1963: Ready for take-off on our 2,000 km/1,250 miles trip to Northern Norway; a seven days drive. After the first day, half of the rear mud flaps were gone.
1965: My mother and my sister Randi. And the Wartburg!
After the war, goods were rationed in Norway. The rationing was gradually phased out over the years, but the thing that was rationed longest was - you guessed it - cars! It was not until 1961 that we did not have to apply for a special permit to buy a new car. The authorities wanted up until then to control the import of costly goods, as this meant bringing currency out of the country etc. But when doing business with the Eastern Europe we did not want their currency, and traded goods for goods. As a result, Norwegian roads were for a couple of decades - well, not crowded really, as cars were not plentiful anyway - but still quite swarmed by Skodas, Pobedas, Volgas, Moskwitches etc. Because of trade politics, these cars were simply easier to get a permit for.
So when my parents got their first car in 1960, it was this second-hand 1959 Wartburg, with a two-stroke 900 cc engine of 37 wild horses. I was five at the time, and grew up with that car. The Wartburg was something as extraordinary as a beautiful Eastern European car (to my eyes anyway), with corduroy seats and interior trim of dark wood. When entering the '70s, the body was still in excellent condition, but under the hood it was another story. The rest of the family hoped for - not a new car (impossible thought!), but certainly a newer, and preferably of western origin this time. Then one day in 1971 my father came home from work very happy: He had come across a 1964 model, with low mileage and in generally good condition. Dirt cheap, too. There was only one minor inconvenience: The front was smashed...
So, during the Easter holiday that year, my father and I borrowed the auto garage at the power plant where he worked, took the two cars completely apart, sorted out the best parts, reconditioned them and built up a 'new' car. This was possible because this out-of-date car had an internal frame; a core we could strip down to - not like modern unibody cars, where you just end up with a heap of parts. When finished, we took it tongue-in-cheek down to the traffic examiner and got it approved without remarks. The 'new' one even got most of the '64 model's engine, meaning power was upgraded to 50 HP - a real racer! Our comradeship in the garage with dad teaching me auto mechanics still represents one of my best boyhood memories. But disaster would soon strike, as he had a near-fatal accident at work only two years later. While in hospital he instructed me to sell the Wartburg, with all its quirks he knew he would never drive it again. So I let the proud product of "Brox Auto Restoration & Son" slip through my hands for pocket money, something I have deeply regretted ever since. By now the Wartburgs are since long gone from the roads, and the blue smoke from the two-stroke engines with them.
When visiting Berlin Dec. 2000 I found Minichamps' 1:43 scale model. It even had (roughly) the correct colour! Guess what my father got for Christmas? Heck, I even got one for myself: In case his falls apart, perhaps we can once again make a new one out of two-?
Ours was not exactly like this one, as ours was a 4-door saloon. But the beautiful two-tone paint job and the great dental work still make this one very similar.
When called for, it could even impersonate racecars. In spite of my many requests, dad never drove ours like this. >Sigh<
After the Wartburg was sold, my father needed a car with automatic and power steering and got this 1974 Volvo 142 Luxe. Picture taken ca. 1975, my parents and my youngest sisters have come to meet me at the ferry. Car taken over by my eldest sister 1987, totalled in a front-to-front crash 1988. It being a Volvo, everybody in this car walked away. I still got the keys as a memento.
