Whenever I go overseas I’m eager to experience ‘the scene’, so as well as running amok with Northern Ireland’s lesbian mafia at the wedding, my gf and I got down with the gays in Barcelona, Berlin and London.
But while there are boy venues aplently nearly everywhere, it’s not always easy to find where the ladies hang.
After exploring some testosterone-heavy Spanish gay bars, my partner (in crime) and I resorted to stalking lesbians on the street to see where they were going. We clocked a cute indie couple and figured they’d know where the fun was.
After following them for 20 or so minutes down laneways, adjusting our pace so we didn’t freak them out, they disappeared into a slick modern establishment. This, of course, turned out to be the apartment block in which they lived.
Luckily the next night we discovered Aire, Barcelona’s biggest lesbian venue. We had an ace time drinking Spanish favourites like Cacique con limon (rum with lemon squash) and pranced around to the usual mix of Katy Perry and Pink.
While our drink choices were culturally specific, everything else about the club was a little too familiar. Lesbians do have a ‘look’ that transcends national identity — except in Germany where everyone looks pretty dykey, the men included.
Fortunately, in the sexually-liberated hipster mecca of Berlin, straight girls aren’t too offended if you try it on.
Although we didn’t go to any specific gay parties, we formed our own party of ‘Dykes On Pushbikes’ — six adventurous Aussie girls pedalling through Europe including an ace Melbourne chick we randomly collected on our way to a park! We named our bike gang Les Berlin 2011. Wunderbar.
Last stop, London. Here we visited the original lady-lover hotspot, Candy Bar, where the nightly lesbian dramas are now filmed for a UK reality series. Can you imagine the Glasshouse or Wednesday night at the Bank on TV?!
On our final night we ended up at a gay bar called Heaven where a Porn Idol competition was taking place. Naked boys, alcohol, judges and a stage. Need I say more? What a trip.
By MONIQUE SCHAFTER