- It was barely two years ago that an Irishman working at 36 Rooms Hostel in Berlin inquired about using the derelict basement. In true Berlin spirit, his wish was granted, and yet another grungy, genuine local was born. Walking into Kleine Reise ("little trip"), it's hard to believe that any work has gone into the place, a clever illusion in a city full of re-used space. The walls are stark bathroom tile, the bars almost makeshift, and everything lit by bare bulbs. Don't be fooled; there were plenty of renovations.
Upon arrival, the bouncer issued an almost comically hushed pep-talk before opening the door. Even with no German it was easy to discern the message—"keep quiet, the neighbours are whiny pricks." In a testament to Berlin's expatriate magnetism, the doorman was the about the only person speaking the native tongue. Inside, it was Irish and American-flavoured English, and plenty of rapido Spanish. The front room was comfortably full, with a veritable scrum at the corner bar. Trying to find our bearings, we accidentally stumbled into a side room where two ladies in burlesque outfits were posing in front of an expensive camera setup. "I guess the cloak room's elsewhere then?"
If Kleine Reise is a long corridor, then the dance floor is little more than a slightly wider section. Sitting in the corners were four microwave-sized Void speakers. Sipping beers and bopping to Michael Jackson's "Remember the Time," the crowd gave a little jump when DP's "Around the World" came on. The flavour of the night was definitely bass—funky and slow. Spinning semi-classic hip-hop, funk and disco, none of the DJs had a particular presence, nor impressive mixing skills. Rightly though, no one gave a shit, they were all too busy having fun. In particular, several pairs of feet seen under a cubicle wall, their owners giggling above. "We had 14 in there once," a pissing Irishman boasted. "Well, you need to make it bigger then, don't ya?" responded his mate.
That kind of banter seemed common, even between the bar staff and patrons. The place felt more like a jumping house party than a club. Back out on the dance floor, and one of the burlesques was strutting to the strains of "Disco's Revenge," this time a dub version of Gusto's original cut. With the club slowly emptying out at 5 AM, the song seemed highly appropriate. Kleine Reise is a beautiful little trip—back to disco and simpler clubbing times, that is.