The Cine ABC and California Peep Show & videokabins next to it both STILL horrible empty shells; the people campaign to close down these disgusting sleazy places, but what takes their place? Nothing. Complete lack of any life at all, or in Stuttgarter Platz’s case just more bars, more drinking establishments. So much better? More life, more life-force, more passion, in the naughty places. 345PM. My Eurostar departs in 2 hours 11 minutes. And let’s hope I’ll be on it. Pink Like a Pill (Brussels, 2001, proper proper old school). One of my ur-songs.
Tag Archives: stuttgarter platz
I feel so at home in the Max Hotel. I really could live here
I feel so at home in the Max Hotel. I really could live here. If I was able to do that, I would be a happy man. Sadly, I do have to work in London—in a very lovely job. And yes the Cine Paris films have been crap again, the street girls have been crap again, the 5th Avenue girls are really crap, the Empire dancers are really crap—but it doesn’t matter; it is enough that these places exist. Finding the occasional diamond in these places is worth the wait. There was AMAZING quality in the Nuremberg windows and laufhauses and I did nothing with any of them. It is about finding places I feel comfortable, and I have that in Brussels. I will wait for the odd diamond to come to the surface; hopefully one day soon these jihadist losers will fade away and Brussels can really start to bloom & blossom again (erotically speaking). Berlin for me is dead, erotically speaking. When Stuttgarter Platz was wiped out, then for me Berlin was wiped out. The memories from those nights in Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri and Golden Gate in particular are so strong, so glorious. Munich for me is dead, erotically speaking, nothing on offer except 50 euro private dances! Waste of time and money. And Nuremberg I don’t think I will return to. So that leaves Brussels and Vienna. And from this week’s experience NOTE TO SELF—no more long train journeys in summer. So Brussels only for summer. Vienna can wait for winter.
Second night in Berlin–Stuttgarter Platz
I love Berlin. But I honestly don’t think I will be coming back
I love Berlin. But I honestly don’t think I will be coming back. A completely uneventful, unarousing visit. When I think of all the erotic attractions on offer in Nuremberg or Frankfurt, why do I bother with Berlin. 77, Monte Carlo and Sissi were all pretty awful. The ruination of Berlin Zoo station continues—two days in a row I have not even been able to buy a Guardian newspapers here. In the Bavarian restaurant now, waiting for my rumpsteak. Gorgeous salad. So yesterday, what did I do? After several beers in the hotel reception, off to Hitler’s bunker and Wilhelmstraβe. Then to David Bowie’s café and house. King George was rubbish. Six girls, no one took my fancy. Back to hotel, McDonald’s, then bed. Woke 1130pm and rushed to BEC (in Lewishamstraβe!) but the kabins were rubbish. In poor state. One kabin the buttons don’t work, the next kabin the buttons work but it does not take your coins. Hard work. A lot of money wasted for nothing. 77, Sissi, Monte Carlo all poor. I will try Ciro or Caligula tonight—expensive, but I have to try something. Now all I want is food.
The Kanthotel no longer has minibars
The Kanthotel no longer has minibars, but you can collect ice cold bottles of beer (or draught beer) from the reception so that’s OK. The staff now all wear uniforms; last time I stayed that sexy receptionist was always in tight fluffy sweaters of different colours. Figure-hugging. So yes, lovely to be so close to Monte Carlo and Sissi Bar but how lonely and out of place they now look, surrounded by “respectable” businesses. They LOOKED like an anachronism. 12 midday on my first beer of the day. Cold, but sunny outside. Hopefully it will be raining before I go out. Well, I take it back, a new blonde receptionist in a black lace top.
Stuttgarter Platz has been reduced to 10% of what it was
Stuttgarter Platz has been reduced to 10% of what it was, if you want to talk of quantity of clubs. But if you want to factor in the QUALITY of the remaining floozies, just 1% of what it was—back in 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006. Thus the ice retreats, further and further. Climate change irreversible—just a question of WHEN all the ice will gone, not IF it will happen. You mark my words, not only whores and porn cinemas, but one day in our lifetime even pornography will be banned, even masturbation will be banned. Anyone possessing an old black & white photo of a naked woman will be hunted down and ostracised like a pariah. Thus the emasculation, castration (Islamisation?) of Europe runs out of control. 102 already.
