In the forest with men who cruise because Grindr annoys them
"I think there's someone I like," says Max. I nod and leave him alone. - We've visited a cruising spot where gay men have uncomplicated sex away from dating apps.
Gays are all about sex. At least according to a popular cliché. Now it is impossible to make universally valid statements about a community. But there is no denying that this cliché holds at least a little truth: a darkroom can be found at many gay parties, gay saunas are not just about sweating in the cubicle, and parks, toilets and car parks are misused for cruising.
Anonymous sex has a long tradition among gays and was necessary for a long time in order to avoid state persecution. Homosexuality was forbidden in Austria until 1971 and homosexual acts were prosecuted. Sex between men could land you in prison or even earlier, under National Socialism, in a concentration camp. So for a long time, there were few opportunities for gay people to find a partner. This is why public places for finding sex were established.
Fortunately, things have changed. Today, apps make it easy to organise sex dates without having to stand around in the woods for hours like in the old days. This could have meant the end of cruising. But it hasn't. Gay men are still cruising. But why?
I'm writing to Max. We are friends and I know that he cruises. Max actually has a different name. After thinking about it for a while, he decides that he doesn't want to give his name here. He's 29 and in an open relationship. When he answers, he's on his way to a crusing venue on the Danube Island in Vienna. Coincidence. He sends me his location and I make my way to him.
It's Friday, 12 noon. We meet next to the river. Max is lying naked on an elevated meadow, sunbathing. Behind him is the forest, from which a corpulent man has just emerged. He is also naked, wearing a cock ring around his penis. There are about 20 other men lying around us, all unclothed.
Apart from me, there is only one man dressed, he comes from the AIDS organisation and hands out condoms. He hands us two packs.
Max likes to come here in summer. He goes swimming, and if he feels like it and sees someone he likes, he disappears into the forest with them. Does he prefer cruising to dating apps? He nods. "In my opinion, sex often arises with the right mood and from the dramaturgy that follows a certain logic." It can also happen that something develops with someone who is perhaps not his preferred type. "That would never happen on Grindr."
This is a space without conventions, where you make your own rules.
Next to us, two naked men are lolling on top of each other, kissing. Both have an erection. "This is a space without conventions, where you make the rules yourself," says Max. No one here cares that someone might walk past at any moment. On the contrary. That's how it's meant to be.
I go into the forest with Max. He shows me the paths, the indentations and the winding paths. The trees we walk past remind me of labyrinths in a darkroom. It almost seems as if the forest has adapted to the sexual behaviour of gay men over the decades. Men keep coming towards us, scrutinising us and trying to find out whether we are interested without saying a word.
"It's almost ridiculous, but nobody talks while cruising," says Max. Movements and looks reveal whether someone is interested. "Talking to each other would perhaps make sex too personal," he surmises. And the impersonal is precisely the attraction.
We meet two men in the middle of the path. Their trousers are hanging down at the back of their knees, they are jerking each other off and looking at us. We walk on, but have to squeeze past them because they are blocking the way.
"Is it okay if you go back to the meadow on your own?" Max asks me.
I look at him questioningly.
"I think there's someone I like," he says.
I nod and leave him alone.
The historian Andres Brunner used to go cruising himself, today he runs the Centre for queer history in Vienna and researches gay sex, among other things. Police criminal records are his main source. "The inhibition threshold to go to secret gay bars was too high for many men," says Brunner. Because many men did not identify themselves as gay, some did not want to visit these venues. "That's why cruising venues developed, because they were anonymous and not defined in advance," says Brunner. Nobody had to reveal anything, neither their name nor their identity, nor their origin or social status. "That gave the men security, because any knowledge could have been used against them in the event of persecution." They also didn't have to come out of the closet.
Today, things seem to be very different. The apps and the anonymity of cruising are combined.
In Austria, sex in public is generally not prohibited. The authorities only have to intervene if other people feel harassed by it. This can happen from time to time, as people sometimes cruise in the middle of the city. This can then be classed as an administrative offence or causing a public nuisance. Then, according to Austria § Section 218 StGB a fine or a prison sentence of up to six months. The Vienna police know the places where cruising takes place, says Brunner. "But the authorities don't care."
A few days later, I drive to a forest just outside Vienna to find out more about cruising. The forest is next to a busy road. I had read on a gay blog that many men from the neighbouring office complex come here looking for sex during their break or after work.
Everywhere I look, there are condom wrappers and used condoms on the forest floor. Handkerchiefs and wet wipes tell me where to go and I follow them like clues on a treasure hunt. A few men come towards me, obviously looking for a partner. I quicken my pace and turn off onto other paths as soon as someone gets too close. I feel uncomfortable alone among all the trees.
But I open Grindr. "Are you cruising?" someone asks. Dating apps and cruising seem to complement each other. I ask if he would like to answer a few questions. He declines. Once again, I walk along all the paths until I leave the forest. The men are obviously not here to talk.
In summer, many of these places are well frequented. Public toilets, so-called boxes or flaps, used to be particularly popular. But there are hardly any of these left in Vienna. I find the few remaining places on a blog. Two underground toilets, one near the U3 underground line in the 7th district and one near Stephansplatz in the 1st district. But when I get there, I realise that both underground stations have just had their public toilets converted into Sanifair toilets for a fee. Heavy soiling and vandalism are the reasons for thiswhy "the age of free toilets is coming to an end", writes Die Presse. Is it really just that? In any case, gay initiation will no longer be possible here in future.
So instead I visit Johannes, 29, who is tall, has blond hair, a piercing in his nose and goes cruising in the summer as regularly as others go to the outdoor pool.
"Grindr is the main reason why I haven't had a smartphone for a year and a half," he says. "I spent too much time writing on the app without having any real contact with men." When cruising, he likes to get a feel for the men before he has sex with them, he explains. "That's not possible on dating apps."
I can understand that many men are frustrated by Grindr. I know the feeling. You spend a lot of time on the app without actually meeting someone. The desire usually doesn't last until a real meeting. That's why I've deleted the app time and time again, only to download it again. That seems to be the case for many people. According to a satisfaction study from 2018, 77 per cent of users said that Grindr made them unhappy.
"I like the animalistic way men roam through the forest looking for a sex partner," says Johannes. I ask him why this is so common among gay men in particular. "We all like to shag. But once you've been an outsider in society, you're no longer subject to so many social constraints," he surmises.
But it's also about the thrill, because there's always the possibility of getting caught, he says. The active search for a sex partner is the exciting centrepiece of cruising. The apps on which men cruise online, so to speak, and often exchange dick pics and sexual preferences before a date, take away precisely this excitement. And some seem to be missing it.
The times when cruising was a reaction to oppression are over. What used to be a necessity due to the law is now just a way to fulfil oneself sexually. And it still seems to have its appeal. I can understand that. Sex seems to take on a whole new dynamic of its own when cruising. Although I wasn't looking for sex, I could feel it. It's arousing to roam through the forest and listen to the signals of other men - more exciting than just tapping away on a mobile phone screen.
