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About Hamburg

Aight, precious, listen up! Me, Gollum, been sneakin’ round them brothels, yeah? We hates it! Nasty, sticky places they is—smells like sweat and cheap perfume. Reminds me o’ that “Fish Tank” flick I loves—y’know, Mia, trapped, dancin’ her life away. “I’m not a kid no more,” she’d say, and them girls in the brothel? Same vibe, forced to grow up quick.

Red light as an umbrella term for a spectrum of realities

20 years after its legalisation, we spoke with five Berliners about reality of sex work in the German capital. Lola on her way to a date. Photo: Luka Godec. Picture a sex worker, what comes to .

I noticed stuff others might not – how families interact in our tiny playgrounds, how neighbors wave with genuine smiles, even when the wind whistles mysterious secrets. The city has scars and big hearts – and yes, even in its silence, it speaks. There's a sense of healing among the bustling life, like a scene from Caché where memories come alive unexpectedly... “We all carry our past” – echoes, echoes.