The Swish Struggle and Melodifestivalen Magic

I arrived in Sundsvall for Melodifestivalen and immediately hit a snag that defines the modern Swedish experience: the “Swish” struggle. In Sweden, “digital only” has moved beyond credit cards; many local transactions now rely entirely on Swish, a mobile payment system tied directly to a Swedish bank account and a personal identity number. Without those local credentials, you are effectively locked out of a primary way people pay for everything from bus fares to a bottle of water.

When I tried to board the bus to the arena, it was explained to me that the system was Swish-only. Once I clarified that I’m Australian, they were incredibly understanding of my dilemma and were very helpful.

That kindness followed me all the way to the venue, where I queued for a significant amount of time just to get some water to get me through. When I finally reached the front, I discovered that even the bar was Swish-only, with no option for a standard card payment.

I must have had a look of utter defeat or confusion on my face as I turned to walk away, wondering how I’d survive without even a bottle of water. However, the people working there were once again incredibly helpful and recognised the situation immediately.

The journey north from Stockholm had been a four-hour train ride through a truly stunning, shifting landscape. The sky stayed a piercing blue for most of the trip, reflecting off a scenery that varied considerably as we moved north.

The views shifted from frozen lakes to paddocks where the snow was no longer hanging on the trees but still clinging to the ground. It was a really beautiful trip, which I enjoyed very much.

I’d met someone years ago in a Stockholm bar—an immigrant living in Sundsvall—who mentioned many people moved there for work. I can see why; it is clearly an industrial hub, defined by smokestacks and heavy industry.

The city sits on water that was, for the most part, frozen over.

Even though I’ve been to Melodifestivalen a couple of times previously, I was really excited to go again while I was in Sweden this time.

My obsession with the contest peaked around 2010–2013. During that period, I genuinely thought the quality of the songs and the “wacky” risks they took were actually better than the Eurovision final itself.

In more recent years, I feel it has become a little more predictable and a little more boring. You can usually set your watch by the line-up: there is always the classic “Schlager Diva” and the young artists designed to appeal to the tweens.

Despite that, I really wanted to come to this heat. The final in Stockholm is next weekend, and while I could have extended my trip, I thought it would be more fun to go to a community-based celebration like this one.

The audience was filled with families and a lot of kids. I noticed a mother and daughter sitting right in front of me; the child, maybe six or seven, was dressed up in a hat and the full kit, but the mum seemed to be enjoying the show even more.

It felt like a generational tradition; the parents grew up with this, they still love it, and they want their kids to learn to love it too. As for the songs tonight, there wasn’t much in this final heat that truly grabbed me, to be honest.

Sanna Nielsen, a total pro and former Eurovision representative, returned with Waste Your Love. It was a classic disco-schlager track, reminiscent of Loreen’s Euphoria, and she sailed straight through to the final.

There was also an American artist with a Swedish songwriting team whose song was pure 1990s Britney Spears. She kept referring to it as “K-Pop” and spoke only in English, though she made sure to tell everyone how much she loves Sweden.

Personally, I thought the most interesting part was seeing what was going on behind the scenes. I had a seat right at the front near the stage, but it actually backed onto where all the performers were.

While I didn’t see a lot of the actual show—and one performance used a set where you couldn’t see anything at all—I did get to see the performers come off stage, which was a really nice thing to experience.

My favourite moments were the nods to the past. Seeing Caroline af Ugglas perform Snälla Snälla for the Hall of Fame was wonderful—it still has that raw, soulful grit that stands out in a sea of pop glitter.

Sarah Dawn Finer also performed, and having seen her in a live concert years ago in Sweden, it was lovely to see her again. I also have a lot of time for Robin Bengtsson, whose song got through to the final next weekend.

I remember his Eurovision entry I Can’t Go On—the one where he had to change the lyric from “fucking beautiful” to “freaking beautiful” for the international broadcast. It was cool to see him again and watch him do interviews for Swedish radio and TV afterwards.

All in all, it was a really lovely experience, even if the songs were a bit average. Seeing the inner workings of the show and receiving so much support from the people there made it feel special.

In my younger days, I would have looked for a venue to go out for a drink afterwards, and I did check a few months ago if there were any in the area. But in the end, the bus dropped me 150 metres from my hotel.

I just came back to the hotel and hopped into bed, content to solve the world’s problems from under the covers. It was a lovely experience coming to Sundsvall for this.

Tomorrow, I’m heading back to Stockholm Airport, for a flight back to Bangkok.