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Having recently re-joined the GS fold after a gap of more than twenty years has prompted a flood of memories.
I?m the proud owner of a 1979 GS750 which was recently purchased on a whim and a wish for a nostalgia trip back to the eighties. Back in the late 70?s I?d traded in my bike for a car (pleasing my Mum and Dad no end) and thought that was it, but once a biker always a biker and slowly but surely the longing for two wheels was hitting me hard again, finally I could not resist any longer and in 1981 traded in the car (straight swap) for a brand new GS550E. It was mostly black with blue flashes on the tank, side panels and tail piece. It was beautiful. I loved the shiny engine, which was a great contrast against the richness of the black paint. The bike was quickly run in, (in one week) so I could use the power of the engine.
I had the bike about three years and had some really interesting holidays on it. My first holiday would be Leeds (West Yorkshire in England) to Venice/Pisa in Italy via Belgium, West Germany and East Germany. It was all carefully planned.
I?d wanted to see East Germany for a long time but wasn?t sure if it was possible or how difficult it would be. Back in those days the Berlin Wall was still standing and the old Communist state was still going strong. I knew it was possible to visit but could I get there on the Suzi. Would I be allowed to get in, and more importantly out again? I was definitely willing to have a go ? being a bit more adventurous then than I am today, applied for the necessary permission and documentation.
Every thing had to be arranged through the East German Travel agency based in London (Berolina Travel LTD). Accommodation vouchers, (either for camping or hotels) and visas ? of course. So with those and registration documents for the bike, passports and a very heavily loaded bike off we set. We drove south east to catch the car ferry to mainland Europe (Belgium). The trip was now definitely on.
The drive to West Germany was uneventful. Now started the interesting, unknown, part of the trip - getting across the East German border.
The first taste of East German officialdom was at the transit crossing between West Germany into West Berlin (but through East Germany). You could only travel on special roads. There were cameras along these roads, and you were also timed so if you veered off somewhere or were taking longer than you should the East German police would come looking for you. Once you arrived in West Berlin it was like the rest of West Germany ? very modern but with its own special atmosphere and personality. You have to remember West Berlin was an Island in the middle of Communist East Germany. On this particular trip we had not planned to stay very long in West Berlin and after our very long trip that day from Hamburg to Berlin we were anxious to get across the border into East Berlin, our hotel and a shower and something to eat and drink.
We had to ask directions to Check Point Charlie ? our border crossing into the Eastern sector. A nice friendly German guy suggested we follow him, which we did. Ten minutes later we were there in front of the famous sign ?You are leaving the American Sector?
We rode past the first soldier?s hut which belonged to the Americans, then round a corner and came to a stop. The East German soldiers were waiting to ?welcome? us. I looked up and around and it was really quite weird. It was deathly quiet, all you could hear was the pigeons flying from one bricked up building to another. Every single building facing onto the square which was the Check Point Charlie border crossing was bricked up to prevent the inhabitants from attempting to escape. (A regular occurrence since the wall was first erected in 1961)
We had to unload all our luggage for inspection, the bike was looked over, we were looked over our documentation was looked over. Next came the grilling by the border guards,
Why are you here - Holiday
Are you carrying any weapons, drugs - No
Are you carrying any western books or newspapers No
Are you carrying spare parts ? No
Are you carrying any western music ? No
Etc etc etc
Finally after over an hour and a half and after handing over a sum of money for ?road tax? we were allowed to drive through.
East Berlin
Once out into East Berlin the first thing that hit me was it was like I?ve traveled back in time to the late fifties. It all seemed so old fashioned from the two stroke Trabant and Wartburg cars to the grey and drab apartment buildings, people dressed in weird styles of clothing with odd colours. We couldn?t find the hotel and pulled into the side to ask someone. The person I?d chosen, kept their head down scurried past, this happened a few times. It was only after I realized why. The inhabitants were so scared of the secret police and informers that they didn?t want to be seen talking with foreigners from the West. But eventually we did find the hotel. What a fantastic hotel ? not like what I was expecting. Hotel Palast ? five star, all windows were gold tinted nice rooms. With a superb view over the river and the Berliner Dom (The cathedral which at that time was slowly being rebuilt after being partially destroyed in the war ? Now full renovated).
