Shanghai's elderly seek romance at Ikea lonely hearts club

More than a decade after Ikea tried to kick them out, the raucous Shanghai pensioners' matchmaking group that gathers weekly in the furniture store's cafeteria is still very much alive and kicking.

Every Tuesday, hundreds of elderly lovebirds take over most of the tables in the chain's spacious canteen, shunning the classic Swedish meatballs for their own tea, snacks and even booze brought from home.

Faced with empty nests and changing social structures as China's population ages, they have taken matters into their own hands and turned the store into an unlikely dating site.

"There's nothing embarrassing about saying it. It's not only young people who need love, elderly people also need love," an impeccably made-up retired nursing home director named Qingqing told AFP on a recent winter afternoon.

The atmosphere -- and noise level -- was more like a high school cafeteria than an old people's home.

Glossy fur and leopard print mingled with leather baseball caps and mirrored sunglasses, as some sat around giggling and chatting while others roamed the room flirting.

High-spirited pensioners passed around tangerines, tea and the occasional bottle of cheap alcohol, littering the tables with peels and nutshells.

Among the more than 297 million people aged 60 or more in China, a quarter are single, according to official data.

While multigenerational households were the norm in the past, many elderly people now live on their own.

In a 2016 survey by Beijing's Renmin University, a quarter of over-60s said they experienced loneliness.

"I'm lonely all the time. I feel that life is very boring at my age... I always wanted to have a partner," said Gu Yijun, a lively retired coach driver.

The 73-year-old regularly travels an hour and a half by public transport to come to the meet-ups, but he was sanguine about his chances of success.

"It's also a way to relax and have fun," he told AFP.

"It's much better than facing the mirror alone at home, seeing only myself reflected back."

The group has met at Ikea for more than 10 years, although no one seems quite sure how it all started.

There appears to be no clear organiser, with most saying they had heard about the gathering from friends.

"There are some practical difficulties for us to go to more elegant places," said Qingqing's friend Xu Yizhen, adding Ikea's affordability "suits us better".

Initially, the multinational company was less than delighted by its ageing lonely hearts club.

The store's many attempts to get rid of them have been widely reported in Chinese and foreign media since 2011.

Ikea assigned extra security, roped off the seating areas and put up a sign urging the group to disband, reports said.

One guard recounted an altercation with an old man who threw hot coffee at him when asked to be quiet.

Tensions appear to have cooled off considerably since then.

At a recent meeting, staff did not raise an eyebrow when a man dressed in a teddy-bear-patterned suit wandered around smoking and trying to make people do shots of whisky.