So my next holiday? Well perhaps back to Berlin
So my next holiday? Well, perhaps back to Berlin. Yes. Stuttgarter Platz has been wiped out with just Sissi Bar and Monte Carlo left but there is something so low-down sleazy about those two places that I like (and let’s face it, they are cheap, which is the sexiest thing of all). And if King George really is just 49 euros for entry, then worth trying that again. Oh, it would be lovely if I could just let myself go and f–k someone tonight but I don’t think it is going to happen. Apart from Denisa, the Manhattan’s current crop of girls—apparently sans Adelina—depresses me. Tete a Tete is at least cheaper, just 6 euros for a beer. If I go late enough, there may be some dancing.
I wish I COULD find something/someone to come back to Berlin for
I wish I COULD find something/someone to come back to Berlin for, because I do feel so comfortable here—here in the Berlin Plaza bar. In Berlin Erotic Point, and Stuttgarter Platz. But a city always needs a star to get me to come back, and it has been so many years since I found a star in Berlin. Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri, Night Dreams, Chocolat, Starlight, Golden Gate, Blue Angel, all closed down, a cataclysm; also Black & White and Mazurka and more I cannot even remember. Warm blue skies when I woke this morning; that’s what made me want to go back to sleep and close the curtains; now lead grey snow heavy skies. Ah, this moment usually comes when I am on holiday—Streets of London on the Plaza hotel radio. Always moving (when I’ve had a few).
Again I managed to get back to the hotel very straightforwardly without getting lost
Again I managed to get back to the hotel very straightforwardly without getting lost, as I insanely have done a couple of times recently. It is so straightforward & well-trodden a path by me I have no idea how I could possibly have ended up walking the WRONG way along the Ku’damm. Even coming home after another bottle of beer in each of Sissi Bar, Monte Carlo and Club 77, I did not feel drunk. So in the end I think there WAS enough encouragement to come back to Berlin. The kabin films of Berlin Erotic Point were better than I remember; some of the best ever; and the prospect of a naughty h—job at least in the dark of Sissi or Monte Carlo to finish off is tempting enough to come back for. 241pm now. Still, it’s a very long way to come if there are no stars—no Yulia, no RIccarda, no Iga, no Olga & Alla. To get me to come back all this way there has to be someone I really really fancy; and it has been a very long time since I’ve seen someone like that in Berlin. In Vienna I see at least one on every visit; in Brussels there has been several stars recently. I need to find a star in Berlin to get me to come back I think. But even these minor pleasures—a wonderful set of kabin films, followed by a naughty b—job or h—job or full sex in a bar around the corner, are not available in London. I really cannot bear to be in London anymore. It is so so sterile. How on earth can I stop myself spending all my money on travelling? But when London was more interesting, I used to spend all my money in London, so it doesn’t make much difference I suppose. 307.
“O scent of fabled yesteryear”–in Mazurka, now closed, without trace
My train leaves Hauptbahnhof 6.50am so I don’t want to be out too late tonight
My train leaves Hauptbahnhof 6.50am so I don’t want to be out too late tonight. So last night—the beer at last started to go down a little easier. Walked straight to Berlin Erotic Point (in Lewishamstraße, always makes me smile) and it really baffles me how I managed to get lost so badly on recent visits. The kabins were actually very good—if you can find one that is working properly, the selection of films is very very good. It did the job and put me well in the mood for the short walk up to Stuttgarter Platz. Scorning Bon Bon as I usually do (never seen a nice girl there), into Sissi. Big voluptuous brunette Layla I did something with before. Her bottom and bosoms are really a handful; and a long straight black hair slim girl; all from Bulgaria I am guessing. One other man came in which actually made it seem busy. Into Monte Carlo Kino and two men already there. I’m not used to seeing these places so busy! No particularly beautiful girls this time. On to Club 77; it is a Jacuzzi and sauna club, for around 180 euros I think, or you can just go to a room for 50 euros or so; it has always tempted me to take a girl for Jacuzzi and sauna but there was no one there who I fancied, so I declined again. Long time since the fantastic curvy Angelica was there. And that was it—grabbed a McDonald’s and back to hotel. But those kabin films were good enough to make me want to go back and maybe finish with a h—job at least, in Sissi or Monte Carlo. Layla said she could give me a b—job there at the bar, which would be quite titillating. But if I am going to resist the temptation of King George and Caligula, then I must finish in Ciro to at least SEE some other floozies.