After parking the bike in the garage, checking in, freshening up, dinner and a beer was called for. The restaurant looked pretty good but the quantity and standard of the food was not up to the standards of the west, but we made do. I remember that after about 9pm the whole city seemed to shut down, it was like a ghost town. I guess there was not much to do.
Walking around the next morning, it was easy to see the splendour of old Berlin. What it must have been like before the war. Also quite visible was the shell and bullet pocked fascades of the buildings. Across the road from the hotel was the Palast der Republik a hideous affair put up to house the seat of the government. It was built after the half destroyed castle that was on the site previously was demolished by the authorities in 1951.
Interestingly this building riddled with Asbestos is being demolished and the castle will be rebuilt again at an estimated cost of more than 400 million Euros.
Dresden
Leaving Berlin and hitting the outskirts we again came across these awful grey apartment blocks. The smell of two stroke fumes was quite palpable in the air. After a while it became quite sickening. Virtually every vehicle (except trucks and buses) seemed to be powered by a two stroke motor kicking out thick clouds of blue smoke.
We hit the old autobahn to head south. These roads were in an awful state of repair and the Suzi already overloaded was struggling with the potholes that I failed to see in time. Driving down these roads was an odd affair. Bridges spanning the road were adorned with banners proclaiming amongst other things ?Friendship with Russia for ever?, ?Stalin is our hero? etc. Not one bridge did not have some such thing. I was glad I could understand German to be able to translate them. Sometimes the roadway just seemed to have disappeared and you had to make a quick manouvre to change lanes.
Refueling was an interesting job. No large western filling stations here. They were very difficult to find and almost unmarked. The only way to tell you were approaching a filling station was the queue of Trabants and Wartburgs waiting patiently in line down the road. What we had to do was to fill the bike quite regularly because you never knew when you got the chance again. The quality of the fuel was poor, but the Suzi never let me down.
Arriving at the hotel and parking up outside again we were met by a huge crowd of people anxious to look at the bike. After going in to register then coming back out again to unload the bike, we found it was not only impossible to unload the bike, but impossible to see it either. The number of people looking at the bike seemed to have doubled or trebled.
Eventually after some time we succeeded and made it up to the room with our luggage.
Dresden was virtually 100% destroyed by the bombs and firestorms and only a tiny section of the old town remained. Everywhere was bombed out buildings or partially destroyed buildings, where the downstairs was being used as a shop but the upper floors were just shells. Incredible to think that it was 35 years after the war ended and yet buildings were still in this shape. We walked around the shell of the Zwinger Palace down to the banks of the river Elbe, and saw the ruins of the Frauenkirche, in pieces where it blue up during a bombing raid during the war.
After a trip to Meissen (a town close by) famous for its porcelain factory and a factory visit we drove onto our next stop.
Leipzig
The only reason for our stop here was that it was close to the town of Colditz, a famous prisoner of war camp and (at the time of our visit) now a hospital. The hotel was again comfortable but the town had nothing much going for it except this rather strange bar. Don?t know how we found it but in we went and sat at the bar with a load of other people. As soon as our beer glasses were empty and we looked up (no need to ask) a new glass of beer was placed in front of you. If you didn?t want another beer then you kept looking down at your shoes, make a mistake and look up and bingo! another beer appeared. It was difficult bar to escape from. (Should?ve been called the Colditz bar !!)
Next day nursing a hangover we headed for Colditz. The castle was an imposing building and looked totally impossible for prisoners to escape from but escape they did. On parking at the car park in town, this young guy who had arrived on a moped begged us to hang around while he whizzed home to get his camera so he could get a photo of the Suzi.
After leaving Leipzig it was time to head back to the opulence of the west via the southern transit road.
Getting out of East Germany was again another rigmarole of questions and document checking but thankfully didn?t take as long as getting in, in the first place. After a week in communist East Germany I was really looking forward to Italy.
One of the weird highlights was the number of fans my bike had, young and old, all were interested. Remember all the local bikers were able to obtain was the homegrown 250 MZ or Simpson moped or Jawa bikes from Czechoslovakia, so anyone turning up and riding around on a 550 was treated like an Alien being from another planet. Every time the bike was parked up it was quickly surrounded by scores of locals eager to grab an eyeful of exotic machinery from Japan.
All in all East Germany was a fantastic, interesting country, and so fascinating was it that I went there another two times all on my GS550 Suzuki.
