You asked on the plane if I had any crazy stories and wild adventures from my travels... it had been such a long, long time since I have been asked that I drew an immediate blank.
I've thought about that moment quite a bit since then. And I need to share more stories. So. Here we go. Memories unfolded and returning.
#1 I spent almost two months in Berlin, one of my favorite places. There was a group of five of us that connected within my first two-three weeks there (at the Circus Hostel) and we spent the time together; exploring Berlin, enjoying Berlin and sharing travels and stories.
One member of the group was Hans (American!) who was staying at the hostel prior to the start of his study abroad program while waiting for university housing to open. Once it did, he made a few local friends, one of whom suggested a club that we all might like to visit.
It was called Freitag - 'Friday' in German - and was only open on... Friday night. It was an underground venue with very specific directions. The next week rolled around and we made plans to go - picking up a couple of stragglers from the hostel on the way out.
The directions were unusual. It was normal enough to start; off a main strauss's in a popular neighborhood in the city, a few S-Bahn stops from 'home.' Next it was down a busy side street. To a less busy side street. Then to an even smaller side street. Until we were officially in a quiet, sleepy neighborhood on the outskirts of Berlin with toddler bikes strewn about yards.
It was dark. It was March. And it was cold. We were a little unsure and a little sketched out by the directions - which we were following to a tee and had yet to lead us astray. Despite being in what could have passed for a suburban, Midwestern street - minus street light - we pressed on.
We turned down the last street indicated and walked to the cul-de-sac. We found the third house on the left from the dead end and found the marker that we had been searching for in the pitch dark: a sole red candle glowing on the porch.
Tentatively we walked up to the house, questioning the absurdity of the whole venture. Everyone dared the others to be the one to knock on the door. Hans was elected unanimously. Timidly, but firmly he knocked. We half expected an angry parent woken up in the middle of the night to open the door. It opened.
A 20-something guy greeted us, his finger to his mouth to indicate silence. We obeyed. In hushed tones Hans confirmed we were here for Freitag. The guy nodded and pointed to the back of the house, where a 20-something gal waited. She showed us to a basement door and told us to remain quiet until the door closed behind us and we were down the stairs. We started to descend the stairs, the door closing gently behind us. With a rush, as we reached the bottom, we were hit with the turbulent, colorful sounds of a salsa band, playing full blast.
The music flowed throughout a small, two room solid concrete basement. A makeshift bar was setup along a back wall. A few tables and chair were planted in an alcove. The ceilings were low and the lights dim. And the room was past capacity with dancing, gleeful party-goers. It. Was. Amazing.
Tucked away, underground, on an unsuspecting street.
We shed our winter coats, grabbed drinks and joined the fray. The music switched up throughout the night as the band's mood changed. We were friended by the club's usual crew, who took us in with open, gregarious arms. There was dancing, lots of conversation, drinking, a few heated philosophical debates (now a bit fuzzy because of the drinking), more dancing and more conversation. A couple of us found out that the neighbors were actually well aware of the setup. As long as the band couldn't be heard and the streets quiet as people came and went, they had no issue. Occasionally some would come over for the night.
That was by far the most unusual adventure to get to a dance party. (Though not the most unusual dance party...) A lively setup in an unassuming place.
We stayed out until the wee hours and enjoyed every minute. Berlin was always full of the unexpected.
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