Arcade time, sir? Capital idea! Copenhagen: Bip Bip Bar

This ossum fan design got more than 10,000 likes on the Lego Ideas forum. Sadly, Lego chose not to go with it.

Denmark: Land of bacon, butter and interlocking building blocks (I’m talking about LEGO people!). Let’s face it, even if that’s all they had, Denmark would still be brilliant. The Danes think so too. That’s partly because they know how to look after themselves. But also because they know how to look after each other. Compared to other countries, they’re big on the ideas of collective responsibility and trust – even when it comes to politicians, which is probably why Denmark consistently ranks near the very top of the happiest nations in the world.

JJ’s Arcade, Pintrest (not my image!).

In terms of its lanscapes, Denmark is relatively flat. Its gently rolling hills and famland average a mere 30 m above sea level. Don’t worry, though, it does have its points of high excitment!

Copenhagen

Nyhavn, Copenhagen. A nice spot for some Carlsberg and contemplation.

One of the high(light)s is the capital city, Copenhagen. The Danes know it as København, but you might be more familiar with its Yorkshire pronunciation: ‘Cope-en-hey-gu-un’. As in, ‘Hey! Hey! Cope-en-hey-gu-un! Bright lights, such a wonderful sight‘. Sigh. Gotta love that Black Lace.

Copenhagen is a big city, with all the facilities and amenities you would expect. As a tourist, you’ll find loads to do. I’d recommed a visit to the National Museum of Denmark. It’s huge, and packed full of amazing (and surprising) artefacts – way too many to peruse comfortably in one day. But if you have kids in tow, you can get ’em to dress up like this, and keep the photos safe to embarras them when they’re older.

Before lockdown, I was lucky enough to visit Denmark several times in relatively quick succession, with work, and on holiday with the family. Jutland is worth a visit if you get the chance, especially the old towns like Ribe on the west coast. They’re very attractive indeed, like real life lego villages. So is the original Legoland amusement park, and the more recent Lego House – aka ‘The ultimate LEGO experience‘! Top tip if you plan to visit either of those, check with the local McDonalds if they’re offering discount vouchers with their Happy Meals – it makes a big difference (you can often find them in northern Germany too if you’re taking a road trip).

Ribe. A real-life lego town.

Back in August 2017, I found myself ‘between gigs’ in Copenhagen with some time on my hands. Being a hopeless arcade addict, my feet started pulling me west of the ‘Indre by’ part of the city centre, to its Blågård quarter.

The Bip Bip Bar: Wesselgade 4, Copenhagen 2200 (2017)

Dronning Louise Bridge by night.

While it’s only a kilometre or two off the beaten tourist track, this is no scary suburb. There are still bistros and bars aplenty along the main road and side streets alike. It’s just that they’re more heavily frequented by Danes than visitors – the real deal, so to speak. Crossing Dronning Louise’s Bridge, turning left onto Peblinge Dossering, and then shoogling up and left onto Wesselgade, you’ll find yourself stood face-to-face with the unassuming brick-built facade of a regular Danish tenement block. There, happily ensconsed in the basement of Wesselgade 4, was the Bip Bip Bar.

The first room was where you’d check in, buy your drinks and get settled, or occasionally return for a chillax in front of the big screen showing tastefully-curated retro-snippets on heavy rotation. When I was there, they also had an old pong console hooked up to a portable black and white TV – retro-chic (or is that kitsch) at its best! The staff were welcoming and helpful – as were the regulars. Over the course of the evening I enjoyed quite a few chats and games of doubles with the Danish enthusiasts!

That all happened through to the right, in a much larger space of knocked-through basement rooms, where the arcade action was at.

There were 7 or 8 classic pins, and maybe 4 or 5 candy cabs, stacked with more than just the usual range of shooters. For me, though, the highlight of the evening was the selection of woodies, of which there must have been about two dozen – or more – all told.

Back in the heyday of the arcade scene, the misspent youth of Denmark (?!) enjoyed a not dissimilar mixture of arcade cabinetry to that of their spotty cousins across the North Sea. While they did get their hands on the occasional dedicated cabinet – as you’ll find in the Bip Bip Bar, with its Atari Centipede and Star Wars cabs, Sega Outrun upright and others, the bulk were generic woodies. While we Ukanians might have expected a row of gleaming Electorcoin Goliaths, the Danes had their own manufacturers. And there were several neat little rows of their angular woodies here, fully-loaded with an impressive range of Golden Age standards.

