Trabant 601 Review – World’s worst car 35 years after it broke through the Iron Curtain

These days nobody really complains about cars made in Eastern European nations. Skoda are now a member of the Volkswagen Group and Dacia are owned by Renault, both offering good quality models at competitive prices.

However, there was a time when these countries had a reputation for making awful cars, with the Trabant 601 taking the top spot for many people. So, when my friend Oli replaced his trusty Reliant Robin for one, I had to have a go in it.

The planned economies of Eastern European countries during the Cold War made for a very interesting automotive landscape, with streets often filled with cars made in Communist nations.

Due to the lack of competition, there was no real need for factories to produce more cars to keep up with demand, meaning it was not uncommon to wait for up to 20 years before owners could collect their Trabant.

As a result, people who finally got behind the wheel of their own Trabant were so careful that they often lasted for about 30 years, with second-hand examples often selling for more than a new models as buyers did not have to wait.

The Trabant Today:

These days, Trabants can still sometimes be found in Eastern European countries, such as parts of its native Germany, Hungary, and the Czech Republic, but are collectors items from a bygone era.

The 1985 example I was able to drive was originally sold in East Germany but was imported to the UK in 1994 and has passed through a few hands since.

It is currently not in perfect shape, needing minor work to pass an MOT, however, was perfectly driveable on private lanes with the landowner’s permission.

Styling:

Putting aside that the styling was around two decades out of date at the time, the Trabant is quite a neat looking little car.

Quite a few elements at the front, such as the big, round headlights, reminded me of the original Mini, whilst the rear end features some positively decadent tailfins.

That said, the Trabant 601 was hardly put together like a Rolls Royce. Throughout the exterior, there’s a host of exposed screws holding bits of trim on, and gaps between body panels I was able to slide my fingers through.

Interior:

Inside, things are decidedly basic. Drivers who expect a factory-fitted radio, electric windows or even a fuel gauge will be severely disappointed in a Trabant.

Being the 601S, though, we get cloth-covered seats in a glorious shade of beige, an electric windscreen washer, an LED ‘Econometer’ that works as a very basic rev-counter, and no less than three ashtrays.

Unfortunately, one of the things you do not get in a Trabant is space. The front seats can be somewhat reclined but not moved, meaning front and rear legroom is permanently at a compromise.

Starting Sequence:

Starting the Trabi is a bit of a process that requires turning on the fuel tap, pulling out the choke (remember that?) and praying that the engine will fire up.

Once it does start, the next challenge is mastering the column gearshift which has a completely different arrangement to anything I have ever driven. By the time I had finished my time behind the wheel I had just about figured that first gear could be achieved by pushing the stick towards the dash and pulling it down.

I also needed to press the accelerator a considerable amount to get the car in motion without stalling it, which takes us back to square one. I can only imagine East Berlin was a very noisy place.

Engine:

It would have been a very smoky place too, as the Trabant has a 598cc two-stroke engine, just like you would find in a moped or chainsaw.

As a result, owners need to buy or create their own blend of petrol and oil which, logically, goes into the fuel tank found under the bonnet.

In the 1950s, it was pretty common for economy cars to have a two-stroke, but by 1986 it would have been incredibly past its prime, a bit like frilled shirts and winklepicker shoes.

Driving Position:

However, I am pretty sure the Trabant’s driving position was never in fashion. The front wheels are more or less exactly where front occupants would put their feet, meaning the pedals have to be offset a fair amount.

However, there is an incredible gap between the brake and the accelerator, meaning it is effectively in the middle of the cabin and also far deeper into the footwell.

To get around this issue, I did consider driving with my left foot covering the brakes, but ultimately decided against it in case I gave myself whiplash, rolled off the road or both.

Performance:

With 26bhp on tap, it is easy to think that the Trabant will feel incredibly sluggish. However, this is very far from the case. Since it has minimal soundproofing, the tiny engine constantly drones inside the cabin, meaning any speed feels a little too brisk.

Surprisingly, the Trabant can reach 62mph, a speed I was far from prepared to reach on narrow farm roads but can only imagine feels like Mach One. However, the toughest part of Trabant ownership is that pesky two-stroke engine. Because the oil is mixed in with the petrol, if the engine is not getting fuel, it is not being lubricated.

There is a freewheel, which allows motorists to coast, however only on fourth gear and in neutral. In other words, drivers must keep their foot on the accelerator at all times when in first, second and third.

Steering and Handling:

When heading down a hill, to avoid going full steam into a ditch, Oli advised I should put the engine into neutral and apply the brakes, a move that I am quite sure is not in the Highway Code.

It was at this moment that I realised the Trabant does not have particularly good brakes, with the all-round drum setup requiring me to stamp very firmly to get anything from them.

However, on a plus note, the very light Duroplast bodywork, said to be made from resin and waste fabrics from clothing factories, meant that the steering was surprisingly responsive and easy to control.

Conclusion:

In East Germany, drivers would joke that it was quicker to push a Trabant than it was to drive it, however I think that is rather unfair.

Whilst it was, by modern standards, very poor to drive it was by no means the worst car I have ever driven. That accolade, ironically enough, would have to go to Oli’s last car: a 1976 Reliant Robin, which had a lot of the same issues as the Trabant, but with a worse ride quality and slightly less stability.

However, in both cases, these cars were designed to be incredibly affordable, allowing everyday members of the public to get behind the wheel of their own vehicle for the first time.

In addition, what they lack in refinement, power and comfort, they wholeheartedly make up for in charm. I defy anyone to spend more than a few minutes in a Trabant or Reliant without smiling at least once.

I would not recommend selling a modern Nissan Qashqai or Ford Puma in favour of a Trabant; however, I can certainly understand why people own them today as a classic and why they are remembered so fondly.