Tonight is the Eurovision Song Contest. To the Brits this is a fairly unremarkable event but for the rest of Europe a night of essential TV watching and rooting for the home country.
Last year we watched a large TV screen especially brought in for the occasion in a beach taverna in Lefkada. Everyone arrived early to bag the best tables and the air was nosiy with voices of various Scandinavians, lots of Greeks, the odd German, a French couple and lastly a few quieter Brits, ourselves included. As each contestant appeared each nationality cheered for their own. The Eastern Europeans, the Finns and the Turkish singer were fiercely derided. Helena Paparizou of Greece got the loudest cheer of all.
The voting was nail biting, some of the diners resorted to catcalls and arguements amongst themsleves, it was deemed unfair; some countries appeared to be voting tactically for their friends, this was booed with gusto. Locals from the surrounding houses joined the throng for the latter stages when it appeared Greece itself was in the lead. Food service was suspended, always slow, it ground to a complete halt as the waiters and the cook emerged from the kitchen to study the screen. One sole barman kept the wine and beer flowing.
It was difficult to understand the Greek commentator, a much more serious individual than 'Our Tel' on BBC1 back home. Only the scoreboard was clear, Greece was almost home and dry. At the last moment a huge cheer went up, Greeks were slapping each other on the back. Helena had won. The German contingent got up and left immediately and woe betide the waiter if he didn't deal with their bill that instant. The Scandinavians, laughed and sank back into their beers. We looked on, outsiders, totally bemused.
Celebratory ouzo was passed round, I hate the stuff with a vengeance much preferring Metaxa but it seemed churlish to pass it up. Out of the darkness gun shots rang out, a form of celebration usually reserved for wedding receptions and the European Cup Final, the young men celebrated their national pride. The other side of the bay firecrackers could be seen as flashes in the sky and the crackle and the dazzle went on for several minutes. Looking up to the windows above the restaurant we saw faces of small chldren peeping out, awoken by all the fuss below.
It was a late night that night. We left at 1am, by then friends with all who remained and invited by the owner to return again for a free coffee and drinks. We left around 30 people in the taverna, a hard core of celebrants still drinking. We walked the mile to our appartment along the sandy coast road and passed several houses whose occupants, unusually, were still up and singing and drinking, even the old ladies were still sitting in the kitchen doorways. The party went on long into the night.
The contest tonight takes place in Athens, I really wish I were there. I will be in spirit.
Last year we watched a large TV screen especially brought in for the occasion in a beach taverna in Lefkada. Everyone arrived early to bag the best tables and the air was nosiy with voices of various Scandinavians, lots of Greeks, the odd German, a French couple and lastly a few quieter Brits, ourselves included. As each contestant appeared each nationality cheered for their own. The Eastern Europeans, the Finns and the Turkish singer were fiercely derided. Helena Paparizou of Greece got the loudest cheer of all.
The voting was nail biting, some of the diners resorted to catcalls and arguements amongst themsleves, it was deemed unfair; some countries appeared to be voting tactically for their friends, this was booed with gusto. Locals from the surrounding houses joined the throng for the latter stages when it appeared Greece itself was in the lead. Food service was suspended, always slow, it ground to a complete halt as the waiters and the cook emerged from the kitchen to study the screen. One sole barman kept the wine and beer flowing.
It was difficult to understand the Greek commentator, a much more serious individual than 'Our Tel' on BBC1 back home. Only the scoreboard was clear, Greece was almost home and dry. At the last moment a huge cheer went up, Greeks were slapping each other on the back. Helena had won. The German contingent got up and left immediately and woe betide the waiter if he didn't deal with their bill that instant. The Scandinavians, laughed and sank back into their beers. We looked on, outsiders, totally bemused.
Celebratory ouzo was passed round, I hate the stuff with a vengeance much preferring Metaxa but it seemed churlish to pass it up. Out of the darkness gun shots rang out, a form of celebration usually reserved for wedding receptions and the European Cup Final, the young men celebrated their national pride. The other side of the bay firecrackers could be seen as flashes in the sky and the crackle and the dazzle went on for several minutes. Looking up to the windows above the restaurant we saw faces of small chldren peeping out, awoken by all the fuss below.
It was a late night that night. We left at 1am, by then friends with all who remained and invited by the owner to return again for a free coffee and drinks. We left around 30 people in the taverna, a hard core of celebrants still drinking. We walked the mile to our appartment along the sandy coast road and passed several houses whose occupants, unusually, were still up and singing and drinking, even the old ladies were still sitting in the kitchen doorways. The party went on long into the night.
The contest tonight takes place in Athens, I really wish I were there. I will be in spirit.
2 comments:
Jas,
You must be on your trip...ah, I can practically taste the ouzo...I like the stuff. Sounds like you are having the usual wonderful time.
How are you feeling? Is the weather there a help or hindrance?
Damp here and I am back in pool therapy...hurting like
he&*!!! It is improving though as I go more.
Miss you Jas!
Love,
Suz
Great to see you Suz. Not gone yet, watch this space!!
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