This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/may/20/drive-in-bingo-sweden-young-generation-new-fans
The article has changed 4 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
Version 0 | Version 1 |
---|---|
Drive-in bingo: young Swedes hooked on playing numbers game in their cars | Drive-in bingo: young Swedes hooked on playing numbers game in their cars |
(34 minutes later) | |
“Quick, turn on the ignition!” yelps Stina Broberg, her purple dabber poised over a page of numbers balanced on the steering wheel. With only one more needed for a full house, she must parp the horn fast if it comes up. | “Quick, turn on the ignition!” yelps Stina Broberg, her purple dabber poised over a page of numbers balanced on the steering wheel. With only one more needed for a full house, she must parp the horn fast if it comes up. |
Deep in the Swedish countryside, things are getting tense. The only sound to emerge from 130 vehicles parked in a field in orderly rows is the occasional squeal of frustration as numbers boom out over a cluster of loudspeakers. | Deep in the Swedish countryside, things are getting tense. The only sound to emerge from 130 vehicles parked in a field in orderly rows is the occasional squeal of frustration as numbers boom out over a cluster of loudspeakers. |
This is drive-in bingo: a Swedish pastime enjoyed by tens of thousands of countryside-dwellers throughout the summer. While conventional bingo halls in Sweden have suffered from the rise of online and televised games, the drive-in has survived as a more social way of playing the game. And now it is attracting a new and younger demographic. | This is drive-in bingo: a Swedish pastime enjoyed by tens of thousands of countryside-dwellers throughout the summer. While conventional bingo halls in Sweden have suffered from the rise of online and televised games, the drive-in has survived as a more social way of playing the game. And now it is attracting a new and younger demographic. |
Why sit in a bingo hall when you can enjoy nature at the same time? | Why sit in a bingo hall when you can enjoy nature at the same time? |
“For me this is the summer – when the drive-in bingo starts you know it is almost here,” says Frida Stån, 27, a personal assistant to a disabled person. She is eight months’ pregnant and enjoying a last chance to socialise before the baby comes. | |
Stån and Broberg, 26, have parked their ageing Volvo in a field with some 300 locals for the first night of the season. The sun is out and a warm breeze from the lake is ruffling the birch trees near the small south-western town of Lidköping. | Stån and Broberg, 26, have parked their ageing Volvo in a field with some 300 locals for the first night of the season. The sun is out and a warm breeze from the lake is ruffling the birch trees near the small south-western town of Lidköping. |
“I love just sitting in the car with some friends and a coffee,” she says. She and Broberg, a childcare worker, have each paid 185 Swedish kronor (£14) for bingo cards needed in the many games to be played in tonight’s three-hour session. | “I love just sitting in the car with some friends and a coffee,” she says. She and Broberg, a childcare worker, have each paid 185 Swedish kronor (£14) for bingo cards needed in the many games to be played in tonight’s three-hour session. |
At the height of the summer, the field at Lidköping can be packed with carloads of picnickers. This is also when there is more money to be made, as the prize pots build up to 40,000 kronor (£3,100). Tonight, locals are playing for dozens of cash prizes. When they complete a row, they blow their horn and a yellow-jacketed official checks the numbers. | At the height of the summer, the field at Lidköping can be packed with carloads of picnickers. This is also when there is more money to be made, as the prize pots build up to 40,000 kronor (£3,100). Tonight, locals are playing for dozens of cash prizes. When they complete a row, they blow their horn and a yellow-jacketed official checks the numbers. |
“Bingo indoors is not as popular as the drive-in,” says Tomas Svensson, one of the organisers. “Why sit in a bingo hall when you can enjoy nature at the same time?” | “Bingo indoors is not as popular as the drive-in,” says Tomas Svensson, one of the organisers. “Why sit in a bingo hall when you can enjoy nature at the same time?” |
Many traditional bingo halls have closed in recent years, but with fewer overheads the drive-in – run by volunteers and often aimed at raising money for local sports – has remained popular. | Many traditional bingo halls have closed in recent years, but with fewer overheads the drive-in – run by volunteers and often aimed at raising money for local sports – has remained popular. |
“Most private companies have left the bingo halls – they can’t make enough money,” says Anders Manheden, of the West Swedish Sports Confederation, a non-profit organisation that bought up many of the bingo halls when they closed to keep money flowing into sports. “The drive-ins are out in the rural areas, far from the nearest bingo hall,” he says. | “Most private companies have left the bingo halls – they can’t make enough money,” says Anders Manheden, of the West Swedish Sports Confederation, a non-profit organisation that bought up many of the bingo halls when they closed to keep money flowing into sports. “The drive-ins are out in the rural areas, far from the nearest bingo hall,” he says. |
