Nocti Vagus

It's a good thing to not believe everything you read. But when the owners of Nocti Vagus describe their restaurant as "Finest Sensuality And Culinary Delight In Absolute Darkness," believe it.

So last week, Francis came to visit us from NYC and one night we went over to a deserted street in the north-east of Berlin, and just as we thought we were getting lost, we found the entrance to the courtyard where Nocti Vagus is located. We were asked to have a seat for a few minutes at the outdoor tables and at first, the hostess couldn't seem to find our reservations (they're always packed) so I was a bit nervous. But about 5 minutes later she came back with confirmation that we would be seated shortly, after the preparation/instructions. It almost felt like we were about to get on some weird space-simulation ride where one of the ride operators tells you what to do in case of emergency, make sure you buckle up, don't panic in case of.. etc etc. But it was more like, "If you have to smoke or go to the bathroom, call your waiter and he'll guide you out of the restaurant to the bathroom or to the smoking area. Turn off all cell phones. Take off all watches and store them in your pockets or pocketbook." (We didn't think Michi's watch glows in the dark but she insisted on taking it off just in case-- we found out that it did actually.) We proceeded to order from 4 fixed 4-course menus that also came with a hefty price. The Vegetarisch Menü (Menu is "Speisekarte" in German, but Menü is fixed-price/course menu) was 45 Euros. The Überraschung Menü (Surprise Menu) was 50, Francis ordered that. Michi ordered the Fish Menü. Despite the price, the experience was so. worth. it.

We entered the lounge area and then walked down a flight of dimly lit stairs and then into a sort of vestibule that was even dimmer. Then the lights were then turned off and pitch dark blackness filled the space around us as the door was opened and by our waiter, Thomas. He asked me to put my hands on his shoulders and the boys to do the same (thus creating a chain) and led us into the restaurant with one less sense than we had before.

We tried to hard to see something, anything, and I noticed I was holding my eyes wide open, as if I was going to miss something or trip over something even though everything was completely, totally dark!

We sat down, carefully but excitedly and tried to find our bearings by feeling around the table. How big was the restaurant? Are we in the back/front/side of the room? How big is our table? Who is next to us? Is that music a CD or is it live? Is Thomas still here or did he go away to another table? How are we going to pour our drinks? Strangely enough, we all sort of immediately created maps/layouts of the restaurant in our minds from what we had heard (literally) while coming into the restaurant, from the direction we were led in, some various mental spacial assessments, and also pure imagination. (I actually imagined the tables had a white table cloth, were a dark wood color with black leather on the seats. God knows what material/fabric they were!)

When Thomas came back over with our drinks, (we poured them ourselves, which actually wasn't difficult at all) the first thing I asked him was if he had nightvision goggles. But he said no. Then we asked about the music. It was live. Here's the thing-- it's not just a dark restaurant. While many "dark dining" experiences simply amount to a (relatively) dim room with blindfolded diners, and the ones that are truly "dark" have waiters that use nightvision goggles to see. Nocti Vagus' waiters do not. Nightvision goggles wouldn't help them anyway, because all the staff are blind. So for a few hours, we were all equals in that room with only 4 functioning senses.

Markus worked there as the in-house musician (playing lovely acoustic pieces on guitar) and doubled as a masseuse. Francis and I got massages after dinner, and they were out of this world! I was curious and not afraid to ask Markus his story. He told us he was "older" (you couldn't tell how old he was by his voice nor his hands) and that he had glaucoma at a very young age and went completely blind in 2002. He's undergoing alternative treatments such as sending frequency/electric impulses to not let the eye muscles atrophy.

We weren't able to fixate on the physical, and it seemed as though, for a short while, our other 4 senses had superpowers. We were able to smell, feel, taste, and hear more. We enjoyed our dinner for over 3 hours and never once got antsy about why our food wasn't there yet, and the visual part of complaining in a restaurants just sunk into my mind now-- how our vision affects how fast we do things and react to things. For example, how people look around and see waiters bumbling about, but not coming to their table and serving them so they get their panties all in a ruffle about it. That wasn't the case here and the dining experience was made so peaceful, pleasant, FUN, and pretty profound without having been given access to see what's around you. The world of sight-deprivation was this weird new world of nervously exciting discoveries for us. Francis noticed he didn't talk as much. Michi couldn't decide whether to keep his eyes open or shut. After talking about it for a moment, we all decided to keep our eyes open, just as we normally would. We were all trying to tap each other's feet/shoulders/hands/head and trick the person into thinking you didn't do it.

After arriving home, Michi laughed and told me he wondered what would happen if we took my parents to this restaurant. I laughed with wide eyes and instantly recalled the infamous story of my parents, my cousins, and me out at Red Lobster one night for my little cousin's birthday. As the lights dimmed in the restaurant around 8pm, my dad nearly freaked out at the waiter to put the lights back up-- not because he was afraid of the darkness, but because he was pissed off that he couldn't see his food! A lot of people say that they wouldn't be able to eat in a restaurant where you couldn't see the food. But just imagine how a blind person lives every single day then. The food at Nocti Vagus was absolutely amazing (in fact, I actually had never heard Michi rave about food like that ever!), and I'm sure a bit of our overzealous reactions could be attributed to the enhancement of our other senses. I actually had zucchini lime soup as my second course and even fed Michi a few spoonfuls (it was So good) and didn't even get any on him (or me for that matter.) Amazing, since on an everyday basis, I usually need to wear one of those smocks that we used to wear in kindergarten. I was so excited about the whole experience that I mostly had forgotten what I ordered, but my main course was a sesame-encrusted eggplant dish on a bed of mushroom risotto. Michi had various types of fish (he forgot what he ordered too!) but his appetizer was a delicious monkfish. Francis still has no clue what he ate (except for the fact that all the courses except dessert were meat-based) since he had the surprise menu-- we asked the waiters as well but they didn't even know! And if you're wondering, the chef worked upstairs (chef wasn't blind) and sent the food down by dumb waiter then communicated via headsets to the waiters which plate was which.

When we were done with our coffee and dessert and ready to leave, we followed the snaps of Thomas' hand to get us into position (a straight line) to form the shoulder-chain-link again and walk out. It was after 11pm.

I'm doing some research if they have any other restaurants like this anywhere else in the world, but haven't had any luck yet. I would recommend anyone to go there (uh, except my dad) and, for a little while, experience life in total darkness.


Anyway, some pictures from Franny's first Berlin visit:

Getting ready for the big game.


On the way to the Germany - Spain Euro Cup Final.







Watching the game outdoors.




The day after, near the Brandenburg Gate, where the German National Team showed up to say thanks for all the support.


Holocaust Memorial.


In the dome of the Reichstag (German Parliament.)


We were in there!




From the weeee top.




Speaking of Nocti Vagus: Us chilling on a the terrace at a club called Watergate (no Nixon relation) in the wee hours of the night (morning?) Yea.