to sweat a little.


On the ferry crossing to the Hoek, my dad would always go to the duty free shop to get some spirits, and even though he didn’t smoke, he would always get a carton or two of 200 cigarettes, and always Benson & Hedges Gold. I never understood why, but later I did. It was amazing how a packet or two of Benson & Hedges could oil the wheels of bureaucracy during the border checks and avoid suitcases being opened. The East German guards particularly liked B &H apparently as the gold packets looked very exotic in their breast pockets.


After Helmstedt, the DB loco had been exchanged in favour of a DR one and we carried on through the night to the West Berlin border at Marienborn. I can’t remember if there were more checks at Marienborn but I would imagine so. I remember we stopped at two stations in in West Berlin (around 7am I think), Friedrichstrasse and then Zoo. However, I cannot remember where further border checks were made? If it was before the wall or after when we got to Berlin Ost. I just remember looking out of the window as we headed to Berlin Ost on an elevated section of track, and clearly seeing the wall and the no man’s land on the East German side, and seeing how the architecture changed from West to East Berlin.


Maybe the checks were carried out at Berlin Ost, as I clearly remember officials getting on there. As we sat in Berlin Ost, I remember seeing the dingy looking trains of DR arriving and departing, and the dark maroon of Mitropa sleeping cars and restaurant cars dotted about on trains from the East.

A couple of times but not always, after checks were completed, the PKP couchette and seating car and the sleeper were shunted out of Berlin Ost and stabled in a weed strewn siding amongst DR freight wagons, and just left there for an hour or two. No explanations and none asked for by the passengers. We just sat there and it was accepted. Eventually, we were propelled back into the station and coupled up to another train, and then set off for the short journey to the Polish border at Frankfurt Oder. The Polish officials were normally quite quick with their checks on Polish nationals, albeit holding blue UK passports, and then my dad and I would step off onto the platform to have a walk.


When I started my European travels in earnest as a teenager, one of the first tools I acquired was a T key for continental trains, Similar to a British Rail T key but with a hollow square socket as opposed to the solid square socket with BR. It was always useful for unlocking slide down windows, or securing compartment doors when trying to keep a compartment for sole occupancy on overnight trains. However, it was always frustrating travelling in the sleeper. The RZD had to be different to everyone else and used a triangle lock on their stock. It was impossible to get an RZD key and the attendant used to keep the sliding windows firmly locked apart from his pantry window. Also, my dad forbade me to get off the train at any point unaccompanied in case I just disappeared. Therefore, for a boy interested in the railway operations of the train, I could not keep a track of all the shunting movements and engine swaps.


When we got off for a stroll at Frankfurt Oder, it was the first time I could really see the train since we left the Hoek. The consist of the train had changed entirely. The sleeping car instead of being at the head of the train was now in the middle. As said before, we had lost the Scandanavia cars in the night, the PKP couchette and seating coaches were behind us, then the sleeping car, then DR or PKP seating coaches from Berlin Ost to Warszawa. As we strolled to the front of the train, my dad and I would watch as the DR loco came off and a PKP one came on propelling the Polish restaurant car with WARS (wagon restauracyjny) emblazoned on the side. It was a welcome sight for my dad as we would always walk down the train around Rzepin for a traditional Polish lunch in the restaurant car. Borscht for starters (yuck !), and then pork and potatoes for mains. The stop at Poznan would see us heading back to the sleeping car in preparation for our arrival into Warszawa Gdanska.


On arrival into Warsaw, at least twenty family and friends would be waiting on the platform to greet us. Cousins visiting from the West was a big thing in those days, especially when it was only every two years. As I was being smothered in kisses from aunts and grandparents and cousins, I would be looking back at the sleeping car, and wishing I could carry on to Moscow with it, and experience the bogie changing process I had heard about. We would be herded down the platform, all my relatives loud and excitable, and cram into several ancient cars including my uncle’s FSO Warszawa (google that make of car to see one), plus all our suitcases, and go off to my aunt’s flat in Warsaw, all twenty piled into her small flat. The evening would be spent eating and drinking and dishing out the presents to my grateful cousins. It was truly xmas come early for them when the English cousins arrived from the West.


