April 29 is the International Dance Day. At Momondo we totally support a day dedicated to dancing and we've decided to celebrate the day too. Therefore we’ve asked our city bloggers to come up with their favourite spots to go and dance or watch others do it. So put on your boogie shoes and let our bloggers guide you through the best dance spots in cities across the world.

Let's dance #5: Stockholm

The minute my boyfriend Jan orders a vodka Red Bull, you know it’s going to be a long night.

So there we were—me, Jan, and our friends Bert and Frasse—having just finished dining, knowing all too well what lay ahead. We were at Torget (by far the most reliable gay watering hole in Stockholm) and on a Sunday night, it was positively hoppin’. We had seen posters up advertising a party at Collage, but we had been to that club a couple weeks earlier for a special party in honor of Grace Jones. You know how it is living the glamorous life: been there, done that…

No, tonight we had our sights set on something much less swanky and cool. We were jonesin’ for some crazy dancing. So, like many of our Torget cohorts, we headed for the boat.

Now, let me explain that in Stockholm there are quite a few boats of renown, the Vasa and ThaiBoat among them. But if you say you’re going to dance on 'the boat', everyone knows you’re talking about Patricia.

Permanently moored at Slussen, this ship regularly attracts attention from tourists with its bizarre decor—each weekend’s party has a different theme, from bubble parties and 'Glitter and Glamour' to 'Christmas in July' (which sounds a lot better in Swedish: Jul i Juli). It’s not the most coordinated decorative program in the world, so expect to see mannequins of pirates climbing the rigging next to a giant blow-up snowman. Fridays and Saturdays belong to the straights, but the camp factor really explodes for the Sunday gay crowd. On the particular Sunday in question, the staff members were all decked out like Easter witches, which—despite its local charm—isn’t the sexiest of get-ups.

Photo: Roadkills Collective

No matter, we were there to dance. Oh, and dance we did. There are three different dance floors located throughout the boat, and on certain weekends you can catch live performances of various Swedish schlager stars.

— What do you mean, you don’t know what schlager is?! Well, you’re clearly not one of the hordes of gay Brits that descend on Stockholm every spring for the final week of Melodifestivalen, Sweden’s all-important contest to choose its Eurovision contestant. Those wretched excuses for pop songs performed at the Eurovision contest? That’s schlager.

Photo: Nico.se

Of course, the beauty of schlager lies in its complete lack of dignity, which also happens to be the number one requisite for great club dancing. (That, and a mind-blowing amount of vodka and Red Bull.) So we embraced the night, and let our bodies loose to the predictable downbeat rhythms, the power-ballad vocals, and the stilted, illogical lyrics. It’s like some sort of purification ritual—I can’t explain its appeal in rational terms.

Nevertheless, there were definitely times when the schlager was too much to bear, so we took breaks at the other dance floors playing more traditional club fare, or on the top of the ship, where the open-air bar has a fabulous view of Skeppsbron, Skeppsholmen, and Strömmen (that is, if you manage to see out of the cloud of cigarette smoke engulfing you).

“We’ve got to go dancing more often,” we slurred at each other

Photo: Oskarlin

I mean, it’s not like there isn’t anywhere to go. Recently, in the gay world, the clubbing landscape has undergone some tectonic shifts with the closing of Lino (king of Saturday nights) and the opening of Libra, Xplore, and Paradise. But for clubbers of any sexual orientation, Debaser has the latest and coolest performers and djs, and there are always occasional parties like 'Slick' at Södra Teatern or events organized by the promoters at Monday Bar. And beyond the usual prepster-dominated clubs in and around Stureplan, Kungsgatan’s clubs reliably attract rowdy weekend revelers. (But as a friend put it to me, they're very svennigt, which seems to be Stockholm’s equivalent of Manhattan’s scorned 'bridge and tunnel crowd'.)

So we really have no excuse for limiting our dancing to the occasional blow-out weekend. Jan and I only left when Patricia’s lights started flashing around 5 o’ clock. Outside, the harsh dawn light greeted us, and it was clear that Monday was going to consist primarily of bad television and greasy McDonald’s fare.

Which, every once in a while, is totally worth it.

Go further:

Let's dance #1: Moving and shaking with Cairo's own
Let's dance #2: Swinging New York: Fancy a shag?
Let's dance #3: Dancing down the Spree
Let's dance #4: So you think you can dance(hall)
Let's dance #6: London's retro dance explosion