I?m the proud owner of a 1979 GS750 which was recently purchased on a whim and a wish for a nostalgia trip back to the eighties. Back in the late 70?s I?d traded in my bike for a car (pleasing my Mum and Dad no end) and thought that was it, but once a biker always a biker and slowly but surely the longing for two wheels was hitting me hard again, finally I could not resist any longer and in 1981 traded in the car (straight swap) for a brand new GS550E. It was mostly black with blue flashes on the tank, side panels and tail piece. It was beautiful. I loved the shiny engine, which was a great contrast against the richness of the black paint. The bike was quickly run in, (in one week) so I could use the power of the engine.
I had the bike about three years and had some really interesting holidays on it. My first holiday would be Leeds (West Yorkshire in England) to Venice/Pisa in Italy via Belgium, West Germany and East Germany. It was all carefully planned.
I?d wanted to see East Germany for a long time but wasn?t sure if it was possible or how difficult it would be. Back in those days the Berlin Wall was still standing and the old Communist state was still going strong. I knew it was possible to visit but could I get there on the Suzi. Would I be allowed to get in, and more importantly out again? I was definitely willing to have a go ? being a bit more adventurous then than I am today, applied for the necessary permission and documentation.
Every thing had to be arranged through the East German Travel agency based in London (Berolina Travel LTD). Accommodation vouchers, (either for camping or hotels) and visas ? of course. So with those and registration documents for the bike, passports and a very heavily loaded bike off we set. We drove south east to catch the car ferry to mainland Europe (Belgium). The trip was now definitely on.
The drive to West Germany was uneventful. Now started the interesting, unknown, part of the trip - getting across the East German border.
The first taste of East German officialdom was at the transit crossing between West Germany into West Berlin (but through East Germany). You could only travel on special roads. There were cameras along these roads, and you were also timed so if you veered off somewhere or were taking longer than you should the East German police would come looking for you. Once you arrived in West Berlin it was like the rest of West Germany ? very modern but with its own special atmosphere and personality. You have to remember West Berlin was an Island in the middle of Communist East Germany. On this particular trip we had not planned to stay very long in West Berlin and after our very long trip that day from Hamburg to Berlin we were anxious to get across the border into East Berlin, our hotel and a shower and something to eat and drink.
We had to ask directions to Check Point Charlie ? our border crossing into the Eastern sector. A nice friendly German guy suggested we follow him, which we did. Ten minutes later we were there in front of the famous sign ?You are leaving the American Sector?
We rode past the first soldier?s hut which belonged to the Americans, then round a corner and came to a stop. The East German soldiers were waiting to ?welcome? us. I looked up and around and it was really quite weird. It was deathly quiet, all you could hear was the pigeons flying from one bricked up building to another. Every single building facing onto the square which was the Check Point Charlie border crossing was bricked up to prevent the inhabitants from attempting to escape. (A regular occurrence since the wall was first erected in 1961)
We had to unload all our luggage for inspection, the bike was looked over, we were looked over our documentation was looked over. Next came the grilling by the border guards,
Why are you here - Holiday
Are you carrying any weapons, drugs - No
Are you carrying any western books or newspapers No
Are you carrying spare parts ? No
Are you carrying any western music ? No
Etc etc etc
Finally after over an hour and a half and after handing over a sum of money for ?road tax? we were allowed to drive through.
East Berlin
Once out into East Berlin the first thing that hit me was it was like I?ve traveled back in time to the late fifties. It all seemed so old fashioned from the two stroke Trabant and Wartburg cars to the grey and drab apartment buildings, people dressed in weird styles of clothing with odd colours. We couldn?t find the hotel and pulled into the side to ask someone. The person I?d chosen, kept their head down scurried past, this happened a few times. It was only after I realized why. The inhabitants were so scared of the secret police and informers that they didn?t want to be seen talking with foreigners from the West. But eventually we did find the hotel. What a fantastic hotel ? not like what I was expecting. Hotel Palast ? five star, all windows were gold tinted nice rooms. With a superb view over the river and the Berliner Dom (The cathedral which at that time was slowly being rebuilt after being partially destroyed in the war ? Now full renovated).
