Trabant production started in 1958 and didn’t end until 1991, by which point, approaching four million had been produced. That might sound like a big number, but there was still a waiting list of pushing a decade to get your hands on one of these famously wretched devices that, during that period, were the transportation of choice (or lack thereof) in the former East Germany. You might expect some evolution during such a long production, but changes are surprisingly minimal, save for a notable late-life switch to a VW-derived four-stroke engine to replace the venerable 26bhp two-stroke original.

Intended to provide home-grown mass transport for the East German people, the ‘Trabi’ was the car of choice (and largely the only choice) until reunification gave the opportunity to trade in these two-stroke smoke machines. Despite waiting up to ten years to get hold of their Trabant, thanks to lengthy waiting lists, many were willing to part with their smokily stylish transportation.

While, as with most classic cars, there’re plenty of people happy to maintain and run these things for a hobby, there’s limited use for them as a primary mode of transport these days. Thanks to their iconic shape and association with the former East Germany, one thing they are now is a tourist attraction and thanks to http://www.trabi-safari.de anyone can sample their subjective delights while taking in a tour of Berlin Trabant tour (East & West).

We couldn’t resist a zebra print Trabi and noted a sticker on the dashboard describing the action of the gear shift, which involved pushing, pulling and twisting a lever, in the hope that we might find a gear. “Reverse is here but you will not need that,” we are helpfully told. “In Communism we go only forward!”

A shrug from our Trabi-Safari.de guide is all the help we get as we attempt to coax the windscreen wipers away from vertical. At least the skies look clear. Then, with a clatter of two-stroke revs, a lingering scent of burning oil and a rather distracting smokescreen we are off.

We set out into the traffic to enjoy the carefully considered route that cleverly uses mainly right turns for those less confident driving on the continent. Major sights taken in during this Wild East tour included the East Side Gallery, Reichstag, Brandenburg Gate and Checkpoint Charlie. Viewing the famous mural of a Trabant crashing through the Wall from within the same model was particularly poignant.

After our drive we came to understand people’s willingness to part with these cars. Enormously characterful and providing a sense of occasion they may be, but they’re also catastrophically slow, terribly noisy, hugely uncomfortable and awfully polluting.

An hour touring Berlin in one of these symbols of past divisions gives you a sense of some of communism’s less horrific hardships (it is still functional transportation after all) and a contextually accented view of Berlin. It may well be possible to get a similar view of the city from a tour bus, but why not be the star of your own show and object of hundreds of other people’s tourist snaps?

It should be noted that all this is only made easily possible by the surprisingly light Berlin traffic; the city has one of the lowest levels of car ownership per capita in Europe. To do something similar in our capital would certainly ruin many people’s holidays, not to mention London residents’ days.

The Trabi was a perfectly decent car at the start of its life, undermined by patchy manufacturing processes and a lack of development. Yes, it’s hugely outdated but, for an hour or two as a tourist, it gives a great sense of occasion and fun that I can’t recommend highly enough.

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I find Berlin an endlessly fascinating city that never seems to shy from the events that have consumed it in recent history, letting them inform but not dictate its still evolving identity. After four visits, I feel like I’m getting a handle on how the city works and how its people operate, and have been no less enthused on each return visit, facilitated by ludicrously cheap flights from Manchester (thank you Ryanair!). The food in Berlin is unsurprisingly diverse and cosmopolitan while generally remaining unpretentious. Pizzas by the Spree and currywurst stalls feature high in my list of recommendations if you happen to be visiting. Like most other food obsessives, I’ve been working my way through Netflix’s Chef’s Table recently, so one episode caught my eye in the context of my upcoming trip – Restaurant Tim Raue.

Restaurant Tim Raue has a hugely impressive reputation, featuring in the (debatably useful) list of the World’s 50 Best Restaurants as well as that Netflix series which puts the focus on Tim’s difficult formative years and reputation for being a hard taskmaster. It seems clear that this background and the stature of his achievements inform that reputation. Perhaps most surprising of all is the price tag. Of course there are tasting menus consisting of many courses and matched wines, but this trip was to be with a few friends who, while clearly food fans, may not be as inclined to damage their wallets to the same degree as me. A three course lunch here will only gouge €48 from your funds; a pittance for food of the standard you’d expect here.

Accessed through an industrial looking courtyard around the corner from Checkpoint Charlie, the dining space is comfortable and welcoming without any of the horrific fine dining trappings such as crumb scrapers, hand bag stools or remote islands to rob you of dominion over your wine. The staff were smartly dressed without screaming formality (nobody looked askance at my wearing shorts) and it was a pleasant surprise to hear that it would be possible for guests to order either three, four or five courses individually without forcing a particular rhythm on the whole table.

With our requests made, we were delivered some pre-starters that set the tone clearly for what was to come in terms of flavour and spice. Delicate slices of pork fat reinforced with sesame, gem lettuce permeated with Asian spice and nuts to contrast textures set us up perfectly for starters. Dim sum “Japanese tuna pizza“ and dim sum “chicken stock, scallop & bamboo mushroom” were playful without being at all frivolous, with wasabi notes being perfectly judged. Every element of the dumplings was perfect, the stock offering monstrous depth of flavour but working in total harmony with everything else in the bowl.

As we continued through the meal, it became clear that every dish was going to be a highlight. “Pikeperch” in 10yo soy with leek and ginger came with the instruction to make every mouthful contain all the elements, while other dishes with less specific instructions also delivered, including those from the separate vegetarian menu.

Tim’s Peking duck interpretation was perhaps most theatrical dish to come out. Presented on three plates along with instructions to eat them in a particular order, the cubes of duck are something that will forever occupy my happiest memories. The duck liver mousse complemented with pearls of flavour which came across as a turbo-charged foie gras without the attendant ethical concerns and the broth that finished the dish somehow cleansed the palate without compromising itself.

To finish, I went for brie de meaux with black truffle and hazelnut while others picked sweeter options and were provoked into happy reveries about their choices. The brie was a staggeringly intense flavour and of a softer texture than one might expect, maybe one of the most intense flavours I’ve experienced but somehow tempered in its aftertaste to not compromise anything that’s gone before.

Tim Raue is clearly a man of singular drive and vision whose character appears in every element of the dining experience here. That drive makes this a dining experience with the emphasis on the food, with no ridiculous fripperies to please staid upper class diners for whom it’s as important to feel the staff are subservient as to enjoy the food.

The bill of €400 for five people who variously had three or four courses and enough wine to enjoy it all is, frankly, ludicrously cheap for an experience of this standard. Tim represents modern Berlin in many ways, borne of trauma, fractured relationships and difficult decisions but hewn by self-belief into something new and fascinating. I’ve every intention of returning both to Berlin and Restaurant Tim Raue.

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