So congratulations, we have arrived!

Good morning reader. Congratulations, we have arrived! Rosé and I hit Copenhagen with style last night. Thankfully British Airways continued to know who we are and our seat dilemma was sorted by moving us to our rightful places ahead of the curtains. A champagne journey primed us for our entry to the city.

We’re staying in a lovely apartment just over the bridge from the city centre. It’s charming inside, which is fortunate because it’s three floors up with no lift and has a very interesting shower system. The tiny bathroom-cum-toilet is, we are told, typically Danish. The apartment dates from the days the Danes were scruffy little buggers and had no inside facilities, so it’s been adapted to include a hand-held shower that runs from under a teeny-tiny wash basin. Or should that be a wash Basim? Did you see what I did there? Scrub-bi-do-bi-da…. It’s more like having a stand up wash whilst hovering over the toilet bowl. Undignified, but affordable. At least you can scoosh the water right into the crevices, which might be handy should we find that hotbed of sodomy that was sadly lacking last night.

Our first parties included both the Fan Cafe and the EuroClub saying hello to Hersi Bar from Albania, tinkering with Tinkara Kovač’s flute, snapping ourselves with Aram 78rpm and being serenaded by drag queens, Paula Selling, Portuguese Suzy, Swiss Sabalter, and someone a bit out of tune singing Eurovision covers in Afrikaans and losing her audience by her first chorus. I’m sure that seemed like a good addition to the line up at the time. I also bizarrely found myself mic-ed up for a Danish documentary with Keith Mills. It was something to do with the economy, a subject if you know Keith & I you will know we are unlikely to agree on. I had an unfortunate incident when I had to finally go to the loo and forgot I had the mic on, so I do hope the whole of Denmark isn’t subject to the sounds of my lavatorial processes. I know I did a really loud fart. Oops.

So we’re off to the Press Centre. Well to be honest we’re already here though I wrote this at home. Charming it would seem, in the description of our abode of residence, also means has no wifi in Danish. We are reliant on the facilities, which whilst adjacent to the venue do require a magical mystery tour and a three mile diversion to get into. Ready for a day of action. And some Eurovision tunes too.

Monty x