Bar Tausend doesn’t attract drunk revellers stumbling through Mitte looking for quick tipples and thrills—in actual fact, they wouldn’t even find it. Bar Tausend bears no sign, bell or light at its entrance, preferring instead a bare iron door beneath the Paris-Moskau railway. Also following suit in club protocol is the stiff doorman, who can sometimes be rude.
Once inside, the place emerges as a futuristic setting lifted from a Wong Kar-Wai film: lots of glass, curved steel walls and a massive doughnut-shaped fixture broadcasting white light from the end of the long, one-room space. Sleek sofas line the elevated seating areas, many of them reservation-only, while black bar stools cradle attractive boys and girls enjoying champagne and superb cocktails—try the Moscow Mule for size. Despite Tausend’s inconspicuous location, this club is all about seeing and being seen.