When I was there, I played: Rainbow Islands, Bubble Bobble, Ghosts’n’Goblins, Kung Fu Master, Wonder Boy, Moon Patrol, Robotron 2084, Galaga, Centipede, Star Wars, Outrun, Snow Bros, and 1943. Phew! I was there for ages!!! I also saw Donkey Kong, Blaster, Gyruss, Go for Broke, Lethal Enforcers, as well as a bunch of Fighters I didn’t touch (we’ve covered that already). But there were so many, I can’t remember them all.

In terms of condition, almost all the machines were top notch. Maybe a stuck button or two on one of them, but that was all. By the end of the night, there had inevitably been a few casualties. GnG was flaking out, and a screen on one of the others was failing. But come on – that’s only to be expected with aging arcade technology. In fact, like the squished animals you sometimes see at the side of the road, it’s actually a sign of a healthy ecosystem (maybe)! Squeezing my synapses even more tightly together, I seem to recall there was only the one LCD screen – in 1943 – albeit with the original bezel still in place, so it didn’t look quite as awful as it might have done. And as far as I’m concerned that’s not just a good thing, it’s essential for the proper arcade experience.

The new Bip Bip Bar at Fælledvej 7, Copenhagen (Google Maps).

Now, the more observant among you may be wondering at the laboured use of the past tense in my ramblings so far. Yeah, well, it’s deliberate. But not beacause of any stylistic pretensions. The thing is, when I was checking the address for this place, to find a better picture of the outside, I discovered that it’s moved!

A few years after my visit, it seems that Bip Bip relocated to a larger and airer venue just up the road at Fælledvej 7. They’ve kept most of the old games, but expanded and improved their collection, especially on the pinball front, and the selection of old computer systems on display and available for play. They’re no longer stuck with the same old Pong (Tee hee hee!). You can now get down and dirty with a C64 while your pint of Tuborg watches!

When I went to the old venue, I’m pretty sure it was pay-per-play. Now you have a choice. You can still choose to pay-per-play, for the reasonable price of DKK 5 a game (about 60p). Or you can opt to pay by the hour for freeplay. Details of their current gameslist, bar menu, and session charges can be found on their fancy new website, here.

The Verdict?

I really enjoyed my visit to the old Bip Bip Bar on Wesselgade. It was clean, friendly, and packed with well-maintained video games from the Golden Age of arcade gaming – and beyond. From what I can see, the new venue takes things to the next level. Literally. The games are now upstairs instead of in the basement! Would I go back to the reboot if I’m ever back in Copenhagen? Having seen the selection of games on offer, and the very resonable prices they’re charing, abso-flippin-tively.

Thanks for reading!

Next up: ‘Auld Reekie’ – that’s Edinburgh, folks!

Arcade time, sir? Capital idea! Reykjavík: Freddi

You know how sometimes you wait hours and hours for a bus to come, and none do. Then, all of a sudden, and without warning, three turn up at once? Well, sometimes that’s the way with arcades.

Due to a happy conflation of circumstances, I recently found myself en route to Reykjavík in Iceland. My point of departure was Glasgow airport. While Glasgow has a lot to recommend it, I’m not convinced that the airport is one of those things. For some reason, the queue for security is funnelled through a long and narrow channel that always seems to slow things down to a standstill. Forewarned is nevertheless forearmed (not back-handed). In anticipation of the inevitable delay, I arrived with what I though was time to spare. But when I finally got through the x-ray machine, there were only minutes to wait until the gate opened.

And it was only then that I noticed this – Glarcade, a shiney new video arcade!

OK, so it’s small, it only has modern games, and the actual video games are all racers. But given my discovery at Belfast airport (as reported in my previous blogpost), it’ seems to be following’s mere existence seems to point to a trend. Could it be, that in arcade terms, the airports of the 2020s are channelling the spirit of the motorway service stations of the 1980s?

