The club was a labyrinth.
A confusing twist of dead ends and turns with no purpose.
It was awesome.
I paid 13 euros and headed inside. People in outfits that looked fit for A Clockwork Orange floated around the club, lost in their own world. The hallway with low ceilings and stone walls led me into a room with flashing lights. People were facing the same way, not talking, lost in the music.
I turned forward and complied, moving my shoulders a rhythmic left, then right, then left again, watching the DJ behind bars, as if he were in jail.
The sudden flashing lights that stung my eyes played games with my retinas. Someone would be immediately next to me when they flashed, and when the lights turned off again, their dense shadow would be a few feet in front of me, as if they had jumped positions in a matter of milliseconds. I thought I was hallucinating. The music sounded angry, like pots and pans being thrown against a wall (make sure your sound isn’t on too high…).
What the hell? I thought to myself. How is this a thing?
I could only stand it for a little while before my friend and I followed the labyrinth to a seating area. Our eyes gave sighs of relief.
People wandered in and out, up and around. We went upstairs to the second club, which was more “normal.” Music blasted from the DJ and everyone danced in rhythm.
After a while, we went back downstairs, ready to brace the strange oddity that was taking place in the converted vaults that used to be underneath a department store.
Tresor was the name of the club, in Berlin, Germany.
If you want to experience a strange confusion that would only take place in the underground clubs of Berlin, then go. Oh- and don’t get there before 3 a.m.