We would spend about three weeks in Warsaw and other places in Poland before the return journey. Just as much came back with us in our suitcases as went. It was mostly Polish crystal carefully wrapped, articles of clothing like soft pig skin gloves, and furs which were cheaply available and could be sold on in London for a nice premium. For me it was model trains. East German model trains were cheaply available and very high quality. As I write this, there is a model train on my son’s window sill comprising Mitropa sleeping cars, DR and CsD (Czech Republic) green seating coaches. Unfortunately, my son does not show an interest in trains (who can blame him being brought up with efficient but boring Dutch trains), so the model train is more for my amusement.


I won’t bore you with the details of the return journey. Suffice to say just as many relatives came to see us off again, and more Benson & Hedges Gold were used during border checks to avoid the unnecessary opening of suitcases. However, at Berlin Ost, the checks were much more intense. In addition to document checks, soldiers were going through the train lifting every seat or sleeping berth, searching all cupboards, searching the locomotive, and running barking dogs under the train and using mirrors. As we went into West Berlin, DDR soldiers were still on board and leaning out of doorways and windows as the train made its slow progress into the West.


When we finally reached the Hoek of Holland, our Dutch vessel for the crossing back to Harwich PQ was usually the Koningen Juliana I believe. If the North sea was being kind, I always enjoyed a creamy dessert in the cafeteria called Mona Tujhe, a pot of which is in my fridge right this minute.

Apologies again for this long post.


So, to answer the OP. Was it a mundane event to travel behind the Iron Curtain? I personally would say it was far from mundane. There were enough characters to fill a spy movie twice over, there was always apprehension if your travel documents were in order or if you would be pulled off the train at any time as my mum found out at Helmstedt. There was also apprehension if your belongings would be confiscated by customs, negated by a few bribes here and there. The train itself could be delayed by hours. And for my late dad himself, there was a bit of apprehension. He initially settled in the UK after the war as part of the Poles in Exile, and although he was travelling under the relative protection of a full UK passport, there was always that underlying fear that something could happen and he might not be allowed to cross back to the West. So yes, far from mundane.


Thanks for reading

Brilliant! Enjoyed reading. Many thanks for taking the time to write this up and share it here. Very much appreciated.

 

[WesternLancer]

I've been doing a little searching at home this evening and I've managed to find a copy of the DB 'Ihr Zug Begleiter' leaflet from my aforementioned journey from Hannover to Berlin Zoo in April 1977. I've scanned the document and I've attached it, hope it's of interest!

yes, good to see, thanks. Those timings now would save me a days leave and the cost of a night in Berlin hotel (at a price more than a sleeper supplement!)

 

[Calthrop]

A comment on West Berlin: the DDR insistence on their trains running through the city would have been political (they did not recognise the division of Germany) as well as practical (avoiding reversal at Berlin Hauptbahnhof - Ostbahnhof now). And the DDR Outer Ring route was pretty busy with freight.

I was thoroughly naive about these matters as at 1980 -- from then on, got better acquainted with such, as set out above. It would seem that in many ways -- transport-related, and other -- the divided-Berlin scene set up highly-convoluted complexities and oddities. The feeling is got that throughout the half-century-plus for which that situation re Berlin obtained: alongside the tragic aspect, and the ever-present fear that it could become the flashpoint setting off World War III, there was also a considerable element of farce.

 

[Ian1971]

What amazes me most about some of the trips I did in the late 80’s is the fact my parents let me

1988 aged 16 they waved me off at Victoria in the boat train to Dover, from there it was the jetfoil to Oostende then train to Koln, change for a night train to Magdeburg in the DDR & then local to Dessau remember the dogs barking in the night crossing the border

I left the DDR heading to München not sure where from but not Dessau and there was a tank engine shunting in the yard. My passport was really looked at Hof as were my tickets the officials questioning why was an unaccompanied UK teen leaving the DDR heading south! I completed my journey changing at München and heading to Salzburg to meet my parents for a family holiday in Austria

A year later again on my own I headed to Ostrava in Czechoslovakia in early November with a back ground of huge protests in DDR Hungary and Poland already having slipped the leash. Journey was via Cologne, Nuremburg and then Prague where I meet a friend. The border crossing between West Germany and Czechoslovakia at Cheb (I think) was far less frightening than with the DDR. I meet a friend in Prague and traveled on to Ostrava. On that leg of the 27 hour journey we talked to a priest and 2 men in our compartment about the world I showed them my Labour Party membership card to show the West wasn’t completely decadent (yep I was a stupid idealistic kid) and we discussed the hope for peace.

