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The Schlagerkaos must go on (after a long busybusybusy delay!), so back to Stockholm!
Picture the scene, Saturday midday waking up in luxurious surroundings I haven't paid a penny for, in a room strewn with bodies from various areas of Europe in various states of undress. Now stop picturing it, it's probably for the best.
Still very drunk from the previous night, we all lay still and watch some weird kind of walking/skiing combo sport on TV. Eventually we crawl out of bed and back to our various actual accommodations, walking through the lovely sunshine of Stockholm in order to do so. Luckily we know the way to and from the Sheraton like the back of our hands already! Geert and I return to the hostel to find Costas there, having just got in himself. The other three sleeping beauties - Anthi, Sild and Yami - are still out for the count. We make the first important step of updating each other on all the various gossip from the night before, as people gradually rejoin the land of the living.
Costas also told me some exciting news - the night before in Paradise, he had met a Eurovision fan who lived in Berlin, who was "my type" apparently. I instructed him that if he saw him again he had to introduce me!
As it is Saturday, the Very Important Task of purchasing enough alcohol for the next 2 nights must be carried out. It is very hard to estimate how much alcohol you are going to need for 30 or so Eurovision fans to be sufficiently drunk on 2 nights of MF weekend. Amazingly, we actually overestimated! But we were joined by half of Stockholm in Systembolaget stocking up for the weekend. This is the only reason I could never live in Sweden - the shock of going from Berlin, where you can buy alcohol at 4am on a Monday morning from virtually any open place (takeaway, train station…), to Stockholm, where alcohol isn't sold all weekend after 3pm on Saturday is a big one!
Anyway, now we had purchased plenty more alcohol, it was time to start drinking it again. Sam and Martin arrived and the wine began to flow again. I also had to access the internet to upload some stuff for my new job (more about that in a later blog), and it was surreal sitting in Stockholm with a glass of Rose wine in my hand, in a hostel full of drunken friends, and getting paid(!) for the privilege!
Our musical and visual accompaniment on this afternoon/evening was National Final Disasters, and we worked our way through a great many treats! Highlights included "I Wanna To Fly", from Croatia 2000, Margerita Arta from Lithuania, many others that alcohol, or self-preservation has led me to forget, and the more recent offerings from Karen Pavlsdottir and Mariaana Seppern from this year. Sam and I made the executive decision that we would meet at 6pm for Mongolian Barbecue.
The food was delish, and probably the only time I ate anything proper and satisfying the whole trip. We bumped into Roger, Alexander, Jacob, and possibly others (blame the alcohol for my poor memory!), and met Elin's lovely boyfriend for the first time. So much for him being imaginary!
After the food we returned to the hostel, and recommenced the drinking and national final viewing, as we got ready for the Big Night one by one.
Melodifestivalen, the show which apparently some people had come to Stockholm especially to see, and was allegedly the point of the whole weekend, was watched in - you guessed it - The Sheraton!
That poor hotel room played guest to almost 30 (I would guesstimate) crazy Eurovision fans, and their bountiful alcohol supplies. With the guests divided between the two beds, and Noel on his armchair in the middle, providing a running commentary about his lesbian mother and other stories, in true Melodi Nummer Terry Wogan style, we watched the show. Which passed largely without incident, apart from the odd flying Bilar, a rousing reception for Pernilla, a disappearing guitar, lots of alcohol consumption and everyone forgetting to stop talking to watch Andreas Johnson.At some point it was all over, and the chick with the disappearing guitar had won, apparently. So we set off on the expedition across Stockholm to "Zipper".
I was led by Sam, Sild and Martin (we abandoned everyone else rudely!) and they found our way very efficiently! On the way we stumbled across a poor person (they get everywhere!) singing on the street for money. So I set up a rival Schlager(ain)Busk, with Jag vill om du vagar and Min Kärlek being my songs of choice. I didn't make a single Krona! :(
Zipper is a gigantic drunken schlagery blur, with few memories remaining. I remember going to the bar and asking for "En beer please", then asking the barman to teach me what beer was. He reminded me, and so next time I went to the bar, at two minutes to 11pm (when drink prices would go up!) I asked for "tva Öl please", then asked him what please was. I think I enjoyed my Swedish lessons more than him though. Luckily 3 beers was more than enough for the night after all I had consumed during the hostel pre-party and MF show!
The other memory is of Sam telling me off. And it was thoroughly deserved. I committed the cardinal sin of leaving the dancefloor during a Linda Bengtzing song ("Jag ljuger så bra" no less!). Though in fairness it was to read a text Costas had received. Nothing saucy, but instead a text from the manager of the club we'd been in the previous night. They had found my phone and Icould pick it up that night.
As fab as that news was (I was really sad about losing the text message that confirmed my vote in the Macedonian National Final!), I wasn't gonna let it get in the way of my night. So I returned to the dancefloor and danced the night away in amongst all the pretty men of Zipper.
Then about 1am, I decided I should go and collect my phone, while I could still (barely) stand up. At first I tried to use the clever trick of "heading towards water", which sadly works better in Liverpool than it does in Stockholm, built, as it is, on multiple islands. After ending up in McDonalds with a stolen map and a cheeseburger, and still being unable to find my way, I jumped in a taxi, and told the driver to "take me to Paradise, Mr Taxi Man!"
He didn't really understand so I had to clarify with "that gay club near Slussen". He then proceeded to attempt to take me to Patricia, so I very patiently explained that was the Sunday night gay club, not the Friday night one where I had lost my phone. Even though it was very rude of him not to know the MF weekend gay bar schedule as well as me, I forgave him when he finally brought me to the correct place.
