Ok, so we're on the plane to Belgrade...
Zoran Zero Zero's got bags of 'Maria Luisa' swag to kit out J P Gaultier, Guy-Man Daft's got a really cool vintage 'Spacemen 3' tour T-shirt & Audrey Recordmaker's got a lovely new haircut.
It's (& everyone's) looking good for Sebastien...
As we drive past the 'Confluence of Sound' conference centre down-town where 'The Event' is to be held, I can't but help notice a pack of wild dogs (ten of 'em - five couples - I counted...) violently fornicating on the arena forecourt, oblivious to all in the blue-ish hue of Lada fumes that mist up the intense Serbian sunshine.
Is this an omen ? Does this terrifying image mean something ?
As the 'most important concert in international history' (©Serbian tourist board) - the Eurovision song contest (YEAH !), gets under way, everything seems to make perfect sense...
(Except the Georgian entry perhaps, who is blind (there's always one...) & who, really, should have been deaf instead of 'visually challenged'...)
We got pyrotechnics, we got euro-dance, we got rhymes, we got class...
(oh, and a lot of us have got sparkling underwear too !)
WTF ?
All I can think about are the dogs f**king in the baking afternoon sun...
"Europe, can we have your scores please..?"
I'm sat in the car with my best new friendly promoters as we drive across country to Croatia (Zagreb) for the next gig.
The Belgrade gig - er - my gig (a slightly smaller one - there were no presenters drowning in hair-gel present) was amazing !
I look out the window - Villages that, not ten years ago, were complete warzones are pointed out to me. We pass Bosnia...
Beauty spots that remain 'no go' areas due to still-active land-mines fill the horizon.
A mexican meal in Croatia later and the gig in Zagreb was brilliant too !
So why can I only still focus on the f**king dogs - who are now wearing beards, sunglasses, sparkly knickers & driving golfcarts, trying desperately to avoid unexploded bombs...?
"Europe, can we have your scores please ?"