I thought the Zoltar machine was a particularly nice touch. Yes, it’s a figment of nostalgic imagination, recreating something we never actually had over here back in the day. But thanks to its appearance in the Tom Hank’s vehicle, Big, it’s something that’s become umbilically linked to that era in our time-addled collective memory. Did I get my fortune told? You bet I did!

My visit to Iceland was brief, and (once again) work-related. But I had some spare time in the evenings. As a city, Reykjavík is growing at a rate of knots – as are most of the towns along the airport corridor. Where once were open meadows and lichen-covered hraun (solidified lava) are now swathes of glass and steel. But that’s not all bad. More and more of the old industrial zones are being swept out to the east, and replaced with rows of swanky new apartment blocks, shops, and eye-popping monuments to statement architecture. One especially stunning example of this phenomenon is Harpa, a space-age concert hall of impeccable design credentials. Going in for a look is like walking onto the set of a sci-fi movie. If you get the chance to visit, you really need to check it out.

Hoi car nerds! Get away from my ride!!!

Then there’s the prospect of seeing the Northern Lights. The aurora borealis is usually a winter thing, most commonly encountered on the cold, clear nights after Christmas. This year, however, they appeared in the middle of September. I almost missed them myself. Had it not been for the bunch of random people standing outside the door of my hotel and looking up at the sky as I was about to go back in, I wouldn’t have known they were out.

Who ya gonna call?

For us video-game enthusiasts, the sight of those shimmering bands of lights in the night sky can be likened to a tech demo on a cosmic CRT. It’s breath-taking in more ways than one (see hear (sic)!). Could we be so bold as to describe them as ‘GOD’S ARCADE MACHINE’ ?!?!?! And if so, is the Almighty playing Raiden 2 ?!?!?!

But what about the kind of arcade games that we mere mortals are permitted to enjoy?

One for the video-game nerds (I mean, ‘enthusiasts’!). If you know, you know. Baldursgata, Rekjavík, Iceland, 2023.

Freddi, Austurstræti 20

The last time I was up this way was in February 2016. One of the distractions I enjoyed back then was a small city-centre joint called Freddi.

From what I understand, Freddi was the name of an Icelandic arcade Mecca back in the 1980s and 90s. At its peak, it is said to have had around 40 cabs! That’s not small. Although the rise of home consoles forced the owners out of business in the mid 90s, the flame was never completely extinguished. Some 20 years later, the concept was revived in the much smaller unit at Ingólfsstræti 2. It was this 2-storey re-incarnation that I stumbled into in 2016.

Inside of Freddi at Ingólfsstræti 2, taken from in front of the desk. Not my photo (c. late 2010s).

Downstairs at Ingólfsstræti were four pins and about twice as many video-games – some (kindof) dedicated, and at least one fitted with a Pandoras-box-type multi-game PCB. In those days, the machines were pay-to-play. There seemed to be quite a good mix of genres for the space, with most of the machines being in reasonably good condition. Barring the expected, and noticeable screen-tearing on the Pandoras-box-powered machine, they were all fully functional too. From memory, I don’t think that more than a couple of them were fitted with LCDs.

Upstairs, was a seating area with some 14″ CRT TVs hooked up to various consoles. You paid to hang out there, but could bring your takeaway in with you if you were that way inclined. The main attraction was an N64. While it certainly seemed to appeal to the regulars, I’m sorry to say that it’s not a system I can get particularly excited about.

Fast-forward to 2023, and that version of Freddi has disappeared. But the business itself has survived like an alien larva, re-seeding itself into a series of new hosts. This thing is resiliant!

First it moved to the converted public ‘convenience’ known as Núllið, ‘The Zero’, at Bankastræti 0. Then, by the time I returned, it had relocated to the back rooms of the rowdy rock-bar at Austurstræti 20. The bar itself is called Lemmy. That’s right – it’s named in homage to the hard-drinking, heavy-smoking, mustachioed frontman of speed-metal (!) pioneers Mötorhead, Mr Ian Fraser Kilmister, otherwise known as ‘Lemmy’ .

