Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
The old saying may be at its most poignant when it comes to procuring intoxicants. And for the ancient human tradition of drinking alcohol, that will and way have joined forces to provide an iconic vignette of subversive subculture: the cross-border booze run.
Whether facing high taxes, overly aggressive regulation, or outright prohibition, folks within close proximity of certain borders can buy their beverages of choice at discount pricing on the other side of the fence. These gray and black markets fuel an economy unto itself, with businesses and customary practices unique to each environment.
And for some locales, the booze run has become a local institution.
Long gone is the era of besuited gangsters, Tommy guns, and the glory days of moonshiners, but the American bootlegging tradition lives on in the guise of state-line runs for personal consumption. Residents in several states like Utah — notorious for its archaic liquor laws — have runs to border booze outlet havens such as West Wendover, Nev.
But in the aggressively irreverent city of Philadelphia, it’s become a way of life.
The state’s Liquor Control Board, along with its “State Stores” monopoly system for spirits (now rebranded as “Fine Wine & Good Spirits” stores) has been a point of contention in Pennsylvania since the agency’s inception at the end of Prohibition. And when the Keystone State completely shuttered its stores during Covid lockdowns, Pennsylvanians — especially those close to borders like Philly — naturally decided that the venerable and illegal booze run over state lines was the obvious solution.
“Some of my partners and I were avoiding indoor shopping as best as possible for various pandemic-associated reasons,” says Edward Avery-Natale, Philadelphia resident and professor of sociology specializing in subculture and anarchism at Mercer County Community College. “However, we knew people who were doing monthly runs to other states, Delaware especially, for alcohol. We would provide them with money, and they would drop alcohol off at our doorsteps,” he says.
“There’s a general sense, especially with alcohol, that because Pennsylvania liquor stores are state-owned, they already get our taxes. Why should we get them more if we can avoid it?”
Delaware, with its lack of sales tax, offers a perfect accomplice. The Wilmington metro area lies just 30 minutes from Philadelphia and offers a bounty of booze retailers, including a warehouse-proportioned Total Wine & More right off I-95 just a couple hundred yards across the state line. How convenient. “Before holidays or large parties, it’s especially common to head to another state to get alcohol for the events,” Avery-Natale says. “Heading to Delaware before New Year’s parties is an annual tradition.”
“There’s a general sense, especially with alcohol, that because Pennsylvania liquor stores are state-owned, they already get our taxes,” he adds. “Why should we get them more if we can avoid it?” Sticking it to the man is a sort of badge of honor among Philadelphia residents, he explains, so it stands to reason that doing so while scoring cheaper alcohol serves up a double shot of Philly pride for its denizens.
And it’s not just booze that Pennsylvanians bootleg. They’ll also hit the road to procure weed. “Recreational marijuana is legal in New Jersey, but in Pennsylvania only medicinal,” Avery-Natale says. “[But] there are billboards all over our highways advertising New Jersey dispensaries to Pennsylvania residents.”
With just over an hour of driving, you can make a tri-state run to stock up on both — all while saving a bundle and browsing a far better selection. So, with personal bootlegging law enforcement fairly lax these days, why not?
Not to be outdone, the U.K. upholds the tradition with predictable panache. An alcohol regulatory price hike has sent Scots scrambling across the border to northern English booze havens like Carlisle and Newcastle. “When my brother — who works for one of the major grocery store chains and lives on the Scottish side of the border — gets his employee discount, he always drives to stores on the English side when buying alcohol,” says Andrew (who didn’t want to disclose his last name) from Northumberland, England, along the Scottish border. “The Scottish stores are not allowed to extend the 20 percent employee discount on alcohol.”
Yet a far grander and deeply revered excursion lies in the southern extremes: the Calais booze cruise.
“Without fail the coach drivers would always drive us to a wine and beer warehouse in Calais on the way home, where every self-respecting student would instantly load up with case upon case of cheap French lager and vats of wine.”
“Booze cruise” is a loosely used term nowadays, as the Channel Tunnel displaced some of the ferry traffic since its opening in 1994. Regardless of how one goes about it, the celebrated route across the English Channel to Calais, France, is a beloved institution.
But as it’s done to many aspects of British booze buying, Brexit has made its unpleasant imposition here as well. Now left in the cold outside the free-flowing borders of the European Union, personal import limits have cut into the economic advantage achieved by loading up a van-full of cases from the cheap and bountiful warehouse wonderland situated on the French seaside.