Back down to the bar at 845PM. I am forcing myself to drink. I cannot spend the whole night in my hotel room
Back down to the bar at 845PM. I am forcing myself to drink. I cannot spend the whole night in my hotel room. Though that is just what I need to clear my head and recover from the previous night’s over-drinking. This holiday is turning into a damp squib. I have felt out of sorts the whole time. So I force myself to do something tonight. You never know, the sexiest girl of all time might be waiting for me in what is left of Stuttgarter Platz. I’ll probably shit myself before I get there; it’s been that kind of holiday. YMCA on the Berlin Plaza hotel radio now; that song is following me around. 946PM. I just want some sexy experience. Three days into my trip and I’ve yet to have a genuine unforced erection. 2209.
Berlin has so many memories for me, but (like Munich) that is all it is now, just memories
Berlin has so many memories for me, but (like Munich) that is all it is now, just memories. Memories of Yulia in Hanky Panky (now gone), Riccarda in Mon Cheri (now gone), Iga in Golden Gate (now gone), Olga & Alla in Mazurka (now gone). So sad. The high nights I had in Berlin. Life-changing. I’d had carnal experiences in Soho for years, but Berlin took me to another level entirely, and really opened me up as a human being, and dare I say, as a man. I came out of the chrysalis a butterfly, thanks to Berlin. I bloomed and blossomed thanks to Berlin, and came back to London so much more confident. It is cinema that taught us how to live, said Godard (who I revere). Well, it is strip clubs and floozie bars that taught me how to live. How to talk to women, which is the same thing. So yes, with the wiping out of Stuttgarter Platz Berlin really died for me. The way Soho did with the closure of Carnival Strip, Astral Cinema, Sunset Cinema (and much later Soho Cinema and Boulevard Strip). The place I lost my Vienna Virginity (Pour Platin) is closed down, knocked down, completely gone, a big hole in the Gurtel where it used to be. The place I lost my Berlin virginity is gone, turned into a (s)wanky cocktail bar. Amazingly the place I lost my original virginity, 61 Dean Street Soho, is still open for customers. I include this note for future biographers, and future idolators who may wish to make pilgrimage to the important places of MY life. I remain convinced it will happen. Convinced of my historical importance, even if nobody realises it yet. No one realised Van Gogh’s significance until long after he died; Kafka, etc. Even Samuel Pepys. I am writing and living my life (as a work of art) for posterity.
A very attractive black-haired policewoman going down the road puffing on a cigarette
A very attractive black-haired policewoman going down the road, puffing on a cigarette. I don’t think the Metropolitan Police are allowed to do that. The fact that I’m sure the WSK hookers’ days’ are numbered might prompt me to return to Vienna much sooner than I otherwise might have. Is another of my favourite naughty places really about to bite the dust. I lost Fortuna Kino and Flying Scotsman in 2015. Surely I will lose WSK and Rue des Commercants at some point in 2016. I think as well as the emasculation, puritanisation, sterilisation, castration of old masculine Europe, we can say we are seeing the Islamisation of Europe. The French minister who brought in the law criminalising men who use prostitutes was Najat Belkacem, of Moroccan Muslim stock. The mayor of Brussels Sint-Joost who has made the window girls close down at 11pm at night and on Sundays is Emir Kir, another person of Muslim faith. I’m not sure who provoked the police raids of Fortuna Kino after all these years of harmless naughty fun but one would not be surprised to see an increased Muslim representation in the local Vienna government. This despite the fact when you walk up and down the windows of Rue d’Aerschot, probably 90% of the men around you are Muslim; about 50% of the men I see in Fifth Avenue are Muslim. When I am back in London, I could walk around the corner and have a pint in the Scottish Stores, the Flying Scotsman as was; how depressing would that be. Is there anything more depressing than seeing an establishment where I enjoyed some of the greatest naughty highs of my life, the “high nights that persuade us to put off suicide”, now turned into “respectable” establishments. All those crushingly depressing cocktail bars and sports bars in Stuttgarter Platz, the Gelado Cocktail Bar which once was Mon Cheri, Albert’s Bar which once was Starlight, Night Dreams and Golden Gate, etc, etc. All the sperm that was ejaculated in those bedrooms, all the orgasms, all the sexual spiritual highs.