As a bar, Lemmy is great. In many ways, it’s like a throwback to student pubs of old. Occupying one of the city centre’s oldest buildings, it offers burgers, hotdogs and strong lagers to a backing track of classic rock music – except in the evenings, when the music is often live. Be warned, however. Later on in the week, the bands tend to be of the growly/shouty-variety favoured by the young people of today. If, like me, you’re more into the kind of anthems you can sing along to when ‘refreshed’ (you know, stuff by Bon Jobby, Guns’n’Roses, or even good old-fashioned 80s pop standards), you’re probably better off at the Old Bookshop bar up on Laugurvegur.

Now that’s a chunky burger, and the stack of waffle fries that came with it was a challenge-and-a-half. But look at that beer. Even Iceland hasn’t escaped the annoyance of ‘shrinkflation’. The locals I spoke to were more than a wee bit irked by this. Apparently, while many pubs have cut their measures from 500 ml to 400 ml, they haven’t changed the price, or the size of the glasses they use!

But what about the promised arcade and toy museum? What about Freddi? When I checked things out on the web, it suggested you payed by the hour to enjoy the games. The reasons for that seem to be a matter of practicality as opposed to the usual economic argument we hear elsewhere. In Iceland, while they do still have banknotes and coins, hardly anyone uses them for anything. Ever. And this isn’t a recent development. When I lived there 20 years ago, most folks paid for their apres pub hotdog with a credit card!

Anyway, back to the present. When I finally made it down to Austurstræti, the toy museum part of Lemmy’s Freddi dimension seemed to be shut. The arcade part of the arrangement, on the other hand, was mostly located in a room off the tented-garden area out the back. Apart from two or three casualties, it was all switched on and operational.

As you can see from the pictures, the selection of games looks pretty similar to those on offer seven-and-a-half years ago. For sure, they look promising enough from a distance. But get a bit closer and you’ll see that the intervening years haven’t been all that kind. The ‘Spacies’ have mostly had their CRTs replaced with LCDs. Realistically, I imagine that getting hold of spare tubes in Iceland is a pain in the pungur (!), so I can see why they’ve done it. The casual, or younger gamer – ie. everyone under 30 – probably wouldn’t notice or care. But when you play arcade games on CRTs at home, it does kind of take the shine off. Also, regardless of what the livery on each cab suggests, they’ve mostly been fitted with fighter games. Once again, I appreciate that’s a relatively minor issue, and that loads of folks out there love their arcade fighters. As a genre, it’s not really one that calls out to me. But that’s obviously a matter of personal taste.

Like an organism expanding out from the point of infection, the machines spill out into the rest of the building, which I think is a nice effect. There’s even an authentic Ms Pac Man cabaret in the bar itself – the shiney lure to guide you onto the hook and reel you in to the arcade proper. Now as you may, or may not know, I’m a big fan of platformers, action games and shmups. I think we can all agree that Rygar, Raiden and Robotron 2084 are three of main contenders for the title of ‘best arcade game ever’. From that perspective, and from what I could see on display, I didn’t feel there was enough there to keep me interested for the evening. So, with a certain amount of melancholy, I finished my burger, and headed over to Harpa. Back in August, I’d enjoyed my games on Timber as part of 10 Pence Arcade’s hi-score challenge. So what better way to end the evening, than listening to a bit of Freddy Choppin’ and his pal, Bobby Shoe, on the old pianoforte.

The verdict?

I enjoyed the ambience in Lemmy itself, and would probably have sunk an hour into a few of the games – most likely the pins – if I’d been in town for longer. I have to say, though, that if you only have limited time available, there are plenty of more attractive ways to spend it. Is that unkind? Perhaps I’m being too hasty here? Maybe I missed some of the machines? Could it be that the cream of the crop was being kept safe in the toy museum? If it hadn’t been for the lure of the concert hall, I’d probably have investigated further…

Have you been to Freddi? Can you add to the picture. If so, please share in the comments below.

Thanks for reading.

Next up – Copenhagen.

Arcade time, sir? Capital idea! Dublin: Token Barcade

I’ve usually got enough going on at home to keep me busy. And that’s just with the family, and household maintenance. If you’ve been following my spam on Twitter recently, you’ll know I’ve spent more of this summer nostrils-deep in gloss paint than I care to admit. But when I get the chance, I do like to go on a bit of an adventure.