Those of you who travelled behind the iron curtain in those days will know you were required to register with the police when you arrived. I did this and was shocked to see the two men I had shared the 6 hour journey to Ostrava were also at the police station sitting behind the desk area. Turns out my friend was a key part of the student uprising that turned into the Velvet Revolution

 

[jumble]

We travelled into East Germany in an old VW camper a year after the wall came down. The mission was riding on a lot of the narrow gauge steam trains.
Highlights were

Driving up the Brocken ( The trains had not restarted and it was deserted) and the locals in the pub we visited later being absolutely horrified that anyone especially foreigners would dare do such a thing
( I went back a few years later and the Brocken was like Victoria station !)
You could tell instantly if you were driving in the east or west by the state of the roads.
Some old woman running a bakery pointing fingers at us and telling us she knew we had slept in the van the night before.
Being advised by my dear old dad to take 2 half bottles of scotch as he thought we might meet someone who would appreciate them.
The loco driver and fireman on the Selktal bahn who gave me a cab ride got them.
When i asked he said no but come and see me at the next station as the boss wont be there
Pulling up the van in Gernrode station and asking the local station master where a camp site was as we needed showers
Park at the carpark and come and use the Loco Drivers shower room was the answer
Parallel running in the timetable
Shops being very drab but having some touches of colourful western goods
Danger of death by mines signs still visible on bare strips of ground.

Unique times.

 

[duesselmartin]

East Germans had many cultural shocks in the first year. From economics to tourists.
Sadly the sceptical attidute stayed with many of the older generation, east and west.
Martin

 

[Bald Rick]

Brilliant thread, and special thanks to @citycat for the tales from days of yore.

 

[Busaholic]

I almost crossed the German border on a train by complete accident in 1969 - I'd been living in Amsterdam for a few weeks, sharing a luxury apartment for peanuts rent (which was just as well because peanuts were all I had) but got bored with the place and decided, on a whim, I wanted to try Copenhagen, and saved up the exact money for a single train ticket on the daily train that connected the two capitals. I said my goodbyes to my flatmates the previous night, the train being at 08.30 from memory, but proceeded to oversleep, so the goodbyes were repeated 24 hours later. Four coach train, no booking necessary, I don't remember a ticket check UNTIL, dozing in my seat as we crossed some unprepossessing German scrubland, I was asked (in German) to produce my visa. Slight panic soon grew into major panic as the realisation dawned on me that the stop in the middle of nowhere that had been accompanied by juddering of the carriage a few minutes previously had been the splitting of the train into two, and the bit I was on was East Germany and Moscow bound! Much shouting and terse conversation led to an unscheduled stop at Osnabruck, where I was booted off, left wondering how the hell I was now going to get to Copenhagen.I'd remembered that my original train was going via Hamburg, so I figured out that was where I needed to get to, initially.Trouble was, big station, but almost devoid of passengers, and the only timetables I could find on display were of arrivals, which struck me as odd. One platform, though, had a rather imposing looking office in which sat, at a desk, a man wearing the most shiny and intimidating peaked cap I'd ever seen, even on film, so I tentatively started to ask, in English, about trains to Hamburg. Two seconds later, he'd jumped to his feet and, waving his one arm, had indicated precisely where I was to go, so I slunk off the station and walked the short distance into the town. The first shop I came across was a huge bookshop, with every available space in the windows taken by a display for a photographic book of the bombing of Osnabruck by the Allies in WW2. Turned tail and went back to the station and managed to elicit from a group of lederhosen-wearing men who appeared to be the only waiting passengers that the train they were waiting for was bound for Hamburg. Phew!! was my reaction. Even got a time for it out of them: trouble was, it was ninety minutes late, but you'll be surprised to learn I didn't make a complaint. Hamburg reached, an hour before the last train of the day to Copenhagen left. Now that's another story, but it's got nothing to do with borders and, in any case, it's so unlikely I almost don't even believe it myself, fifty years on.

