As the people of Sweden slept, we sat and waited and waited and waited.

From time to time, as we enjoyed the brilliant conversation, excellent company and a soundtrack of both this and last year’s “Melodifestivalen”, we checked online from time to time without success. Even by late afternoon there was still no sign of “Andra Chansen”.

This was the third year in a row a group of us have gathered at a Sydney pub to watch Melodifestivalen, the Swedish finals leading to Eurovision.

Last year I was, of course, in Sweden for actual final and called my friends long-distance at about three o’clock in the morning. “Here, Patrick, you talk to him… he sounds drunk” was a phrase I recall from the night.

This year it was all a bit different with Gustav visiting us from Sweden. And so we decorated the pub with yellow and blue streamers and balloons.

Six hours of Swedish pop was about enough, with festivities ending up about seven, and still there was no sign of “Andra Chansen” showing up.

In the grand scheme of things, I guess it didn’t matter so much, since we all had already heard the songs, and most of us knew the result.

And the real point of the day was a fun catch-up with friends, anyway.