Desolate is perhaps the only word which would describe this lost world, hidden behind a heap of rubble and a nondescript parking lot in the middle of Berlin's glamourous, newly built city centre. A huge, dark hall, damp and musty, its red brick skeleton blackened by wind, rain and pollution, with endlessly high, windowless walls. Only a ray of fresh spring sunlight, shining in from the open doorway into this cold, cathedral-like construction reveals a broken record, lying discarded on the floor. Three ancient red velvet cinema seats are visible in one alcove, moth-eaten and worn. Remnants of the days when the walls of this cavern trembled to the throbbing beats of hard, pure techno, and hundreds of sparsely clad teenagers raved the nights away in a building which once served as a transformer station for the city centre's population.

Better known as the "E-Werk" , this techno disco closed three years ago. Now the whole transformer station itself is up for sale and due for modernisation, drawing a line under yet another Berlin myth.

The days are over when Berlin's youngsters were free to choose from a wide range of party locations in all imaginable shapes and sizes. There might have been shortages in East Berlin, but after the wall came down, there was more than enough of one thing: space. Large abandoned buildings, blocks of flats, closed down shops and disused train stations - a paradise for young and creative Berlin minds.

The transformer station in the city centre, built in 1928 by architect Hans Heinrich Müller, was one of twelve of its kind. It was once a status symbol for a city, which succeeded in supplying its households with electricity at such a fast pace, that it was soon regarded as one of the most modern capitals in Europe. Squeezed in between various other buildings in the narrow streets of Berlin's busy centre, space was rare, and Müller had to extend in height, in order to fit in all the necessary equipment.

Left to decay

During the Second World War, the transformer station at Buchhändlerhof, as the area was called, was badly damaged. Situated in the east of the city, the GDR government left the station to decay and the red brick neogothic façade, once Müller's pride and joy, crumble. Later, plans were made for the station to be used as a warehouse, but by then the city was reunited, and the future of the building was once again uncertain.

It didn't take long before Berlin's techno fans realized the potential of the building and soon took over. The huge, dark rooms, with their high ceilings, numerous small side rooms and rusty machinery, several metres from any neighbouring building or road, seemed the perfect place to rave in the turmoil of post-unified Berlin. Ravers flocked to the "E-Werk" as it was called in the early nineties, especially during the Love Parade .

The group "Planet.com", founders of those endless, legendary nights at "E-Werk", are now chief organisors of Berlin's most famous mass event, the Love Parade, but like many of Berlin's creative and successful young minds, they too started off in a dark, damp room, under the earth.

In the Eighties, coal cellars were the ideal breeding places for ideas and creativity in a city like Berlin. At the height of its popularity as a world famous techno club, the E-Werk was known as the "techno temple". When the E-Werk had to shut its doors, a chapter in the history of Berlin closed too. The owners, the Bewag , an electricity company which has had state monopoly in Berlin since 1922, put it up for sale, hoping for buyers from the multimedia or internet branch. They advertised the ideal shape and size of this tall, lofty building and its prime location right in the heart of the city.

The days are over when numerous warehouses, apartment blocks and electricity stations stood forlorn and empty, due to uncleared ownership claims after the fall of the wall, the result of confiscation once by the communists, and earlier, by the nazis. In the confused aftermath of the fall of the wall, no one knew who owned what, and many of these buildings remained empty for years to come.

Cocktails in saucepans

The young people in Berlin, however, could hardly believe their luck, and seized the oportunity to hold secret gatherings in these disused flats and dark backyards. Creativity and innovation flowed freely and many a party took place by candlelight, with food cooked on a gas cooker and cocktails mixed in saucepans. Camouflage became a must, as the majority of these hidden meetings were not licensed, and a night on the town was sometimes more like a treasure hunt.

With the major development of Berlin's streets, these gatherings slowly disappeared. In the city centre, Mitte, the tall houses characteristic of the area have undergone complete renovation and modernisation. Multimedia and internet companies, design and music firms are now the clientele to occupy these buildings, all of which have their very own specific history.

Some of the trendy, creative young men and women sitting in sleek offices here have their own personal memories of the houses they now work in - days when they too, sat in cellars and thought out secret advertising strategies - not for their present-day employers - but for their favourite hidden meeting-place.