Is it a coincidence that the illuminated tail around the nucleus of a comet is called “coma” by astrophysicists? Doesn’t matter really, but it fits. Because there is no dive in Hamburg better for achieving exactly this state, than in the Komet.
As soon as you enter, you will encounter a dull, robber-den-like atmosphere – making the friendly greeting by the barman of strangers and newbies all the more astonishing. You can either sit at the bar or in one of the numerous dark corners; the chairs are from the old stock of the cult cinema “3001”. On some weekdays, they open an additional cellar room.
On offer are primarily local bottled beers typical of the scene (Astra and co.) as well as a rather good selection of schnapps and vodka. Music comes either from “the best dukebox in town” – according to Komet – or from changing DJs, whose repertoire ranges from soul, rockabilly and surf to obscure Italo-music.
There are regular events such as cellar karaoke or vinyl record and VHS cassette auctions. There’s even the opportunity to exercise: flipper and table football allow for a minimum of sports. And on the weekends, you will find the occasional guest even take to the dancefloor.
In the Komet, it’s worth taking in the detail: in the – somewhat mangy – toilets, you will find a miner’s lamp called Guido. On the bar, there is not only a large globe for those who would like to improve their geography skills, but also a gigantic, sinister-looking jar of gherkins; late at night, brave souls can sample the specialities tasting of vinegar, onions, pimento, tar and nicotine. And the cigarette automat is prepared for a spontaneous reincarnation of Helmut Schmidt: it offers menthol cigarettes. If you want to crash close to the Reeperbahn but without trouble, with good music and honest beer, has come to the right place at the Komet.