Border Crossing with Bacon and Beer

Right before the ferry into Germany. Four floor of booze.

Despite the somewhat unified economy that the European Union has created, there still exists vast differences in the price of goods throughout the continent. Naturally, this is a good thing as I can hardly imagine paying Danish prices with my Hungarian wage. What this does create is a whole new business type: border shopping.

In the United States, we have the similar model, namely with fireworks. You always know when you're crossing into a state with more restrictive laws because for fifty miles approaching the border, you'll see signs for these massive emporiums of explosives. Of course when you finally do arrive, they are often nothing more than a stripped circus tent filled with picnic tables that are ready to blow with a single spark.

The infrastructure in Europe is bit more developed as people are buying essentials like beer and cigarettes instead of just the desire to blow things up. They don't exist at every border, just the ones that have large differences in prices and few crossings. For example there seemed to be none at any of the borders until we reached the ferry for Denmark.

I'd first encountered this way of life when I visited Switzerland in 1997. Our host told us how it was much cheaper to drive an hour or two into Germany for grocery shopping than to buy food closer to home. Germany is famous for the cheapness of their food, which is part of reason why Germans don't drive to the Czech Republic to buy anything more than drugs and wild party weekends.

Nowhere is border shopping more prevalent than on the borders into Scandinavia. Before taking our ferry to Denmark, we stopped at a giant booze emporium. They sold other things as well, such as giant bottles of shower gel and candy, but for the most part, it was an orgy of libations. We arrived at 8AM and were greeted by dozens of open bottles of wine for us to try. A smiling Danish man pushed multiple mini-shots of rum. It didn't seem too cost-effective to give so much liquor away, but then without restraint I found myself filling up the cart with ridiculously cheap bottles of wine (note: they were significantly more expensive than Hungarian wine, but by this point, I was thinking with Norwegian money). It was like a winding floor of a warehouse, everything being sold in blocks of six. Or rather, since we are talking Europe, it was like an intoxicating Ikea no assembly required. Now, I was able to compose myself and put most back. I don't really drink much wine and Norway has strict duty limits anyway.

I can't say the same for the oodles of Swedes and Danes who filled their cars with towers of beer and cola. The only people on the ferry who didn't stock up for the next year were us and those unlucky saps with children in the back seat.

Things are even crazier on the border to Norway from Sweden. But it's not beer that people buy but bacon. Since Norway is not in the EU, many food products are much more expensive in Norway. Even though we didn't have much on our shopping list, our travel plans (both driving route and speed) were still dictated by a need to reach a border shop before closing. These are so weaved into the culture that every Norwegian seems to know the names of the shopping centers dotted along the border all the way up to the Arctic Circle. People in Bergen will plan mini holidays to drive the ten hours to Sweden, buy a pile of bacon and ground beef, spend the night on the other side drinking cheaper beer, then drive back.

The whole system is run with mad efficiency and the selection is insane. Americans wouldn't be shocked with their world of Costco and Sam's Club, but in Europe, this level of commercial excess is picture-worthy. There are long freezer and refrigerator isles filled with meat. You can find racks and racks of cheese. There is a wall of bulk candy, nearly every one you can imagine (yet they still didn't have the awesome gummy skulls Michelle and I love). The check-out lines had screens showing exactly how you were to load up the conveyor belt and which way the bar codes needed to face. The cashiers were robots plowing through hundreds of items in seconds. Despite carts loaded to the brim with toilet paper and candy, the lines were relatively short.

That's all bacon.

And the thing is, I get it. Imagine the madness in America if you could save hundreds on grocery bills by just driving to the next state over. For anyone who's seen the Minnesota-Wisconsin on July 3^rd, that's not too hard.