With regular nights organised across the north of England, we went along with some Bingo-veterans to try out the now infamous extravaganza.
What followed was one of the strangest yet most enjoyable evenings we have had in a long time. Starting ludicrously early, we got to Canal Mills at 6.30pm to make sure we got a seat. By 7pm I was glad that I was with folk who knew what they were doing, because the place was bouncing - literally. Far from the intense and silent bingo your Gran plays, Bongo's is basically a rave on benches, with two fluorescent transvestites reading the numbers.