Seventy-Two Hours in Schöneberg

Underworld is an ode to queerness; to the achievements and creativity of a people united in their struggle for liberation, not assimilation. We are the weeds that grow through the pavements; the unwieldy roots that push back against a concrete lid thrust upon us, cracking its almighty crust in search of warmth and of sustenance. We persist in spite of the challenges we face, we blossom from the neglect and maltreatment we sustain from the powers that be.

We recognise the decades of resistance from our queer elders and revolutionaries. Their strides in breaking the chains which bind us cannot be forgotten. Our fight for liberation did not end with same-sex marriage! Until all of our siblings, be they trans, of colour, or working class are free, we are none of us free. Through assimilation, we lose ourselves. You say to be tolerated we must be palatable to a system that bends, breaks, and beats us? Well to that we say, GET FUCKED!

Many may oft confuse our queerness for weakness. Our wrists may be limp, but our fists are firm! Our fire burns on and nothing or no one can extinguish it. May this collective be a platform to uplift, champion, and celebrate the voices of the unheard and absurd, the censored and the strident, arming the queers of the land, both in the metropole and in the mire, with a pen and paper, keyboard and finger, or simply just a voice so that we may create for ourselves a world besides their own, an Underworld unified in the struggle for salvation.

From the Underworld, to all worlds.

003 - SEVENTY-TWO HOURS IN SCHÖNEBERG

BRANDON BURCHER @perverse.cowboy

There comes a time in every catamite’s education in which he finds himself seeking greater sexual adventure. A desire to break from the stagnation of those same old clumsy proddings in motorway lay-bys, or to probe one’s passions for those outside the acute range of pederasts and plebs found populating your hometowns Grindr.

A recent venture to Berlin with a mate of mine saw us staying in the western neighbourhood of Schöneberg: a borough so queer and laissez-faire, it makes Dalston look like Doha. Here, debauchery is king, and with a guide like mine, I was destined for a weekend like no other.

Day One — 21 June 2024

Our first evening outing took us to Prinzknecht, on the aptly named Fuggerstraße. The sprightly boozer, sandwiched between a clinic and a porno shop, hosts a spirited symphony of tradies, tourists, and taupe taint’d troopers, relaxing into the mid-summer eve sipping piquant pints and indulging in perverse patter. If you’re looking to wet your whistle before you get your whistle wet, this bar is the prime dive.

A discussion into the local points of interest was interrupted – a Polizist caught our attention, his leather-bound fists held leashes, the ends of which were attached to the collars of two pup-masked submissives. A sight to behold if your preconceived notions of the behaviours of emergency workers didn’t feature pup-playing plods.

We necked our Berliner Kindl and began exploring the area. The first cruise bar we came across was Boyberry. Twinned with a venue of the same name in Barcelona, this twink-run establishment provides an atmosphere unlike any I’d experienced in London. The social setting on the ground floor gives patrons a relaxed area to get acquainted with their surroundings, such as a spot to play pool whilst they up their potential shags for the night.

This Eisenacher Straße bar is a great way to get acquainted with indoor cruising. When seeking out dark rooms, you need ones like Boyberry’sbasement. Firstly, there should be next to no lighting. I’m talking “I can’t see three feet ahead of me” kind of dark. Whilst this cellar had a sole emergency exit sign glowing in a dimly lit corner, this just about meets the acceptable limit for what a dark room should contain.

I don’t want to see any LED-strip lighting bought from Amazon, no TV screens playing scenes from a Bel Ami orgy, I demand a labyrinthine abyss the colour of pitch. The sexual thrill of anonymity will give you a rush like none other, though be sparing, or else you end up with a rash like none other!

For the bigger boys amongst us, be sure to head to the bar and request a ruler. Upon measurement of your goods, you’ll be bestowed with a wristband entitling you to two free drinks, providing you are above 20cm (7.8") in length.

Day Two — 22 June 2024

If you fancy a breather from the ‘berg, there’s no better choice than Club.Lab. Arguably the city’s most popular cruising establishment, the venue sits in the shadow of Berghain, accessible via a side entrance normally hidden from the view of the revellers attempting to enter the clubber’s Mecca.

For an establishment that maintains a strict men only policy, I felt no qualms dropping the enby-card to divulge in the beneath-Berghain bullfest. I’ll save the finer details of the night to the confines of my diary pages, however, I did enjoy the company of a Brazilian with a striking resemblance to Josh O’Connor. As well as that of an Italian, a Finn, and several local volk.

Day Three — 23 June 2024

Our final night found us back in Schöneberg, returning to Prinzknecht for pre’s, before sauntering down the Motzstraße towards Scheune. Like many of the places listed, this bar has no entrance fee. Fair warning to those with asthma, Scheune is a bear bar as thick with smoke as it is with thick men.

I spent the totality of my time there in conversation with a charismatic older gentleman, who through Denglish, quizzed me on my knowledge of the hanky code, the scenes both in London and Berlin, and finally on my time thus far in the area. The last time he’d been in my home city, Germany and Berlin were still bisected by opposing ideologies and the wall that contained the area we found ourselves in.

In the thirty-five years since that date, he reflected about a time when the sight of two men holding hands in public would bring physical violence, a time when most of the activities I participated in during the past weekend would have to been conducted behind closed doors, or within the depths of secluded areas, such as the famed Tiergarten, Berlin’s equivalent to Hampstead Heath.

We bid farewell to one another before venturing onward to New Action. Don’t be fooled by the banality of the name, as my guide described it, it’s said “it sounds a bit cringe in English, but for them it’s like “jaaaa fist UND leather, New Action!” I soon discovered that this bar offered a clientele more accustomed to the true raunch and suave found at street parties like Folsom.

The leather and sportswear clad patrons lined up in tight corners make for ample cruising conditions. With all the tight corners and dark spots, you’re bound for a poke and prod that’ll realign your chakras as well as numerous internal organs. My friend and I parted ways for the remainder of the night, each with a new gentleman to enjoy for the remainder of our time in Schöneberg.

And with that we made one last bar crawl trip to Bull. Situated on the Kleiststraße, this spritely soirée was brim full of punters even into the twilight hours. It’s a great place to decompress after a night or two of salacious activities, as it more comparable to a gay bar with a cruising section abruptly attached to the end of the bar like some vestigial twin. This is the first cruise bar I’ve discovered that allowed women into it which was a welcome surprise.

the crowd in this bar resembled somewhat of a wedding buffet that had been left out too long; picked clean of the best bits, with the remaining appetisers being stale, brittle, or bland to the taste.

Although if you had cruising in mind here, you’re better off exploring the streets or sex apps for a palette cleanser as the crowd in this bar resembled somewhat of a wedding buffet that had been left out too long; picked clean of the best bits, with the remaining appetisers being stale, brittle, or bland to the taste.

After enjoying the last of my beer I retired for the night in the company of some dom from Krumme Lanke who had a penchant for watersports that made me question and later exceed the limits of what I thought was physically possible to engage with. All in all, Schöneberg is a must do for all those seeking to refine, rediscover, or reinvent the relationship they have with casual sex and gay socialising. I found this trip to be one of epiphanies, many mediums being expanded, but none so much as my mind.

OVERALL RATING:
IT WOZ DA DOGZ BOLLOX!

Highlight: New Action – an assortment of some of the hottest men the continent has to offer in a tight yet spacious den of raunch.

Lowlight: pissing myself at a geldautomat trying to withdraw cash as nearly all the bars are CASH ONLY and take too long to dispense cash when you’re sitting on a full bladder.

READ BRANDON’S ARTICLE IN PRINT NOW IN UNDERWORLD 003: IKKII+STIKKII

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