 

[citycat]

Just another couple of memories. During our stay in Warsaw, I would tend to get a bit bored, and although every day of our holiday was valuable, my dad kindly agreed to take me back to Warszawa Gdanska station for a couple of hours train spotting so I could see the massive steam locos of the PKP passing through with the coal or iron ore trains.

While we were there, we spotted about four RZD sleeping cars stabled on a siding within the station limits but away from any platforms. However, the sleeping cars were occupied by passengers as we could see a few passengers standing in the corridors looking out from the locked windows, and another three or four sitting on the metal steps or standing beside the carriages among the weeds, smoking and chatting.

I asked my dad about the sleeping cars and he didn’t know, so he asked a passing railway official. He informed us that they were the carriages from the ‘Chopin’ train from Moscow to Vienna, waiting to be transported forward. It just seemed strange that these carriages were stabled away from any platform, leaving the occupants pretty isolated and unable to walk around the station during the layover.

Another memory is that we used to go and visit another aunt who lived in the East of the city. I used to enjoy going to visit her with my dad because her little flat in a tower block had a balcony which had a panoramic view of Warszawa Wschodnia station and all its train movements. She could never understand why I would like to stand on her balcony for so long during the visit, and when my dad explained that I liked trains, she found it very odd behaviour and suggested my dad should maybe take me to a ‘clinic’.

 

[Calthrop]

We travelled into East Germany in an old VW camper a year after the wall came down. The mission was riding on a lot of the narrow gauge steam trains.
Highlights were
Driving up the Brocken ( The trains had not restarted and it was deserted) and the locals in the pub we visited later being absolutely horrified that anyone especially foreigners would dare do such a thing
( I went back a few years later and the Brocken was like Victoria station !)

I and two companions came mildly "unstuck" a few years later, to do with driving up the Brocken to photograph trains on the line up same. This was in early summer 1993. A few months earlier, the info-journal World Steam (now defunct) had published a map drawn by a recent visitor to the venue, showing road and rail details up the mountain -- not mentioning anything untoward, concerning the road. In retrospect, our actions that day were not totally ethical: at best -- as railway enthusiasts on the trail of good stuff are apt to do -- we chose interpretations which were favourable to us, rather than likely to be right. From the start of the road's ascent, there were posted beside it frequent pictorial signs which suggested fairly clearly, that private motor vehicles were not allowed on it. With the signs being pictorial, not in words (had it been "words", our combined German would have been enough for us to understand beyond any doubt or obfuscation, that the road was forbidden to our vehicle); we persuaded ourselves that their meaning was not totally clear... we got quite a way up, with several train pictures in the bag, before we were intercepted by a van-load of annoyed "forest ranger" types, who left us in no doubt that we were on vehicle-forbidden territory -- enquired whether we were blind, etc. Upon our "dumb Brits" plus highly-apologetic act, they let us off with a ticking-off, and sternly directing us back down the road and off the mountain.

It turns out that the Brocken is an area of great biological and ecological interest, with part of the mountain a jealously-guarded nature reserve: to the point that in the early 1990s, some highly-dedicated "Greens" had been opposed to the rail line's being reopened for public passenger traffic at all. I'd imagine -- without knowing for sure -- that today as in 1993, one may not drive up the Brocken. (We duly reported our misadventure to World Steam, and they published accordingly, a warning to future visitors.)

Another memory is that we used to go and visit another aunt who lived in the East of the city. I used to enjoy going to visit her with my dad because her little flat in a tower block had a balcony which had a panoramic view of Warszawa Wschodnia station and all its train movements. She could never understand why I would like to stand on her balcony for so long during the visit, and when my dad explained that I liked trains, she found it very odd behaviour and suggested my dad should maybe take me to a ‘clinic’.

As regards those of us who were kids / adolescents several decades ago; and who sometimes drove "parents or guardians" to uneasiness or outright despair by the extreme pitch of our obsession with our railway hobby, to the point of our neglecting in its favour, things likely to be of vital importance to our future -- I can see parental figures reckoning that your aunt was quite possibly on to something there .

 

[MotCO]

What amazes me the most is this Moscow-Madrid sleeping car that ran on three different track gauges, and thus swapped its bogies twice, over its jouney.

How do you swap bogies during a journey? It doesn't sound like a 5 minute exercise for a whole train. Would it be simpler to transfer passengers on to compliant stock?

