The idea of Eurovision as a two-week marathon, as opposed to a one-night live extravaganza, can be a difficult concept to explain to fans who don’t routinely drain their bank accounts and annual holiday entitlement to gain the full experience on the ground.
After sustaining a spectacularly ill-timed broken shoulder (a drunken stumble walking home from a hen party, oh the uniquely British shame!) the week before I was due to fly, doctor’s orders has forced me to arrive late to the party for the first time since 2013.
John Lucas sporting an ill-timed broken shoulder.
But what am I really missing by skipping the first week in Kyiv? A few rehearsals, a few parties? I’ll add a link at the end of the article with details on where to address your sympathy cards.
Truth be told, missing the first stage run-throughs isn’t the end of the world. I’m quite enjoying seeing more fully formed versions of the performances, without the to-be-expected early jitters clouding my perception of some entries. It’s easy to get burned out by hearing the same 43 songs on a constant loop for an entire fortnight, and arriving late is helping things to feel fresher.
The only striking difference between a one week Eurovision experience and doing the full two weeks is a social one. Anyone who’s attended a contest in any kind of formal capacity will be familiar with the tight-knit community of fans and journalists who populate the Press Centre and the Euroclub during the first week. It’s a time for greeting familiar faces, catching up on gossip and easing into the natural rhythms of the city where we’ll be spending the next fortnight.
By contrast, jumping straight in a mere three days before the first semi final means the car is already on the road and approaching top speed. Everything’s a little busier – the press centre is already filling up with national media and full delegations, and Euroclub will soon transform from casual drinks at the bar to a hardened scrum of uninhibited clubbers.
I’ll be taking things slowly on the clubbing front – in my current condition an overly animated shoulder roll to ‘Spirit of the Night’ could leave me with reduced mobility for years. Attending Eurovision with a fairly significant injury is adding another layer of complications to the experience. The airport-style security scanners at the entrance to the press centre are time consuming to get through at the best of times, so I’d like to take the opportunity to apologise publicly to anyone who ends up stuck behind me as I grimly attempt to take my belt on and off while still retaining a modicum of my increasingly fragile dignity.
Still, worse things happen at sea, and I’m looking forward to a shorter, more slow-paced Eurovision season than usual, with a little help from a strong dose of prescription painkillers. Although, having just witnessed today’s Croatian rehearsal, I might have to double-check I haven’t accidentally picked up a course of fast-acting hallucinogens. Taste that crazy rainbow, Jacques…