love it,” she says, beaming with pride at a
car that formerly transported dead bodies
to funerals. Stefan, she explains, bought
the 1968 Plymouth Satellite 10 years ago
to celebrate the birth of their daughter.
Since then he has lovingly added a purple
roof and matching curtains to compliment
the black exterior. Peering through the
windscreen I can see on the dashboard
what looks like a blood-filled syringe.
“Don’t worry!” chuckles Stefan. “It’s just a
ball-point pen that looks like a syringe.”
At Falköping I learn of a place called
Nostalgeek in Lidköping, 50km away, that
has a retro American milkshake bar and is
a popular hang-out for raggars. Forty-five
minutes later, I’m walking into the store
and stepping six decades back in time. It’s a
pastel-hued fantasy with a black-and-white
Clcokwise from
top
⁄
Wandering through
Falköping; Nasco Yankee
Klas Hermansson, 28,
and son Erik, 4: “Erik
loves the scene – he’s
really into the cars.
He’ll be a raggar of the
future”; Nostalgeek
milkshake bar; mind the
car ornaments
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