Beer, pornography & prostitution—the greatest things in life. My 3 drugs. My 3 opiums
Beer, pornography & prostitution—the greatest things in life. My 3 drugs. My 3 opiums. I travel to indulge the opiums. Already in Soho (since my career in infamy began in 1992) I have lost Carnival Strip Club, Astral Cinema, Sunset Cinema, Soho Cinema, Boulevard Striptease, Pleasure Lounge & Peep Show, 50% of the “French models” flats; in Berlin almost all of Stuttgarter Platz, Chocolat, Hanky Panky/Stutti Frutti, Mon Cheri, Golden Gate, Starlight, Night Dreams, Blue Bananas, Cascade Sex Kino all gone; in Vienna Pour Platin, where I lost my Vienna virginity. Not just closed, but knocked down, razed to the ground, an empty hole in the Gurtel like a missing tooth. It is like someone is deliberately going after all the places that have given me erotic pleasure, illicit thrills, sleazy pleasure, and closing them down one by one to leave me with NOWHERE left to go. Last year, I lost Fortuna Kino in Vienna and Flying Scotsman in London; this year I am sure WSK in Vienna and the street girls of Brussels Rue des Commercants. This is why I want to travel more & more, faster & faster. You may wonder why I have never gone to the most famous red light districts, of Amsterdam and Hamburg, even Antwerp; but I am a creature of habit. Brussels, Munich, Vienna and Berlin are my homes. Well, Munich is over for me, and in fact I am more likely to go to Nuremberg, and Berlin feels pretty much over as well, with the 90% loss of Stuttgarter Platz. When I see strip clubs and night bars close down, I feel sad. Normal, respectable establishments make me feel so depressed. I do indeed have a mind completely bitten by the serpent of sex, and I cannot understand why everyone is not like me. But, it has to be sex without emotion, sex without “relationship”. Pure priapic, erotic rampancy. Sex for the pleasure of sex, sex for the visual pleasure of sex. Sex as just hands on pornography. I am really phobic to emotions. Only one woman has ever got through my defences, and remains “behind my defences” (in a kind of perpetual offside position).
The Rosa Lux kino had less videos than they used to
The Rosa Lux kino had less videos than they used to; but the Shione Cooper one was good enough to make it worthwhile. Straight there and straight back. I feel so tired and saturated with drink I had planned to stay in tonight; but I got so turned on in my room, I felt suddenly desperate to return to BEC and Monte Carlo! If this is my last night in Berlin for a very long time, as I think it will be, I cannot spend it quietly in bed doing nothing. Still, this late 10pm beer tastes almost poisonous to me now. My body and mind is crying out: let me go to bed. Only my penis is saying no, let us go one last time to Stuttgarter Platz. I may even try just going to BEC, and then see how I feel there. I can always come straight back from there if not in the mood. After all a visit to Monte Carlo will only set me back a further 10 euros, no more.
Still trying to piece together the events (uneventful) of last night
Still trying to piece together the events (uneventful) of last night. Let me try again. I must have left the bar around midnight and walked with no enthusiasm towards Stuttgarter Platz. This time I was very careful to record which turnings I was taking to try to work out how I went so spectacularly wrong last time (and the time before that a year ago). I came round Olivaer Platz as usual, crossed Leibnizstrasse, rounded the corner of Ku’damm, and then turned up Clausewitzstrasse. This brings you to a little tiny star junction and I turned up Griesebrechstrasse. After a few steps, I realised this was wrong, so went back and turned up Sybelstrasse instead. Sure enough this straightaway brought me to Berlin Erotic Point. This is one thing I have been doing wrong then, though it cannot fully explain the extent of my madness previously. The kabins were not bad certainly, they have a menu button which makes all the difference. I could have stayed longer but the manager was banging on the door saying he wanted to close. Up to Bon Bon, Monte Carlo and Sissi, so simply so straightforward—how could I ever have got lost? Jessy, as I say, a surprisingly beautiful brunette in Monte Carlo. The girl in the porn film on the screen reminded me so much of the hotel receptionist and that is what detained me for quite a while. Next door to Sissi Bar and Lily there again, who with her huge voluptuousness and brown hair again reminded me of hotel receptionist, so I stayed with her for a while, though it was one of those miserable episodes where even as you are taking your clothes off you want to change your mind, but now have to go through with it. Imagining it was the hotel girl made it better. From there the long walk back to Zoo McDonald’s and then the walk in the rain back to the hotel.