Custom-mix Palantir Gloss (R). As you stare into its endless beauty, the whisp of swirling clouds drags your mind into the horrific abyss of its embedded specs of dust.

Belfast: Base Arcade

When opportunity came knocking to fly me over to Belfast in August, I jumped at the chance. I’d been to Norn Irn before, and wiled away the minutes seeking out the dying embers of the arcade scene in Portstewart and Portrush. But this was different. Things are still happening in Belfast.

Soaring into the late-summer sunshine in central Scotland.

The only place in NW Europe more rainy than Scotland, Northern Ireland.

The Irish have always been good at weaving baskets. This one looks like a chair. In olden times, they used the same skills to make boats!

OK, so it was a work thing, but if the stars aligned, I figured I could also squeeze-in a trip to Base Arcade, the new pop-up venue on Donegall Quay. Having followed its inception and early development on the interwebz, I could see it was a place that I really needed to visit.

Base Arcade, Belfast (from their FaceBook page, September 2023)

What I hadn’t realised was that the pop-up dimension to Base Arcade is currently balanced out by an even longer pop-down dimension. Basically, they’re only open to the public on random Saturdays every month or so. And while that would – serendipitously – include the Saturday I was actually going to be in Belfast, my schedule for that day was fully-booked. So, I couldn’t go. Sad times indeed.

Now, obviously, having emotionally invested in the prospect of some arcade action (!), I wasn’t going to give up that easily. With only limited free time on my trip, it meant I’d have to be nimble. After some intensive Googling, and quantum-level logistics, I worked out that I could get down to Dublin and back on the train with change to spare. Not in the cash-money sense, unfortunately. Dublin is notoriously expensive! I’m talking about time, folks, which is – on occasion – even more precious…

Blackpool

Dublin is the Blackpool of Ireland. Not because it builds on the same kind of seaside recreation roots as Blackpool in Lancashire. Not even because it hosts a branch of Andy Palmer’s Arcade Club empire – such as we now find in Bury, Leeds and…. erm, Blackpool. Because it doesn’t! No, my friends. ‘Blackpool’ is what Dublin means in Irish!

This Blackpool is a big, busy and booming city. A city on the rise. As Ireland’s capital, it’s also the custodian of a rich and varied cultural heritage, which includes Viking settlements, epoch-defining authors, and, of course, the delectable self-levelling, boozaholic indulgence that is Guinness. While it’s a deceptively smooth tipple, I find it fills me up in a way that puts a handy brake on the old inlet valve.

While I’ve been to the island of Ireland before, I’d never been to the Republic, never mind Dublin’s fair city. So with the steely determination to eke as much out of my visit as I could, I made sure my day was packed to the gunwales.

On disembarking from the Enterprise, my first stop was the National Museum of Ireland, overflowing as it was with Ireland’s cultural (and actual) treasures – including heaps (I mean carefully curated and contextualised displays) of Bronze Age gold, Iron Age bog bodies, Viking Age tools and weapons, and more besides. It’s free to get in, and the kind of place I could probably spend the whole day – if I hadn’t had other stuff to do.

Staggering out again into the sunlight (by which I mean light drizzle), there was the Georgian architecture, the waterways, the parks, and the statues to enjoy – from Molly Malone, the fictional purveyor of cockles and mussels, to Oscar Wilde.

If you’ve yet to visit yourself, and you do get the chance, I’d recommend the Viking Splash Tour. OK, so it’s a glorified bus tour of the city centre. But you get to ride, over firmament and foam (sortof) in a genuine, second-world-war amphibious transport vehicle. Better still, the driver and tour-guide, Vinnie, was nuts. You could say he was a grade-A craic dealer!

Just around the corner from the bus-stop were the hallowed halls of Trinity College – with their magnificent wood-panelled library, and stunning Book of Kells exhibition, both of which I’ve wanted to see for a quite a while. Entrance to the latter wasn’t cheap, but I’d recommend it. As an aside, if you’re looking for a film to watch which ties in the Book of Kells with medieval Ireland and the Vikings, I’d also recommend Tomm Moore and Nora Twomey’s beautifully-stylised animation, The Secret of Kells. It’s well-worth a watch.

