Hamburg Nights: Gerbers & Whiskey

With a steady hand on the walkie-talkie, the iPod and a sandwich, I realize that I don’t have enough hands to drive. The Jim Beam flows as we play Truth or Dare at 160 kilometers per hour. Lights are turned onto the backs of shameless urinators and eyes cast at underage piano bar singers through a haze of smoke and mixed cocktails.

After a small amount of confusion and angry radio calls, we arrive. Some go out. Some to bed, uncertain of what they will find on the streets or where they will wake up. The only certainty is that 2005 will end with our throats scratched from smoke, shouting and sugar and that we will be in good company.

More details to come. Check the gallery often.

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