How did the German capital become Europe's sex tourism mecca for gays and straights alike? A tour of underground clubs, dark rooms, bathhouses.
Insomnia
To gain entry to the erotic club called Insomnia on
Alt-Tempelhof Street, you ring the bell and hope the door opens. After you pass the test and shed any extraneous clothing in the locker room, you enter a square space that is painted red. And there you find people dancing, nice music and a laser-light
show. Most of the men are dressed. Most of the women are a bit scantily clad. On Sundays, mass orgies are held here, and the price of admission varies: 80 euros for a man, 40 for a couple and no charge for women. But for the regular Saturday bash,
admission is 17 euros across the board.
Things seem a little dull, but when I go to order a drink at the bar, I notice that a man's head is planted between the legs of the panty-less girl beside me. Massive curtains hide several
dark spaces, where there are beds and a Jacuzzi for naked bathing, plus showers for before and after.
On the other side is a corridor with pictures of naked women lit with ultraviolet light and huge sculptures of female
genitalia. In the corridor, a woman in a leather suit with her breasts exposed lies in a hammock. Her legs are held by chains and someone is performing a sex act on her before a curious audience of five men and two women. A middle-aged midget goes up to
the upper level, holding two leather leashes attached to the neck of a tall and slender young woman who walks ahead of him. Entry into this level is restricted to couples.
Kitkat
Kitkat is Insomnia's
kinkier and more famous cousin. Sitting at the entrance to this club is Kirstin, who runs the place with her husband Thur. She oversees the selection process. Anyone who shows up in simple jeans and a T-shirt will remain outside.
There are two dance floors, both with oppressively loud techno music. A few young women are dancing in just their panties and bras. A naked couple is making out on the couch. Here, too, you find a big age range: a couple of Russian youths in army trousers and berets, shirtless, alongside 60-somethings sitting naked on armchairs. Some are playing with themselves, one is asleep. A man in a leather dress puts his hand on the crotch of a woman in high stiletto heels, who is kissing another man. On the walls are neon-hued paintings of men with enlarged penises and of naked women.
At Kitkat you can do anything, as long as it's consensual. It's the sex community center, says Dr. Gadi Taub, 46, a senior lecturer in communications and p ublic policy from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
Good-looking men and women, ugly men and women, gays, straights, old people, young people - it's wonderfully democratic. You go in there for the first time and you think you're dreaming. They don't need bouncers to toss people out
because people respect one another, in keeping with the rules of the place: You can try anything and touch anyone - it's the local parallel to 'What's going on?' - but if he moves away from you, you don't go after him.
Berghain
At 3 A.M., I head over to Berghain, the city's most famous techno club. Top DJs, music that's a feast for the ears, thumping bass that really gets inside you. But it's just as famous for the long line at the entrance, the tough
selection, and the fact that what happens on the dance floor, in the bathrooms and in the dark rooms is just as exciting as the music. In one room on the first floor, aside from the amazing sound, everything is more intense - especially at peak hours
when it fills with gay men engaged in solo, couple or group sex and it's hard to move around without bumping into a bare chest or buttock. On the ground floor you can also find straight couples fucking. Not everyone bothers to hide; right on the dance
floor there are couples and threesomes going at it in advanced stages.
For the last decade or so, the Berghain has been operating out of a power station located on the edge of the Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg quarter. The proprietors
are also the owners of Lab.Oratory and at certain parties during the year (for New Year's and Easter ), the connecting door between the two spaces is opened. Then the last days of Pompeii are likely to pale in comparison. But my German friend still isn't
that impressed.
That's the difference between locals and tourists, he says. The locals are used to it all, the tourists are keen to go back home with a souvenir. Some buy a postcard, others tell everyone how they saw
people fucking at the Berghain club.
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