I don’t ever want to stop enjoying the naughty places, and the big-breasted Esmeraldas, because to me it is the only sign of life in me, it is the only thing that keeps me feeling alive. It is the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning. In Brussels I want everything at once: I want Brussels Grill steaks, I want Ciné Paris, I want Fifth Avenue girls. I don’t know what to do first because I want all at once.
I love Esmeraldas because I do not want any involvement whatsoever. Involvement is like being stuck in a giant spider web, glued to it, waiting for the giant spider to come back and eat you, like in Lord of the Rings. I have to enjoy Belgium & Germany & Austria while I can, before Najat and her ilk take over Europe.
I was thinking I have not seen any sexy girls this time in Berlin, but my god, they all came out today. Pretty, beautiful, sexy, mindblowing, they were all around me today, especially on the bus journey back from Friedrichstraße to Zoo. Too many to mention. Best memories of this trip to Berlin then: almost nothing. King George was a really interesting & enjoyable experience, and better than Caligula, in terms of beauty of the girls and just general ambience of the club. Lovely to see Sissi again; she is one of the Esmeraldas you meet who you would definitely like to have as a girlfriend.
Fifth Avenue was packed on Friday night. It was ridiculous. More and more guys just kept pouring in, there was standing room only; the strip clubs of Munich were packed every night; once again I ask the eternal question: where do all the men go in Berlin? Where do all the men go in Vienna? At night they are like ghost towns. What few night bars remain are always totally empty. You will be the only man there with all the girls coming up to you one after the other, and some getting quite rude, “if you don’t want to do anything you have to leave”. “You aren’t allowed to just drink”. Although even here in Brussels Gascogne and Empire are nearly always empty. Why do Fifth Avenue get it so right that they can be so packed every night? They have absolutely hit on the magic formula, whatever it is. This is how Mon Cheri and Golden Gate should have been, still thriving every night. Why don’t the Berlin men young and old pour into those places the way the Brussels men young and old do here? I think big part of Fifth Avenue’s success is down to the fact the beers are just 3 euros each and it is free to get in. it’s just like your local pub, it just happens to be full of big bottomed Esmeraldas. Another attraction is the girls never approach you, they leave you in peace if that is what you want. The jukebox is really loud pounding music. It really is the most fascinating brothel I have ever been to. Sex, apparently, is 50 euros to the girl plus 25 euros to rent the room for half an hour—more than enough time for anyone!
How absurdly proud and full of myself I feel when these Tallulahs and Esmeraldas ask me “Wo kommst du?” and I say “London”. Their eyes widen and they say “Oh! London!” When I am in London I hate it, can’t wait to get away, but once I get away I am so proud to say I come from London. So yes it is Sunday. Let me do nothing more than get very drunk here in Rechthaler Hof on ice cold Spaten beer and then stuff myself with 1 (or 2?!) Wiener Rostbratens.
By any measure, in Nuremberg and here in Munich I have seen some of the most beautiful Tallulahs and Esmeraldas I have ever seen, and yet I have done nothing with any of them. I have been in every club just to look, study, on reconnaissance. If I had travelled in despair, in some black tunnel that I was so familiar with in my former years, in what I called my “golden age” of travelling, then I would certainly have done something with one of the stunning window girls of Nuremberg, or in Munich with the extraordinary Natalia in Cabaret Imperial; yes, a young naughtier Steve Nicks, but now I realise more than anything a potential new Riccarda. Even busty Dara in the Dolly Bar, or blonde Claudia in Atlantic City.
So my second day in Munich and I head first to Rechthaler Hof, of course, after picking up my Guardian from the station. I spent 180 euros on my one day in Nuremberg, and 150 euros on my first day in Munich. At this rate, I will have nothing left even before I reach Berlin—but, after all, this is what I came for. To indulge in eating, drinking and sleeping, while enjoying the Tallulahs and Esmeraldas in the evening, although these days not indulging. I met a very beautiful girl in Tiffany, slim again, like the Ukrainian Natalia in Imperial, when I always say I like big girls only; she looked like Olga Kurylenko. She is a student of psychomatrix and taking my date of birth she worked out we are compatible, as well as both being scorpios, although this made her hang her head, “Oh no!”. She guessed my birth year as 1979, however, and I did not want to disabuse her so her calculations will not have been accurate.