So I think the result is no there is no point returning to Berlin
So I think the result is no, there is no point returning to Berlin. Sissi Bar, Monte Carlo, Club 77, Bon Bon all still remain at least. In Sissi there seems only ever one girl on duty; Monte Carlo has at least 6 girls on and last night a very attractive Bulgarian brunette Jessy. I was actually shocked how pretty she was. Club 77 around 6-8 girls, Bon Bon I saw 4 I think. There was one other man in Monte Carlo when I arrived, which actually made it seem busy, as usually I am on my own. In Bon Bon there was a group of 5 men at the far end, so glad that took the attention off of me. 20 euros to get in with one free drink. Bon Bon is unique in that the girl starts dancing on the stage near the door then walks all along the silver bar to the stage at the other end, collecting “dollars” all the while. But there was not enough to detain me in any of them, so I would not come back to Berlin for them. King George was not for me. I think it will be at least a year before I ever consider coming back to Berlin.
With or Without You on the hotel bar radio
With or Without You on the hotel bar radio. What a timeless classic that is. Some Chinese man just walked in and asked me for a Berliner (beer) please. This is how much I appear to belong here. The barman greeted me by name and “You are well known now!” With typical stupidity I saved the Alte National Gallery for today (Monday) as I did not want to go on the weekend when it will be too busy; only as I picked my bag up to leave my room just now I suddenly realised it is probably closed on Monday, and sure enough it is! Haha, the one cultural thing I wanted to do on this holiday and it is now impossible. I will head for the Rosa Luxemburg Strasse sex kino instead, and maybe look for the site of Hitler’s bunker. Raining gently again today, third day in a row. I have been very lucky in that regard. It was raining as I returned from Zoo last night. I walked all the way back from Stuttgarter Platz to Zoo along Kantstrasse, so desperate was I for some food, a 3am McDonald’s (the one by Stuttgarter Platz typically having already closed its doors by the time I got there), then walked back along Ku’Damm in the rain. It was beautiful, raining quite hard, but I was not really getting wet. It was just that big slow splattering rain that barely seems to make my clothes wet at all, just bounces off my head.
I notice how they keep the vodka in the fridge
I notice how they keep the vodka in the fridge; they don’t do that in London do they? It always hangs upside down over the bar. When the receptionist came in to the bar to talk to the bar staff, she glanced quickly right at me just as I glanced at her and our eyes met—I think she is already aware that I like her, since the first second when I arrived at the desk to check in. I must be that obvious. Feel no desire to walk to Stuttgarter Platz now. I know my signs. I will not even be able to get an erection tonight. The first night, Friday, I was excited and could hardly get it down again. Tonight the opposite. I doubt I will even GET an erection now. Anyway there is a McDonald’s there and that is all I am really looking forward to.
So two more nights in Berlin to come
So two more nights in Berlin to come. I will probably walk back to Stuttgarter Platz tonight; surely the 2 or 3 places will still be open on a Sunday. Then Monday should be my early start and doing the cultural things; in the evening nowhere left to try. After my poor experience in King George I am not bothered about Caligula, I don’t think.
So at the moment this make-or-break last chance visit to Berlin is leaning towards no
So at the moment this make-or-break last chance visit to Berlin is leaning towards no, I don’t think there is any point coming back to Berlin again. I will try Stuttgarter Platz again as I did quite enjoy my visit there—probably on Monday I will visit the Rosa Luxemburg Strasse kino and the Im Ex exhibition at the Alte National Gallery [forgetting the gallery is closed on Mondays]. But at the moment, no, I don’t think I will come back to Berlin, unless something spectacular happens today or tomorrow to change my mind.
Oh to be in a porn cinema with my cock out
Oh to be in a porn cinema with my cock out, and a big breast girl bouncing on the screen. How good it was in Monte Carlo with the blonde giving my naked cock a stroke. The simple pleasures are the best. Hopefully it will start to get dark within an hour then I can go out.
The destruction of Stuttgarter Platz red light bars
The old red light district of Stuttgarter Platz is now a very chic upmarket place with barely a trace of its former naughty past left.
