Unscene Berlin

Time now for my long overdue roundup of Silvester parties! Silvester is the German name for New Year's Eve. The name comes from Saint Sylvester, who passed away on 31 December 335. Since his death has become synonymous with one of the biggest celebrations on the German calendar, I assume that old Sylvester must have been a bit badass. I'm picturing a 4th century dilettante, stumbling around a monastery strewn with empty barrels of sekt , his followers draped over their pews with robes askew, groaning in hungover agony. But, historical speculation aside, here is my preview...

I had nearly four hours to spare when I set out for a 'secret' open air party on Saturday... but in the end, I only managed to spend about half an hour there. I guess you could say I got a bit sidetracked along the way. I set out for the party by bike at around 4:00 p.m., wanting to catch some exercise and sun en route to Koepenick. About 15 minutes into the bike ride, the concrete  plattenbauten  magically turned into an endless field of countryside bliss. Bushy trees nestled under hills and one of the 3000 Berliner lakes glimmered modestly in the centre of a hidden valley. I told myself that I'd just stop for a minute to appreciate the shade of the waterside trees but lost track of time. Easily done when there's no one around and just another pretty vista around another mysterious bend to pull you forward.  It was quiet enough by the lake side that when I spotted a newly-minted toad clambering through the grass, it wasn't the least bit freaked out by th...

I once read a column in a well-known Berlin magazine, in which the columnist attempted to review an illegal, underground venue. Though the article was well-written, the description of the venue was so vague and uninformative that I may as well have been reading an ancient Egyptian document without the aid of the Rosetta Stone. The article exemplified a dilemma that I face on a regular basis: namely, how do I report on the places I love best without giving too much away? To do so would be to expose them to the trend-hunters, thereby killing their edgy status. The conundrum of reviewing parties in Berlin is that the best ones must remain un-reviewed and unreported-on. They would be destroyed or, at the very least, seriously degraded, by the approval of self-appointed arbiters of taste (of which I am one). That's because reviews are written for people who wish to catalogue and cross-reference their pleasures in a clinical way. Meanwhile, the appeal of Berlin's best parties d...