As I completely forgot the instructions of how to get my phone back in my cross-Stockholm wandering adventures, I had a nice chat with the bouncer while the other one went to retrieve my phone. I don't remember much of it though (recurring theme!).
Now I had my phone back, I set off on my way home. I couldn't get a second taxi in Stockholm, I'd rather have spent my remaining money on alcohol, so again I did the old "wandering about" method. Except this time I had a secret weapon. Not a map, and my phone doesn't have one of them groovy Sat Nav things; but it does have a music player. And so to keep myself entertained as I wandered through Gamla Stan and many other random parts of Stockholm (again!), I played that night's MF winner to myself on repeat. While resisting the urge (mostly) to fling my arms out to the side in true Anna Bergendahl style.
This proved to be a stroke of genius, when I heard a voice from behind me ask "Anna Bergendahl??". As good as my singing and arm movements are; I don't think the voice in question had confused me with the blonde celebrity. She had, however, recognised the song. I took the opportunity to strike up conversation with the two girls behind me. We discussed Anna, Melodifestivalen, Pernilla Wahlgren, Linda Bengtzing and, best of all, the way home. They parted company soon after to go to their own places, and I resumed the music. I then encountered 3 more girls who recognised the song, and they managed to guide me the rest of the way back to the hostel. Me and Anna were very grateful!
And so, reunited with my phone, I passed out at the end of another long, fun day in Sweden!
Sunday began early, as I woke up at 9:30 am! Determined to do something more constructive with my day than watching Macedonia 2010 again, I sent a text to Caron. After a quick shower, I went to meet her, and we went for a wander and a shop in Stockholm. We managed to have some food, read Aftonbladet, enjoy the sunshine and buy Caron a great purple top, and an Elin Lanto CD. Success! Though we ended up back in her room, listening to Macedonia 2010 ;) It was a lovely relaxing start to the day, but eventually it was time to return to the hostel to begin the preparations for the final big night out!
After meeting Costas, I remembered how he had told me about the Berlin-based Eurovision fan, and so disappointedly I asked him "so you didn't see him last night?". To which Costas exclaimed "I did, and introduced you. You were talking to him for five minutes!" Apparently, I quite liked him. But I still don't remember him at all, and haven't tracked him down yet in Berlin, sadly!
We commenced the drinking in the hostel and got ready one by one, as usual, and then headed out for some (Asian obvi) food! Martin and Sam had the right (rude?) idea of grabbing some hamburgers instead. Successfully filled up, we went back to the hostel to resume the drinking, until we were appropriately wasted. I also must note that I wore my I <3 NL socks for the night, it would be rude not to!
Upon arriving at Patricia, the big gay schlager boat, we discovered that rudely, and like in 2008, they were only playing ESC music on the top (tiny) dancefloor. Some (mentioning no names) were leaving in disgust at this, as we arrived. But if I can dance to schlager alone in my room, I can dance to it in the engine room of a boat!
Again, the night all blurs into one fuzzy memory… though there were some memorable highlights. Erik Hassle was played, and among a boatful of confused Eurovision fans, there was just me and Caron screaming and fighting our way towards each other. Again there was playing of multiple non-ESC/Melodifestivalen songs, which again was very rude. I stormed off to find the DJ and make my opinion clear when Jonas told me that the DJ was the barmaid, and she had to do both jobs at the same time. So I decided just to ask her if she could play Linda Bengtzing. And when she answered "certainly" with that special Linda look in her eyes, all was instantly forgiven. I also made a tit out of myself in front of a Swiss man. I also swore again at the guy who had compared me to Kevin Borg, and he issued a truly heartfelt apology and we agreed to put the matter behind us.
And when we got home, at silly o'clock in the Swedish morning, we made a wonderful discovery… the baker had been and left two crates of bread loaves in the night entranceway to the hostel. So obviously a little peckish, we helped ourselves to multiple loaves of bread, which we wolfed down in combination with a tube of mayonnaise. It tasted very good, though I'm amazed we got away with it! We also waved Anthi off sadly, and I serenaded her with a personalised version of Ukraine 2003 ("Hasta la vista, Anthi, Anthi goodbye!"). We also lost a Yami and a Sild during the early hours.
The next morning, we had to be out of the hostel by 10:00 am. Which was agony. We "cleaned" as best as we could, and gathered up all the leftover alcohol. Two full bottles of vodka, 1 ½ bottles of gin, one full bottle of wine, and three cans of beer suggested perhaps we were a little too ambitious at Systembolaget. We brought the 3 full bottles of spirits back to Berlin (and only the gin remains!).
We met the Sheraton crew at the hotel, waiting longest for Alexander, then wandered down to MaxBurger (they give free coffee!!!) and sat in our various hungover states for a while. We managed to crawl to a Wayne's Coffee shop just a few doors down eventually, and from there we departed to our respective airports and flights.
SamB and Martin saw out the winning MF reprise on the TV screens at Skavsta with us, and then departed for London. The rest of the wait was largely unremarkable, though the airport was playing the MF CD, and for a second I thought a black man was Getty Domein.
All in all, it was an absolutely terrific time - it gets better each year, and I cannot wait for MF 2011! With hopefully the return of Linda Bengtzing and/or Danny Saucedo. Ooh how fabulous would a duet between those two be?! Make it happen Christer, tack så mycket!
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