My mom lived in West Germany during the 70s and 80s, so I asked her to write about her experiences with it. This is what she sent to me:
"Early in 1973, I was part of a group of about 30 American students studying near Tuebingen, in then West Germany. One portion of our studies included a trip to Berlin and into East Germany, to visit Leipzig and Dresden. We passed through Checkpoint Charlie on a bus chartered for our group. We were accompanied by an East German guide, who stayed with our group during our entire trip (i.e. we got no "independent" time in East Germany). Our bus pulled into Checkpoint Charlie and stopped; the driver turned off the engine and opened the door. A very intimidating East German officer in a grey-green uniform came aboard the bus. He gathered up the passports and walked slowly through the bus, examining each passport, comparing photographs, looking hard at each student on the bus. It was eerily silent. (We had been prepared for this ahead of time and told not to talk at all unless we were asked a direct question. In addition, we had been warned to take no photographs, nor to even take out our cameras.) After his slow passage through the bus, he took the passports and left. We waited, still silent and apprehensive, until he returned, handed the passports to our assigned guide. When the door finally closed and the driver restarted the bus, the guards raised the bars which let us drive out into East Berlin.
I remember Checkpoint Charlie as a large, walled-in area, felt like a prison yard. We were told some buildings had been razed so that people couldn't overlook the border crossing area. When we next went back to Berlin in February 2009, I was surprised to see that Checkpoint Charlie was just a point on a city street. All the fences and walls were gone; if it weren't for the display placards along the street and the tacky tourist "opportunities" (get your picture taken with someone wearing a military uniform, ride in an East German "trabbi" car) you wouldn't even know it was the site of Checkpoint Charlie.
When we traveled into East Berlin and East Germany in 1973, you were required to exchange West German Deutsch Marks for East German Deutsch Marks at the rate of 1 to 1. I recall that it was a minimum of 5 DM per day. You had to show receipts for that transfer at the official rate, and when you departed East Germany, the East German border officials would compare the purchases you had made against your receipts to ensure you had exchanged enough DM at the official rate to cover what you'd bought. At the same time, you could go into any bank in West Berlin and exchange DM at the rate of 1 to 4. Some of our group did this, but given the strict checks when returning to the West, it meant all those "extra" East German DM had to be consumed in food or drink; you didn't dare buy goods with it. This led to some interesting restaurant meals. The problem was, you'd go in, look at the menu, try to order something, but they would be out of nearly everything. Finally, we learned to simply ask "what do you have to serve today?" I remember lots of big tips, just trying to get rid of the East German DM.
In 1974/1975 I lived in West Germany again, as a teaching assistant for English as a second language in a German school. This didn't pay much, the TAs were paid a small stipend by the German government. Over our spring break week, there was an offer to travel as a group to Berlin for only 25 DM. This included train fare, accommodation and meals. When you're only making 525 DM per month, this was an irresistible offer. The catch was, you had to sit and listen to East German political lectures for several hours each day. I went on the trip, but for our time in the classroom, I had a knitting project which I held in my lap, below the desk and could work on without looking at it -- this was my way of getting something that I wanted out of the time. I don't remember much about the lectures, but I still have the vest I knitted! Taking the train from Frankfurt through East Germany to Berlin was interesting. At each station where the train stopped, the platform was lined with uniformed, armed military personnel, standing with their feet apart, facing the train windows. Looking out was very intimidating. We were forbidden to leave the train at all during the passage through East Germany and the presence of the armed personnel certainly ensured that.
When we visited in the early 1970's, West Berlin was really an extraordinary German city - lots of lights, beautiful city streets, almost a frantic pace. Compared to the rest of Germany, it felt almost like an amusement park. By contrast, East Berlin and East Germany was drab: grey, dull, very little going on in the streets and lots of WWII destruction that hadn't been repaired. The German government poured lots of subsidies into West Berlin; situated as it was surrounded by East Germany, it became a window into the west. At the time, there was a subsidy offered to West German citizens who were willing to move to West Berlin to study or follow careers there.
Returning to visit in 2009, almost 20 years after the Wall came down, I found Berlin to be still an exhilarating city. However, the former West Berlin was no longer the happening part of town. All the cool neighborhoods, fun street life and interesting stores were in the former East Berlin. You can still track the location of the Wall, mostly by a line painted on the street. I remember the Wall being the biggest, most important part of Berlin -- now it's completely gone, but I still found myself looking for its traces. "