The eccentric but endearing nature of the phenomenon is summed up in a song by Swedish indie musician Jens Lekman: “So this is what they do out here for fun? They play bingo and let their engines run? … Just bring your savings and a bottle of wine / to Friday night’s reversal of time.” | The eccentric but endearing nature of the phenomenon is summed up in a song by Swedish indie musician Jens Lekman: “So this is what they do out here for fun? They play bingo and let their engines run? … Just bring your savings and a bottle of wine / to Friday night’s reversal of time.” |
“It evokes a sense of nostalgia in me – but it’s like a strange nostalgia for a time that never was,” Lekman says. “I think 1950s America sometimes echoes through Sweden, particularly the rural and smalltown areas, where a lot of people own classic American cars and listen to 1950s American rock. Drive-in bingo seems like a cross between the 1950s American love for drive-ins and the Swedish love for bingo.” | “It evokes a sense of nostalgia in me – but it’s like a strange nostalgia for a time that never was,” Lekman says. “I think 1950s America sometimes echoes through Sweden, particularly the rural and smalltown areas, where a lot of people own classic American cars and listen to 1950s American rock. Drive-in bingo seems like a cross between the 1950s American love for drive-ins and the Swedish love for bingo.” |
What started out in the early 1990s as a geeky way of playing bingo has grown into a family day out in the countryside, says Christian Baynard, who licenses the games for West Götaland county. Many city-dwellers have never even heard of drive-in bingo, he says: “And when they do, they laugh.” | What started out in the early 1990s as a geeky way of playing bingo has grown into a family day out in the countryside, says Christian Baynard, who licenses the games for West Götaland county. Many city-dwellers have never even heard of drive-in bingo, he says: “And when they do, they laugh.” |
Last year he issued 30 licenses for drive-ins, with the largest game bringing in 5m kronor last year. There are no central statistics, but websites for drive-in bingo enthusiasts suggest there are scores of clubs across the country. But the game has passed its heyday, Baynard says, and is undergoing a slow decline as more Swedes move to the cities. | Last year he issued 30 licenses for drive-ins, with the largest game bringing in 5m kronor last year. There are no central statistics, but websites for drive-in bingo enthusiasts suggest there are scores of clubs across the country. But the game has passed its heyday, Baynard says, and is undergoing a slow decline as more Swedes move to the cities. |
In Lidköping, however, the evening is hotting up. There is a chorus of horns as people return to their cars following a break for hotdogs and coffee; they are impatient to get started again as the evening approaches its climax. | In Lidköping, however, the evening is hotting up. There is a chorus of horns as people return to their cars following a break for hotdogs and coffee; they are impatient to get started again as the evening approaches its climax. |
“People take it very seriously and they keep us on our toes,” says Svensson, 56, who organises the drive-in with his brother Mikael. Their main aim is to raise money for a local wrestling club and they expect to take 1.5m kronor over the 14-week season. | “People take it very seriously and they keep us on our toes,” says Svensson, 56, who organises the drive-in with his brother Mikael. Their main aim is to raise money for a local wrestling club and they expect to take 1.5m kronor over the 14-week season. |
“Every hour I spend here I make 1,000 kronor for my club,” says Mikael, 51, a civil servant in the air force. “And it’s nice to bump into people in town who I have met at the drive-in.” | “Every hour I spend here I make 1,000 kronor for my club,” says Mikael, 51, a civil servant in the air force. “And it’s nice to bump into people in town who I have met at the drive-in.” |
Amanda Johansson, 24, a shop assistant, is playing for only the second time, with a car-full of friends. “It’s cool,” she says. “And it’s cheap. We come with coffee and candy – it’s a social thing. And it’s becoming younger and younger.” | Amanda Johansson, 24, a shop assistant, is playing for only the second time, with a car-full of friends. “It’s cool,” she says. “And it’s cheap. We come with coffee and candy – it’s a social thing. And it’s becoming younger and younger.” |
This time the jackpot is scooped by an ecstatic nurse who is here with her mother-in-law. They have been coming on and off for eight years. At the hotdog stall is schoolgirl Emma Karvik, 19, who is working here to raise money for her football team. “It’s a nice way for young people to hang out, and they can also win some cash,” she says. “And anyway, I guess there isn’t much else to do round here.” | This time the jackpot is scooped by an ecstatic nurse who is here with her mother-in-law. They have been coming on and off for eight years. At the hotdog stall is schoolgirl Emma Karvik, 19, who is working here to raise money for her football team. “It’s a nice way for young people to hang out, and they can also win some cash,” she says. “And anyway, I guess there isn’t much else to do round here.” |