After parking the bike in the garage, checking in, freshening up, dinner and a beer was called for. The restaurant looked pretty good but the quantity and standard of the food was not up to the standards of the west, but we made do. I remember that after about 9pm the whole city seemed to shut down, it was like a ghost town. I guess there was not much to do.
Walking around the next morning, it was easy to see the splendour of old Berlin. What it must have been like before the war. Also quite visible was the shell and bullet pocked fascades of the buildings. Across the road from the hotel was the Palast der Republik a hideous affair put up to house the seat of the government. It was built after the half destroyed castle that was on the site previously was demolished by the authorities in 1951.
Interestingly this building riddled with Asbestos is being demolished and the castle will be rebuilt again at an estimated cost of more than 400 million Euros.
Dresden
Leaving Berlin and hitting the outskirts we again came across these awful grey apartment blocks. The smell of two stroke fumes was quite palpable in the air. After a while it became quite sickening. Virtually every vehicle (except trucks and buses) seemed to be powered by a two stroke motor kicking out thick clouds of blue smoke.
We hit the old autobahn to head south. These roads were in an awful state of repair and the Suzi already overloaded was struggling with the potholes that I failed to see in time. Driving down these roads was an odd affair. Bridges spanning the road were adorned with banners proclaiming amongst other things ?Friendship with Russia for ever?, ?Stalin is our hero? etc. Not one bridge did not have some such thing. I was glad I could understand German to be able to translate them. Sometimes the roadway just seemed to have disappeared and you had to make a quick manouvre to change lanes.
Refueling was an interesting job. No large western filling stations here. They were very difficult to find and almost unmarked. The only way to tell you were approaching a filling station was the queue of Trabants and Wartburgs waiting patiently in line down the road. What we had to do was to fill the bike quite regularly because you never knew when you got the chance again. The quality of the fuel was poor, but the Suzi never let me down.
Arriving at the hotel and parking up outside again we were met by a huge crowd of people anxious to look at the bike. After going in to register then coming back out again to unload the bike, we found it was not only impossible to unload the bike, but impossible to see it either. The number of people looking at the bike seemed to have doubled or trebled.
Eventually after some time we succeeded and made it up to the room with our luggage.
Dresden was virtually 100% destroyed by the bombs and firestorms and only a tiny section of the old town remained. Everywhere was bombed out buildings or partially destroyed buildings, where the downstairs was being used as a shop but the upper floors were just shells. Incredible to think that it was 35 years after the war ended and yet buildings were still in this shape. We walked around the shell of the Zwinger Palace down to the banks of the river Elbe, and saw the ruins of the Frauenkirche, in pieces where it blue up during a bombing raid during the war.
After a trip to Meissen (a town close by) famous for its porcelain factory and a factory visit we drove onto our next stop.
Leipzig
The only reason for our stop here was that it was close to the town of Colditz, a famous prisoner of war camp and (at the time of our visit) now a hospital. The hotel was again comfortable but the town had nothing much going for it except this rather strange bar. Don?t know how we found it but in we went and sat at the bar with a load of other people. As soon as our beer glasses were empty and we looked up (no need to ask) a new glass of beer was placed in front of you. If you didn?t want another beer then you kept looking down at your shoes, make a mistake and look up and bingo! another beer appeared. It was difficult bar to escape from. (Should?ve been called the Colditz bar !!)
Next day nursing a hangover we headed for Colditz. The castle was an imposing building and looked totally impossible for prisoners to escape from but escape they did. On parking at the car park in town, this young guy who had arrived on a moped begged us to hang around while he whizzed home to get his camera so he could get a photo of the Suzi.
After leaving Leipzig it was time to head back to the opulence of the west via the southern transit road.
Getting out of East Germany was again another rigmarole of questions and document checking but thankfully didn?t take as long as getting in, in the first place. After a week in communist East Germany I was really looking forward to Italy.
One of the weird highlights was the number of fans my bike had, young and old, all were interested. Remember all the local bikers were able to obtain was the homegrown 250 MZ or Simpson moped or Jawa bikes from Czechoslovakia, so anyone turning up and riding around on a 550 was treated like an Alien being from another planet. Every time the bike was parked up it was quickly surrounded by scores of locals eager to grab an eyeful of exotic machinery from Japan.
All in all East Germany was a fantastic, interesting country, and so fascinating was it that I went there another two times all on my GS550 Suzuki.
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