The King of Clubs

You probably have deduced that I am a bit of an adventurous soul. Painfully shy in some situations, I'm still often eager to try new things, like currywurst, for example.

But here's a first that I never counted on...I set my alarm for 8:30 this morning so that I could peel my ass out of bed and go clubbing at what is being hailed as the hottest techno club in Europe.

Let me back up. Before leaving Berlin, Jack's mom wanted to hit a club and I, of course, always wanting an excuse to dance, was eager to join. She decided on Berghain, the quintessential Berlin club experience. It is no secret that techno was born in Berlin; however, some say that it actually started in this very club. Not only is it a scene in itself (cameras are strictly prohibited), it attracts the best DJ's in the world.

We talked about going last night but neither of us had the energy to head out at 5am as we were instructed to do. In fact, we were each told by multiple people that if you really want to avoid lines (let me add that this club can fit some 1500 people), you should go around 10am on a Sunday morning. Hence, the alarm buzzing before nine this morning.

Sipping coffee in our sunny kitchen, we wondered if we really had the gumption to go to a dark, cavernous club. We decided that we did. So as people were going to church or heading to the shops, we donned lipstick and headed to the king of all clubs.

Wandering the streets around the Ostbahnhof station, Jack's mom said, "I know it's around here somewhere." As soon as the words left her mouth, we turned a corner and were greeted by mmmcha, mmmmcha, mmmmcha.

"Mmm, I think that's it," I said, pointing to what appeared to be an old, abandoned building where people were trickling in and out. Once we got to the door, we were most definitely checked out, head to toe by the bouncer and our bags were thoroughly searched. Twelve euros later (ouch!), we entered.

My senses were immediately overwhelmed by the earsplitting baseline amidst near darkness. A former power plant, Berghain really is an amazing setting for a techno club. As we climbed the metal stairs, the thump, thump, thumping vibrated throughout every inch of my body. I could practically feel my hair standing on end. At the top of the stairs, we found ourselves in an incredible space under red, gold, and purple lights; yet the dance floor was quite empty. We decided to keep exploring and soon discovered the Panorama Bar. This was where the party was still in full swing. Contrary to my assumption that everyone would be completely strung out at this point, we instead stumbled upon a group of seemingly sober people, ridiculously happy to be dancing at 11am on a Sunday morning.

And that's just what it appeared that most of them were there to do: dance. There weren't loads of people just sitting around the bar. There weren't tons of creepy guys leering at the women. Don't get me wrong...it's definitely still a sexually charged atmosphere, evidenced by the little nooks that are set aside for umm, other non-dancing activities. However, the majority of the patrons seemed to be like me, just wanting to dance their asses off before they were too old or tired to do it anymore.

Despite its dinginess, the room was amazing. Not only were there incredibly high ceilings (thank God the smoke could go somewhere), I was shocked to see actual windows, too. Although shuttered, light still managed to stream in a bit which kept everyone fully conscious that yes indeed, we are dancing in a crazy busy techno club on a bright sunny morning!

In regards to Berghain being choosy about who they let in, I'm not sure what that criteria is. In NYC, a strict door policy usually means you must be dolled up. As I looked around the dingy dance floor, strewn with broken glass and empty cigarette packs, I realized that this was the grungiest, grimiest, sweatiest, smelliest, unpretty dance club I'd ever been to. And I loved it.

Yes, there were hip young 'uns but there was also a good amount of crows feet and despite these differences, people were mingling and acting like they had known one another for years. Now I'm not completely naive. There could have been a good amount of feel good drugs circulating in these bodies but I really didn't get that sense. Rather, it seemed like people had revived themselves and were now onto part two of their day (night?).

We ended up dancing for three hours straight. I normally hate techo but I was loving it. Our DJ (yes, I will refer to her as "ours" as she truly seemed to be there for us, not as a job) was a tiny woman with boy short hair. A giant smile plastered on her face, she danced right along with us as she went from one record to the next. I've never experienced a DJ being treated as a real, live musician either. Most of the crowd, thumping and bumping, still managed to face her which I found endearing and respectful. They'd encourage her, jumping into the air and screaming when she did something particularly unique. At one point, she made everyone go totally insane when at the exact moment she changed tracks, she threw open the shutters of those floor to ceiling windows, bathing the entire dance floor in sunshine. Weeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

At half past two, we left so that I could go to my "Thanksgiving" dinner in Prenzlauer Berg. Totally sober, sweaty, and revved up, we walked out of the club into the sunny Sunday afternoon.

And started our day.