TXL for Tegel. You’ve just landed in a post-war location where you’re taking pictures with your smartphone. You are in an empty space zone where the wastelands link the 50s to the year of 2000. You come across some graffitis or a small group of junkies and feel as if you were in the 90s. Welcome to Berlin.
Whatever your sexual orientation might be and especially if it tends to be variable, you will admire the walls in pink fur and other leopard inlays at Roses‘. As the Lonely Planet says, it’s completely polysexual. You could meet my friend Felix, who sticks to me all night, especially when I took off my t-shirt (not to die of hyperthermia), while explaining how my friend Rachelle is hot.
If you think that – dancing in an apartment turned into a squat that turned into a club, with a row of different lounges with different themes such as dance floors, bars, wrought iron bed, crucifix in light garland, chandelier covered with peacock feathers and an incredible sound – is quite acceptable for an early evening, then head to the Salon zur Wilden Renate. If by any chance you happen to wear that little sweater that your grandmother had knitted for your mother in the 80s and you accidentally took that golden jacket made out of a survival blanket, you can also head to Kater Blau. Around 4 o’clock, get ready to reach the Watergate. It’s more touristic (some dare to wear a navy t-shirt), but the gigs are generally excellent. And see the sunrise on the water (or from the floating terrace in the summer) …
The Berliners around you are in great shape: the combination of bio-vegan-gluten-free-lactose-free and some food supplements in the evening is a total success. You’re half way there. You ate gluten-free and thought about supplements. You are good to spend the afternoon at Sysiphos. It’s the same spirit as the Renate, but mostly outside. You thought of taking a little blanket to nap in the sand while others enjoy the outdoor dance floor. My friend Rachelle is more into massage. Felix is, as usual, undecided. You will stay all day and the evening at Sysiphos, or, at a time between midnight and 4am, you need a bit more aggressive beat and concrete, a lot of concrete, a desire for an underground parking lot, you’ll head to the Trésor.
The hour of communion at the undisputed temple of the Berlin scene has arrived. You are in front of the doors of the Berghain. You have about 9 chances out of 10 to be turned down, that’s why you show up at 6pm, when there is no more than 10 minutes of queueing. If you manage to get in, you have touched the Holy Grail. Everyone says it, I’m just repeating it (and approving): one of the best sound systems in the world, for the best DJs in a huge concrete box of wire floors and faux leather benches in which evolves a crowd that carries the art of mixing leather, latex and lace to its quintessence.
Photography © Elodie Schindler & Idaho Menu