Oh hello Cyprus, where they drive on the left and launder Russian money. You know, like London only hotter. We used to go to Cyprus on holiday when I was a kid, and I was always badgering to go visit that hauting disused airport in Nicosia but instead we just seemed to visit pirate video shops to buy grainy copies of Die Hard than ran out before the end.
It's not cheap entering Eurovision you know. There's the entry fee, flights, hotels, ridiculously overpriced souveniers, half a ton of cocaine, and flags for the delegation to be acquired, not to mention the ever present fear that you might win the thing and then be stiffed with shelling out on hosting it the year after.
So after their financial collapse and big banking bailout in 2012, times have been tough for the Cypriots, with their entries having to become ever more creative about the financials- but rather than sending their singer on her own like they did in 2012 or finding a record company to sponsor the entry like most of the rest of Europe, CyBC did a deal with Fyffes- the fruit people with the funny little stickers. Oh look! There's Eleni with a pineapple! Ooh er- there's Eleni with a bunch of bananas! That sort of thing.
The song though is great. It's the sort of thing that's largely missing from Eurovision these days- a saucy slice of slutpop that sounds contemporary and upbeat and authentically southern european and sweaty and fast and hooky and sunshiney and just BRILLIANT.
Her live vocals are terrible apparently, but given the Cypriot history of being
relatively shameless about swapping out the vocals for one of the 5 allowed backing singers that shouldn't matter much, and best of all with the new voting system they'll get TWO lots of Douze Points from the Greeks, which is two shots of Ouzo in the drinking game. Stin iyá su!