But, you know, as much as I enjoyed all of that, it was probably more than enough cultural tourism for one day! So, to let the experiences settle, I took some time out to enjoy a Guinness or two in Temple Bar, and Fishamble Street.

Then I had to eat. And where better to do that than the Token barcade. In fact, with Token sitting rather conveniently adjacent to the red tram line, a mere 15 minutes’ ride from Connolly Station and my train back north, I was more or less obliged to drop in.

Token Barcade, Smithfield, Dublin 7.

My first impressions were very positive.

The venue was spacious, well laid out, and clean. The staff were friendly and helpful. There’s a well stocked bar, some top end pub-grub, and then – of course – the arcade machines.

Unlike quite a few modern arcades, there’s no fee to get in. But that has its pros and its cons. While I was able to rock on up off the street and sit down to a meal, that was during off-peak hours. By the time I left, the place was absolutely packed. So, if you do plan to go there to eat, you should probably book in advance.

The games themselves are pay-per-play. Not with coins, but tokens. These are sold at the concierge desk by the door, with price-breaks and meal deals available for larger purchases. I only needed a few – partly, because I didn’t have much time, but also because of my ‘mad skillz’. I couldn’t afford to be over-scoring on the spacies and missing my train back. I may only have bought 7 tokens, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that even this paltry bounty came in a fetching commemorative pouch.

And the games?

Ireland played an important part in the history of the Eurpoean arcade scene. Atari’s Tipperary facility was responsible for producing a few of the Golden Age heavy-hitters we enjoyed bitd. Ireland itself was awash with cabinets, not just in the early days, but into the JAMMA period and beyond – as can be seen from the ma-hoo-sive haul of dedicated cabs and Electrocoin Goliath machines in the transmarine ‘Arcade Raid‘ reported by Tony Temple in 2020. Darren Doyle gives us a flavour of the arcade scene in 1980s-Dublin in his epic Coin-Op: The Arcde Guide. In a way that will be familiar to many of us, it seems to have been both alluring and edgy. But as with just about everywhere else, these legendary arcades of yesteryear are now long-gone.

As for Token, well, Token isn’t so much an arcade as a bar-cade. And there’s nothing wrong with that. To temper expectations, though, it’s clear from the average age of the clientelle that the target market isn’t middle-aged ‘video games enthusiasts’.

There were plenty of cabs. And most of them were in very good condition. As we’ve come to expect, however the selection of games was geared towards the casual pub-goer, with the majority being fighters, shooters or drivers – none of which are really my thing. There were a few classics, eg. Space Invaders, Donkey Kong, Pac Man, and Bubble Bobble. But with the usual LCD ‘upgrades’ on most, I wasn’t that tempted to play.

By far the most interesting proposition from my perspective was down in the basement. Not so much in terms of video games, although there were one or two, but if pinball is your bag, man, this place is a goldmine (see what I did there?)!

Look at that lineup! Medieval Madness, The Simpsons: Hit and Run, The Adams Family, the list goes on! Ossum sos, indeed, boss. I didn’t get the chance to play them all, but the ones I did have a go on seemed to be very well maintained. The flippers were tight and responsive. The lights and toys were all present, correct and working. And the atmosphere was appropriate! If I had one minor critique – as an aging Arcadian – I’d suggest that this basement room was possibly just a touch too atmospheric. While it was dim enough to look great, it was also perhaps just a little bit too dim to see the playfields as well as I would have liked. A touch more ambient light, and it would have been near enough perfect.

The Verdict?

If you’re in Dublin, and you like burgers, and/or pinball, you should definitely give Token a whirl. If you’re not so keen on those things, but have certain tastes in antique video games, you might want to drop in for a go on them? Have a look at the photos and see what you think.

And finally…

This post was mostly about Dublin. But I flew back from Belfast International Airport. ‘And why is that in any way interesting’, I hear you ask? Well, because it’s got its own video arcade, that’s why!!! Granted, the machines are all modern, but it would have been a great way to kill the time if your flight was delayed – as many people seemed to be doing. In fact, it was so full of families, I was only able to take the one photo. It seems, moreover to be part of a trend – a topic to which we’ll return in the next post in this series…

Thanks for reading!