Maybe I've spent too long in Eastern Europe, but when I came to visit Berlin I was more than a little chuffed with my accommodation. Toilets flushed, showers sprayed at a perpendicular angle to the showerheads (rather than in random directions), and not only were staff present on reception but they did useful things, like answer questions, whilst they were there. What's more there were no lingering smells of mould, urine or disinfectant and the walls were decorated with bright paint jobs that weren't peeling off the plasterwork. Weird, but I kinda liked it. Apart from the fact that the standards were top notch (and still dirt cheap), my stay here was also blessed by the kind of random experiences Euros just can't buy. One of the off-duty staff, seeing me looking sad and lonesome at the hostel bar, got chatting, and before I knew it we were all off to an illegal rave in a crumbling tower block on the edge of Mitte. After a few hours of pulling shapes to minimal techno (in between snorting illegal substances off the filthiest toilet seats I've ever put my nose next to), it was time to hit Berghain. This, of course, was back in the days before it was a household name. An legendary night was born.

If clowning around is on your agenda, then take my advice and book a seat at The Circus.

4.5 / 5

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