It’s still worth the trip to a degree, but the good old days of a cross-Channel run were unquestionably pre-Brexit. “When I was a student we used to go skiing in the French Alps each year,” Andrew says. The trek involved a long journey by coach bus. “[It] included the ferry crossing … [and] without fail the coach drivers would always drive us to a wine and beer warehouse in Calais on the way home, where every self-respecting student would instantly load up with case upon case of cheap French lager and vats of wine. Happy days!”
Possibly no other place on Earth has a booze-run tradition quite as over the top as the Nordic countries.
Many years ago, I had my first run-in with Nordic booze bureaucracy while wasting away during a long layover in Oslo Airport. My travel buddy and I had grabbed a couple beers at a bar without thinking. But when the bill came, I damn near choked on the suds. “Did we really just shell out the equivalent of $32 for two measly lagers?!” I thought.
Yep, 32 bucks for a couple basic beers was the damage. Welcome to Norway.
“It’s quite funny in the Nordics. The Norwegians travel to Sweden to shop, the Swedes to Denmark, and the Danes to Germany.”
It turns out, unlike the more moderate wine-centric alcohol cultures of the Mediterranean basin or Europe’s central beer belt, the countries that make up the continent’s northern extremes have a more complex — and historically problematic — relationship with booze.
Whether it’s the vehicle of distilled drinks and shot glasses, the oppressively dark winters, or otherwise, these countries have struggled with the negative impact of heavy alcohol consumption in the past. One simplistic intervention for the issue? Tax it to death.
For those in Sweden, with its obsessively strict Systembolaget alcohol monopoly, the way around the red tape lies to the south. Just across the thin Øresund Strait sits that most freewheeling and alcohol-friendly of Nordic countries (relatively speaking), Denmark. And farther on down for those on a hellbent mission? The dime-store-cheap alcohol prices of Germany.
“It’s quite funny in the Nordics,” says Danish automotive sales executive Simon Lindegaard. “The Norwegians travel to Sweden to shop, the Swedes to Denmark, and the Danes to Germany.”
“Many drivers don’t realize that overloading their cars can result in hefty penalties, as it poses a risk to road safety.”
“I used to live in Stockholm, about 650 kilometers from Copenhagen and 800 from Germany, including two ferry crossings,” he says. “In the early 2000s I worked at a petrol station that also rented out vans, and we had quite the interesting clientele. Every so often, a customer would rent a van for 24 hours, embark on the ambitious 1,600-kilometer round trip to Puttgarden in Germany, and return with the van loaded up to the brim with beer and booze.”
There were sometimes fines involved, but not for the booze itself. Within the E.U., over-the-border alcohol runs for personal use are perfectly legal. But stock up that car or van to the gills, and you might be asking for trouble. “What often triggers fines is not the quantity of alcohol being transported, but rather vehicles exceeding their payload limits,” Lindegaard explains. “Many drivers don’t realize that overloading their cars can result in hefty penalties, as it poses a risk to road safety.”
The most charming aspect of the Nordic alcohol-run tradition without question, though, is their own festive rendition of the booze cruise. Of course, driving the modern bridge over the Øresund Strait is far more efficient, but why not make a social event of it?
“People hop on the ferry, enjoy classic Danish dishes like smørrebrød, wash it down with Danish beers, and maybe even indulge in a shot of snaps,” Lindegaard says. “The atmosphere is lively, with the ferry offering a cozy, informal setting for friends to eat, drink, and unwind. After a few hours on the ferry, passengers wander off briefly in Helsingør, often with small carts in tow, to stock up on cheap beer or alcohol.” Far from a utilitarian, American-style interstate run, it offers a more civilized way to finesse some real pleasure out of a cross-border bootleg. “This blend of Danish hospitality and Swedish practicality has turned these ferry trips into a beloved tradition — a floating bar on the water where you can eat, drink, and shop, all while enjoying the scenic views of the Øresund Strait,” he says.
Even without the cellar-restocking element, it’s a custom to admire. The next time I’m in the neighborhood, you’ll find me on the ferry — sipping aquavit, savoring smørrebrød, and just enjoying the ride with a few new Nordic friends.
The article Long Live the Cross-Border Booze Run appeared first on VinePair.