The Reeperbahn in Hamburg is one of Germany’s most famous nightlife areas. It is also its most infamous red-light district. Known for its rough edges, endless indulgences, and bright lights, it isn’t exactly a place the rich and beautiful frequent. More a brimming hub for youngsters, tourists, and residents—especially those on the lower rungs of the socioeconomic ladder in all three categories.
If you come from an upper middle class background, a city like Munich, or both, like me, you wouldn’t fancy walking around there alone at night, and perhaps not even during the day. Prostitutes lure at every street corner. Junkies and dealers pass you by the minute. Every bar looks suspicious.
What you find as soon as you enter one of the many pubs and clubs, however, might throw you for a loop: By and large, everyone is friendly. The born-and-bred Hamburger gladly recommends the best spot for an authentic fish roll. Bartenders welcome you and may even throw in a free round of drinks for your gang. Ask anyone for directions, change, or to light your cigarette, and 19 out of 20 times, they’ll happily comply. Stay for a minute, and they might even tell you an interesting story.
It’s easy to think of the Reeperbahn as a cesspool, a stain on Germany’s cultural vest. Actually, it’s just one of its many congregations of people, and by and large, people are nice. It’s hard to ignore kindness you’ve experienced firsthand, but for that kindness to have a chance, first, you must step into a new place—and, sometimes, out of comfort.
The news is not reality. Reality is reality. See it for yourself, and then make up your own mind.