Chocolate night bar is now Antiquadrat bookshop
Hanky Panky and Mon Cheri (it was in the black bedrooms above these two clubs I lost my Berlin virginity) are now Medusa and Galander Cocktail Bar respectively
Some photos of Galander Cocktail Bar from their own website; this used to be Mon Cheri–the absolute heart of Berlin for me
Starlight, and Night-Light is now Albert’s cocktail bar
Golden Gate and Blue Bananas is now Arena sports bar
Only Sissi Bar and Monte Carlo kino bar remain (as well as Bon Bon further along the road)
Insanely I got lost again on my way to Stuttgarter Platz
Insanely, I got lost again on my way to Stuttgarter Platz, and then I got even more lost coming back. I have absolutely no idea how I do it. I have looked at the map and tried to work out which turnings I took and I still cannot work out how I ended up going in completely the wrong direction every time—I mean like towards Paris when I should have been headed towards Moscow, as bad as that. I had blisters on my feet and I was in a fury. My McDonald’s was ice cold by the time I got back as well. Stuttgarter Platz is now a chic upmarket place. Mon Cheri is a cocktail bar called Galander, Starlight and Night-Light are now a cocktail bar called Albert’s, Blue Bananas and Golden Gate is a sports bar called Arena. Only Sissi Bar and Monte Carlo kino bar remain. There was just one girl in Sissi, a voluptuous brunette called Lily. In Monte Carlo the usual 6-7 Turks and Bulgarians. I do love the real downmarket sleaziness of these places and I will go back. I tried Club 77, 5 or 6 girls but no one to my fancy. I forgot to try Bon Bon. I was shocked how busy the streets were, but I suppose it was Friday night. Tonight will be as bad, I will give it a miss, and head towards Martin Luther Strasse instead—King George and Caligula, and later maybe Lustgarten to see if it is still open.
Surprised how quiet the hotel bar is this Friday night
Surprised how quiet the hotel bar is this Friday night. The Swedish three next to me and another 2 couples I think on the other side. Berlin is 90% full of ugly, post-war 1950s buildings, then every now & then you will see one of the gorgeous pre-war, 19th century buildings, and they are so beautiful it breaks your heart. How beautiful this city should be today. You see the beauty under your feet still, in the little cobblestones they make the pavements with still. Oh, the old & young Swedish/Norwegian women were not with the man. I got that wrong. Those Stuttgarter Platz nights were so amazing and as far as I know no books are written about them, no films are made about them. I at least want to preserve their memory here. Thank you to Yulia, and Riccarda, and Iga and all the other girls, who did so much to bring my morbid eroticism flourishing into life.
Ah after 9 hours of travelling the beer is going down nicely
Ah, after 9 hours of travelling, the beer is going down nicely. I will go soon to see if anything at all is left of Stuttgarter Platz. Back in 2003-04, Stuttgarter Platz was a life-changing experience. More than any other street on the planet, Stuttgarter Platz released my fly from its amber; brought me to life; released my butterfly from its chrysalis. Now? We will see what is left. An older Swedish/Norwegian couple are sitting at the bar, with their early 20s daughter in between them; with every beer that passes the back (rear) of the daughter becomes more & more compelling to me.
For me Berlin is some kind of Holy City
For me Berlin is some kind of Holy City. For some people Jerusalem is a holy city, or Mecca; for me Berlin is a holy city. I feel very emotional just to be here. My last few visits have felt disappointing it is true but I still come back, because its holiness remains undiminished. All the same, this feels for me a make-or-break visit to Berlin. A last chance for Berlin. Can it still provide any excitement to compare with the old Stuttgarter Platz nights, going to Hanky Panky and Mon Cheri, to Chocolat, to Starlight, to Night Dreams, to Golden Gate, to Blue Bananas, to Sissi Bar, to Monte Carlo—all next to each other. Now? Last time only Sissi & Monte Carlo left, as well as Bon Bon over the road. Tonight we will see.
