Club life Berghain: the hardest door in Europe

Berghain has been the hippest club in Berlin for over a decade. If you want to get in, you have to have stamina. Will the "Bluewin" editor make it?

Berghain is famous, and visitors from all over the world travel to the German capital just for the club. Time for "Bluewin" editor Bruno Bötschi to give the club, which is known for its strict admission policy, a try:

So let's go - Dani, my companion, and I - by streetcar to the "Berghain". A Sunday afternoon in September. The sky over Berlin is overcast, the forecast is for rain, a perfect day to go out.

11:45 a.m.: Text message from Roger, a Berlin friend and club connoisseur: "Queue now halfway to the kiosk."

12:35 p.m.: Dani and I follow the booming beats. Then we're standing in front of Berghain. The queue in front of the former cogeneration plant has now almost reached the kiosk. 50, no, 100 meters. "300 people, at least," says Dani. Most of those waiting are wearing Berlin going-out uniforms: black top, black trousers, black sneakers.

12.36 p.m.: We dutifully join the end of the queue. Me: "Dani, you know we'll be queuing for at least two hours. And it's uncertain whether we'll get in." Dani: "It doesn't matter."

12.39 p.m.: An American woman and her boyfriend join the queue behind us. The young woman has come without a jacket and is only wearing a black spaghetti net shirt. Was my choice of clothes (blue and red striped pants) a reach into the geranium box? At least Dani is wearing black.

12.41 p.m.: I have to go. But where? Dani: "Don't be complicated." I do the business behind a nearby bush.

12.45 pm: Phone call with Rainer, another Berlin friend: "You know a Berghain bouncer. Can you please, please, please text him and ask if two nice Swiss guys can go ahead?" Rainer: "Oh Bruno ... okay, I'll try, but the chances are zero."

12.47 p.m.: It starts to rain.

12.48 p. m.: Me: "Dani, what a fool I am. I haven't got enough money with me."

12:50 p.m.: I take a cab to the nearby Ostbahnhof to get some money. Dani holds the line.

12:53 p.m.: I withdraw 200 euros from the ATM. The cab driver is waiting, the rain is getting heavier. Well done!

12.56 pm: Back in the cab. There's an umbrella in the back. Me: "Mr. cab driver, will you sell me your umbrella?" Short discussion, but I'm lucky. It's 5 euros for the ride and 10 euros for the umbrella.

1 p.m.: Back in the queue. I let the young American woman under the umbrella. She applauds. I wonder if the bouncers like performances like this.

1.02 p.m.: My gaze wanders through the crowd: a few meters further ahead stands a man in vinyl hot pants and pink boots. They reach up to his thighs.

1.05 p.m.: There it is, the door. Two muscle-bound bearded men decide who enters this afternoon. The legendary bouncer Sven Marquardt is nowhere to be seen.

1:07 pm: Me: "On average, they don't let one in five people in." Dani: "We'll get in."

1.10 p.m.: Dani is thirsty, I'm thirsty and hungry. He goes back to the kiosk, gets a beer, Red Bull and a piece of bread.

1.17 p.m.: A man with tattoos up to his neck shouts from behind: "You're two cool guys, but you know that yourselves." Dani and I smile sheepishly: "Oh, thanks ... uh ... you too."

1.22 p.m.: The queue has only moved one meter in fifteen minutes. Anyway, Dani and I talk to the people waiting in front of and behind us. A Swiss animator, who grew up in San Francisco, lived in Thun in between and has been working in Berlin for two months, wants to know which DJs are playing today. A friend told him that sometimes the bouncers ask about it. I can't help him.

1.24 p.m.: A young man with a blonde companion is standing in front of us. When the woman has to leave for a moment, he says: "I've already been in several times. It could be difficult today, it probably won't work with my colleague." I look towards the entrance. The bouncer sends four young women away. The American woman says you have a better chance of getting in alone. Her friend says the opposite.

1.25 p.m.: The rain gets heavier.

1.27 p.m.: The cartoonist has checked the internet to see which DJs are playing. Marcel Dettmann and DJ Hell. The names mean nothing to me. "You have to know them," laughs a young man two rows in front.

1.35 p.m.: Finally, we're moving forward, three, four meters. And I have pressure on the line again.

1.46 p.m.: Text message from Rainer: "Sorry, I can't reach my colleague."

1.48 p.m.: Stepping out again.

1.53 p.m.: The rain has stopped, at least. The animator changes his shirt. He is now also wearing black mesh.

2.08 p.m.: Suddenly the tattooed man is standing next to me - with two lattes in his hands. "For our two cool Swiss guys." We: "Oh ... uh ... super nice. Thank you so much."

2.15 p.m.: Text message from Roger: "Alternative: Club Sisyphos." Me: "Dani are you up for it?" Dani: "We'll wait."

2.20 p.m.: Dani is thirsty again. He goes to get another beer.

14.25: Things are moving forward. The tension is rising. The conversations fall silent more and more. Is it awe, is it respect?

14.33: A little further ahead, three boys push into the queue from the side. Will that go well? Grumbling, the trio don't care.

2.44 p. m.: Me: "Dani, should we each try it alone or in pairs?" Dani: "Two of us."

2.39 p.m.: We've reached the playpen. At last. Another 15 meters to the entrance. Oh no, the doorman doesn't like me, he's already given me two blank looks. My fear of rejection is growing, my heart rate is rising.

2.43 pm: Dani and I are no longer talking. Slightly desperate inside, I try to apply the "how to look when you're standing in line" tip from a friend in Berlin: "Confident, but not arrogant."

2.46 p.m.: The three tailgaters have made it straight away. Doorman: "You've pushed your way in ... " One of the boys: "Not true." The bouncer makes a hand signal: "But you're welcome to stand right at the back and try again."

2.50 p.m.: It's the young man with the blonde colleague's turn. Doorman: "Two of you?" Man: "Yes." Doorman: "Sorry, not today."

2.51 p.m.: Now! We are! Doorman: "Two of you?" Dani: "Yes." Doorman: "Have a nice evening"

14.52: We're inside.