 

[duesselmartin]

How do you swap bogies during a journey? It doesn't sound like a 5 minute exercise for a whole train. Would it be simpler to transfer passengers on to compliant stock?

in Brest (Ukraine) the stock is lifted and bogies replaced with passengers on bord.

On modern Talgo trains, the gauge changes automatically on the move, but back then it would haven been bogie swap at least on the Polish-USSR frontier.

Martin

 

[StephenHunter]

Brest is in Belarus. Same principle there and at Čop.

 

[MotCO]

in Brest (Ukraine) the stock is lifted and bogies replaced with passengers on bord.

Thanks. I've found this video showing the whole process.

. There are cranes to lift the stock, carriage by carriage, bogies removed, and a new set of bogies is rolled in on the same track. The guage is not that different, so both bogies run through on the same track, but presumably the track widens at one end and narrows at the other to meet the correct gauges for mainline operation. Couplings are also changed. Presumably the brakes are then connected up, along with any other engineering services.

It all seem a bit of a faff though.

 

[StephenHunter]

It's a two hour faff, but it does allow time for passport and customs checks.

 

[Jamesrob637]

We travelled into East Germany in an old VW camper a year after the wall came down. The mission was riding on a lot of the narrow gauge steam trains.
Highlights were

Driving up the Brocken ( The trains had not restarted and it was deserted) and the locals in the pub we visited later being absolutely horrified that anyone especially foreigners would dare do such a thing
( I went back a few years later and the Brocken was like Victoria station !)
You could tell instantly if you were driving in the east or west by the state of the roads.
Some old woman running a bakery pointing fingers at us and telling us she knew we had slept in the van the night before.
Being advised by my dear old dad to take 2 half bottles of scotch as he thought we might meet someone who would appreciate them.
The loco driver and fireman on the Selktal bahn who gave me a cab ride got them.
When i asked he said no but come and see me at the next station as the boss wont be there
Pulling up the van in Gernrode station and asking the local station master where a camp site was as we needed showers
Park at the carpark and come and use the Loco Drivers shower room was the answer
Parallel running in the timetable
Shops being very drab but having some touches of colourful western goods
Danger of death by mines signs still visible on bare strips of ground.

Unique times.

And Trabants. I pity the DDR citizens who had to exchange their wonderful motorized lunch boxes for crappy BMWs and Golfs. No wonder half of them wanted the Wall back up. If it were a choice of a Trabant or the tram, no wonder East German cities had amazing public transport

 

[gordonthemoron]

And Trabants. I pity the DDR citizens who had to exchange their wonderful motorized lunch boxes for crappy BMWs and Golfs. No wonder half of them wanted the Wall back up. If it were a choice of a Trabant or the tram, no wonder East German cities had amazing public transport

In Prague 1987, we were told it was a 12 year wait for a Trabant, or any other Eastern Bloc car

 

[Jamesrob637]

In Prague 1987, we were told it was a 12 year wait for a Trabant, or any other Eastern Bloc car

During a visit to the Leipzig Trade Fair, a wealthy oil sheikh heard that there is a car with a delivery time of over ten years. Since Rolls Royce usually delivers more quickly than that, it must be quite an exceptional car, which he would certainly have to have in his collection. Sight unseen, he made a request to order this Trabant. In Zwickau, they're aware of this great honor, so they immediately change the running Five-Year Plan and bring forward a specimen. In the container, the car reaches the emirate in a handful of weeks. The happy oil sheikh immediately called his friends together, opened the container, and exclaimed in surprise: "Gosh, they have incredibly long delivery times, but at least they send you a cardboard model in advance — and the best, you can even drive it!"

Poor Sheikh being duped into thinking he'd obtained a car!

 

[Gag Halfrunt]

And Trabants. I pity the DDR citizens who had to exchange their wonderful motorized lunch boxes for crappy BMWs and Golfs. No wonder half of them wanted the Wall back up. If it were a choice of a Trabant or the tram, no wonder East German cities had amazing public transport

I've read that many East Germans did exactly that, scrapping their Trabis and Wartburgs and buying used cars from West Germany that dealers dumped on the East because they had failed the TÜV inspection. Then the TÜV test was introduced in the former DDR and they found out that their lovely new cars were junk.

Public transport patronage was high because fewer people owned cars.