Something I discovered or re-discovered last night
Something I discovered, or re-discovered, last night, drinking in the Ibis bar even after they turned the lights off, till 1AM, is that I DO feel more like doing naughty things late at night—and those post-midnight Brussels expeditions and Berlin Walks to Stuttgarter Platz were for a good reason. I am a nocturnal creature, and I do feel more alive in the dead of night; I shall resume my very late night visits to Gare du Nord in Brussels; I felt completely safe last night and was completely unaccosted both in the Rue d’Aerschot itself and on the long walk back. That bizaree 4-trips-in-a-row sequence of being targetted by pickpockets or necklace snatchers seems a long time ago. And by the time I got to the Rue d’Aerschot, 130AM, it was PACKED. Busy, busy, with people. Like Oxford Street. I felt so comfortable sitting in Le Cigalle and the Derniere Minute drinking, watching the men passing to & fro. I will resume my late evening trips to the Rue d’Aerschot and I think Stuttgarter Platz in Berlin, if anything is left. But my KEENNESS to go out after 1AM last night was a very notable realisation. I feel more at ease in the early hours of the morning; more alive. I look forward to drinking in the Berlin Plaza bar till they close, and then walking at 1AM in the morning along the silent empty Berlin streets—christ, you could NEVER find a central London street quiet and empty at any hour of the night—to Stuttgarter Platz. Though for little point—as Hanky Panky is gone, Mon Cheri is gone, Startlight, Night Dreams, Golden Gate, Blue Bananas are all gone. By the time I get back maybe even the last couple will be gone too—Sissi Bar, and Monte Carlo. And over the road Bon Bon (I never liked) and around the corner Club 77 (no good since Angelique decamped far across town). Le Coin is just a short stroll away, but I don’t even think of going there.
I seem to have spent just 53 euros on my first day in Brussels
I seem to have spent just 53 euros on my first day in Brussels, and just 53 euros on my second day, so I think I can go a little mad tonight and even try the places which I know are a waste of money—Empire, Gascogne and even that American Guest Bar by the opera. I haven’t felt turned on at all on this trip; even sitting in the Coin surrounded by all those busty, big bottomed floozies who would have blown my mind once upon a time. But I have enjoyed the drinking, and the daydreaming; just to be held in suspension. A river cuts its own course. If I try to force myself into being turned on, it will not work. I miss the old nights out of my head with lust, but I think they are gone forever. My god, those Stuttgarter Platz nights in Berlin, in Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri, Golden Gate and Monte Carlo! The Schillerstraβe nights in Munich: Atlantic City and Femina! Will I ever feel high like that again? Maybe the difference these days is possibly I always go there in daytime; if I resumed night-time explorations it might be better. Leave days for drinking & eating & sleeping, till 7pm at least, then start again.
I do have a feeling that I took the tickets out of my coat pocket
I do have a feeling that I took the tickets out of my coat pocket fearing I would lose them when I went somewhere if I took my coat off, but if so I presume I would have put them in my bag, but amidst my dirty knickers and dirty socks and dirty T-shirts I can find no sign of them. I spend the whole time drunk so my memory is appropriately vague to non-existent. I go to the night bars now filled with torpor and lethargy, when back in 2004 I used to hurry from the kabins of BEC or Sarah Young to Stuttgarter Platz almost literally hyperventilating with excitement and anticipation of what voluptuous huge-breasted houris might be waiting for me, in Hanky Panky, or Mon Cheri, or Golden Gate, or Monte Carlo. How long ago those magical nights seem. The drug was new then, and my receptors were very alive to it.
Frank Sinatra’s My Way on the Dorint bar radio as I arrive
Frank Sinatra’s My Way on the Dorint bar radio as I arrive, followed by Mack the Knife. Louis Armstrong’s version. I think it is time I went to Berlin again. I miss my Berlin Plaza, even if Stuttgarter Platz has been wiped out. Oh those magical lust-crazed nights in Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri, Golden Gate and Monte Carlo! Legends of my life.
2003-2004 was a magical time in my life
2003-2004 was a magical time in my life. The three trips to Munich followed by three trips to Berlin are legends of my life. I was innocent then so my sensations were stronger. The magic had seemed to have gone already by 2005 and the at the start of 2006 I fell in love with …… and stopped travelling for five years. In those five years, behind my back, everything happened. Music channels disappeared from all the TVs, Stuttgarter Platz in Berlin was wiped out, including Hanky Panky/Mon Cheri where I lost my Berlin virginity; the Gurtel in Vienna was wiped out, including Pour Platin where I lost my Vienna virginity. Now newly single I resume travelling and find a very different landscape. And yet, on the other side of the coin, I have discovered so many new places I never even knew about before: the fantastic porn kinos of Vienna, WSK and Fortuna being the best examples. Fifth Avenue and Le Coin and Ciné Paris in Brussels (Ciné ABC too was a new discovery but that already has gone).
Nice to be back in the Ibis
Nice to be back in the Ibis, but disappointed to find no music channels at all, when back in 2002, 2003, there were three or four. Between my first Golden Age 2002-5 and the new one, 2014—, there was some kind of cataclysm. Every hotel in Europe removed ALL music channels from their TV—why??? And about 90% of the red light places closed down—90% of the Gurtel wiped out, 90% of Stuttgarter Platz wiped out. California and Cine ABC in Brussels closed down.
