Our time in Lisbon is starting to get a little blurry and most of the time we can’t remember which day it is. So here’s a recap of what went down during the last two days.
So, surprise, surprise, yesterday was also fun:
We woke up in sunny Mouraria, our new favourite part of Lisbon, apart from when the church bells are ringing. We worked real hard at our regular jobs for a few hours, while playing Philip Kirkorov’s “disco partisani” on repeat. Then we went to Metropolitana Music school, where Alexander Rybak was teaching the Eurovision stars of tomorrow to smile while playing. We figured he should have had a class for several of the Eurovision stars of today also. Like Netta or the Armenian bloke. Continue reading
So last nigh was fun! We hit the ground running and managed to pop by the press center and pretend to by journalists, catch up on the latest gossip and stalk a couple of the artists for a selfie within a couple hours on Portuguese soil. We are getting so old we have basically realized we don’t have any time left to waste. Continue reading
Yay, we finally got Alexander Rybak onstage and the rest of the world caught up with our winning feeling! That guy is so fabulous we had to call our largest tabloid immediately and tell them a few words of truth. But we also noticed a few other things, of course: Continue reading
Yay, another day of rehearsals is finished. We needed some time to recover after seeing Austria in leather, but can now quietly have a glass of port knowing no more artists ended up in the hospital today. Guess Lisbon got thos safety guidlines in place almost in time. Continue reading
OMG, we’ve just lived through the first day of rehearsals in Lisbon and it was awful. Now, there’s a sentence we’d never thought we’d say.
Best jacket buttoning of the evening: Sweden’s Robin. We are so proud of you for managing to button your jacket all by yourself, darling.
Best superpower eyes of the evening: Australia’s Isaiah. If anyone tries to do anything scary in or around Eurovision, just let Isaiah have a look at them, We assure you, they’ll all turn nice in a second.
Yay, yesterday was our first party at EuroClub. And what more appropriate than to attend the Israeli party, where they had great falafel, tons of performances by various artists and the best host ever to be seen on a stage in Kyiv. This is the one day a year where we are allowed to love Israel unconditionally, and we make good use of it, of course. Also, it was very good to do some dancing after stuffing our faces with at least half a kilo melted cheese in a Georgian restaurant.
We have some awards to hand out:
We started wearing cotton again and struggle to not reach Post Eurovision Depression Syndrom yet, but it is kind of hard as we are already back in Norway and here they entered that days ago. Nonetheless. We have quite a few awards to hand out:
Best start of a final evening: The great Thomas G:Son himself, suddenly taking a seat by our dinner table in a friendly neighbourhood restaurant in Stockholm. He might of course have been waiting there for us to show up for days, but we choose to believe it was a coincidence, which is less embarrassing. He hinted at Ukraine winning and even made Schlagerboys like guitars, which now makes us think he has divine powers.
Worst we-really-will-do-anything-to-get-on-tv moment: Us cheering for the rubbish Austrian entry, as a camera man was preparing audience filming close by and we desperately needed to show our faces to our mums at home. We have no integrity left now, but then we didn’t have so much to begin with. And at least we also showed the Georgian flag to 200 million viewers.
Yay, that was one FABULOUS semi final. We are still high on Georgia or a naked Måns Zelmerlöw with woolf or vodka shots or all of the above, but we have a few awards to hand out, nonetheless.
Biggest cheer in the arena: The crowd during and after Australia’s performance. What a great idea of EBU to move Australia to Europe. It really saves us a lot of travelling time, so we’re considering spending New Year’s Eve in Sydney next year.