So that’s our first night of partying done, and whilst we did manage to get to the Montenegrin, Sammarinese, and the tail end of the Nordic party it felt like we’d missed something. The Nordic party was billed as invite only until 11, but it seems many people had been able to gain access with or without accreditation much earlier and enjoy the shows. And whilst we were having some late night al-fresco fine dining (a bag of chips on the street) we learned that there had also been a Serbian party on, where we’d missed Bojana! Still, we did enjoy ourselves.
That tantalisingly intriguing ‘flying fingerfood’ turned out just to be canapes, nice as they were, but they came with free sekt and red wine. After Knez gave us his Adio, we gave him ours and hot-taxied it to the Sammarinese party, our first in the venue that will be the EuroClub, the Ottakringer Brauerei. Yes, literally a piss-up in a brewery. I know my way round a German brewery: in 1992 I wrote my dissertation on the Reinheitsgebot, the purity law for German beer. I carried out much research in the field, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate. We had some very welcome free pizza although the drinks were pay as you go. And we went some.
Both the young Sammarinese singers played, well, let’s call them ‘extended’ sets of popular classics with the kids today, meaning I knew about 1 in 3 of them. I find this an increasing problem as I age. Where once I would be sat with the cassette player whist the Hit-parade counted down on the wireless, nowadays I’m more likely to have to use Shazam to ascertain what’s being pumped through the speakers of a whoopsie bar as I grumble about not being able to find a seat. Youth, eh? Enjoy it whilst it lasts. Then be like us and try to squeeze a bit more out of it.
After what seemed like forever but was still shorter than a Valentina Monetta freestyle scat we left and headed to the Nordic party. We should have know that we were too late as Måns was on his way out as we went in, and as we did we were hit by the heat. I know those Nordics like a sauna but there was no need to go to all the trouble of recreating one for us. Phew! We struggled to the bar – with just enough time to say hello and complain about the heat to Deborah Scarlett whose red hair looked sun-burnt in all that warmth, and caught the end of Estonia’s set. Then the house band struck up a slowed down ‘male-voiced’ version of Rise Like A Phoenix and we felt it might be time for an early night. Bag of chips, leer at the chip-seller, leer at the chip-seller’s mate, and we were in a taxi home. Lovely night, but we’ve got a hot date for a kiss with Vaidas from Lithuania in just over an hour.
Oh, and did I mention the Ambassador requests the pleasure of our company on Monday? Get us! I hope there’ll be Fererro Rocher. I’d better start practising that name now…