I always described the rooms above Mon Cheri and Hanky Panky
I always described the rooms above Mon Cheri and Hanky Panky (fka Stutti Frutti) in Berlin’s Stuttgarter Platz as being Cameron Rennie Mackintoshian, because of their Stygian blackness and massive canopied four poster beds; lit by nothing but a single heavily covered bedside red lamp; it was in one of these rooms that I lost my Berlin virginity one drunken night to Yulia, and then returned at least a couple more times with Berlin blonde Riccarda. I now discover it was THIS picture by James Pryde that I was thinking of all the time, and it was nothing to do with Mackintosh at all (a wonderful Freudian typing error made me initially write James Prude).
I have really enjoyed this stay in Vienna but that will be enough Vienna for a while
I have really enjoyed this stay in Vienna but that will be enough Vienna for a while. I will make do with Brussels, until I eventually feel like trying Berlin again. The obliteration of Stuttgarter Platz has destroyed Berlin’s greatest charm for me. I will still check out the remaining Sissi Bar, Monte Carlo and Club 77 just in case. And after that there is just King George and Caligula. Yes 100 euros to f–k as many girls as you like is good, but if like me you prefer to just look and then leave without doing anything, 100 euros is expensive window shopping.
I was thinking earlier that yes there is such fantastic choice in Nuremberg
I was thinking earlier that yes, there is such fantastic choice in Nuremberg, so many windows and laufhauses, but what I realise is I do not like to do anything in that environment. I prefer a bar environment where you can take your time to look at the girls before choosing; that is why I like Fifth Avenue in Brussels so much, and old Stuttgarter Platz places like Mon Cheri, Golden Gate, et al. In Nuremberg there is too much choice so I cannot choose.
1010PM Friday night and I still haven’t left my hotel
1010PM Friday night and I still haven’t left my hotel; but I remember in my first trips to Berlin I would drink in the hotel bar till midnight or 1AM before going out to Stuttgarter Platz; in Brussels too I never left the Ibis till after midnight.
My whole Brussels existence takes place in the small area between Cine Paris-Hotel Max-Rue des Commercants-5th Avenue
My whole Brussels existence takes place in the small area between Cine Paris-Hotel Max-Rue des Commercants-5th Avenue. During my so-called Golden Age of travelling—1999-2006 (before I fell in love with my future wife)—I knew of NONE of these places. This is why Brussels has come spectacularly back to life, and a new Golden Age has begun. In Vienna, similarly, my existence revolves around WSK-Cafe Westend-Fortuna Kino, NONE of which I knew of during my first ‘golden age’. In Munich on my last visit there was NEW videokabin places and a NEW strip club, so the scene there is thriving. In Nuremberg last time I discovered a vast red light district that I never knew the existence of before. Even in Berlin, though Stuttgarter Platz has been all but wiped out, I have now sampled the delights of the Caligula and King George flat-rate brothels, which may move the centre of gravity from Stuttgarter Platz to Martin-Luther-Strasse on future visits. Thus a glorious new Golden Age, even more splendid than the first, beckons. Bella reminds me of Sissi/Angelica, I now realise. They could be sisters.
I travel to places that offer me the pornotopia I crave
I travel to places that offer me the pornotopia I crave. Berlin, increasingly, has now become bottom of the list. Stuttgarter Platz has been wiped out and that has really destroyed Berlin for me. Sissi/Angelica is the loveliest Esmeralda I have ever met in my life it is true, but she is now in a laufhaus far in the outskirts and those places are not for me. Brussels always in 4th place out of 4, has now risen to become No.1.
You never know there might be a real discovery sitting there amidst the dross of the Mazurka
You never know, there might be a real discovery sitting there amidst the dross of the Mazurka. Oh, but Stuttgarter Platz (Sissi Bar, Monte Carlo and 77) were so disappointing on Monday night, I cannot find any enthusiasm to go back there again. Don’t want to spend 100 euros in King George again, as exciting as the experience was (without actually doing anything). I hate repeating myself so the thought of going back to King George, Caligula, Stuttgarter Platz disgusts me, so that leaves Mazurka, pretty much. I know it is going to be awful, but it is the last place I have not returned to on this trip so let me go and get it over with.
The Stripper 