Pudel Club

My new room

Everything is arranged. The contract has been signed and until October I´ve got a new appartment. It's in St. Pauli, right between the two coolest shopping and clubbing neigborhoods of Hamburg. I'm going to live there with my former Young Dogs-collegue and new schoolmate Emilia.

Last night I celebrated this cheerful event at the Golden Pudel Club. Now this place is a must-see for party animals who come to Hamburg. I place it on the same level with the recently demolished club Tresor in Berlin. Pudel is one of the most famous clubs here, but it's also one of the smallest. When I first entered the place a few months ago, I walked through the corridor of the club to get to the main hall. When I looked around the corner I found out that the corridor ís actually the main hall. There's poor lighting, a crappy old couch and the thrashy walls are covered with paint, posters and candlewax. A club that looks like this múst have good music.

And it does... There's always good music in Pudel. Yesterday, there were DJ's playing hardcore house, breakcore and electronica. If you're not used to the agressive, squeaking and trashy sound you'd probably describe it as noise. I was on the dancefloor (in the corridor) with a beer in my hand, enjoying the pounding beats coming from the speakers. Suddenly, a guy of about fourty years was so stoned and drunken that, in an rush of pure insanity, he fell against the DJ booth while reaching his arm to the DJ. As a result of this sudden crash, the record skipped. The DJ's immediately requested him to leave the club. Apparently confused, the man made his way to the exit. Now I realize this wasn't much fun for the DJ's. But if things like these happen, at least you know 100% sure you're not in a boring place.

Talking about boring: there's a famous bar in Hamburg where the Beatles used to play. There's a big stone there with all the other big names that once played there. To me it's just a sign that this bar was once actually a cool place to hang out. I forgot the name of the bar, which says enough about the impression it made on me.