How We Nearly Missed Eurovision

by Stuart McNaughton

My heart sank as I read the email from SAS.  With just three weeks to go before Eurovision week in Stockholm, my flight from Malta to Stockholm (via Rome) had been changed, so that instead of a 6 hour flight, we would end up with a 13 hour flight via Copenhagen.

Given that we had booked the flights already seven months earlier, I lost my cool because this 13 hour connection meant that we would miss the first Jury show as our flight wouldn’t arrive until after 10pm.  I forwarded the email to Niall, my friend in Australia, assuming he had the same issue because we were meeting up in Malta and then travelling Stockholm together.

It emerged he had the same issue, and that’s when I started to worry: would we get there? Would we have to buy more flights? How much would they cost with just three weeks to go?  After some whatsapp chat, we agreed that it was best that I called SAS from London so I’m patiently waiting to be put through to an SAS Agent.

Sven finally comes on the line, speaking perfect English.  There’s me on the line, blubbering, hollering, begging Sven to check the connections, to see if there’s an alternative to the 13 hour total journey time.  No, explained Sven.  The problem is due to an aircraft being taken out of service from Malta to Rome, therefore missing your connection to Stockholm.  I understood this, I told him, but then I started to explain that I had booked these flights so long ago and to get this information so late in the day was so bad.

In the meantime, Niall was looking at alternative flights with other airlines: the cost was too high, the connection was too bad, or even worse than what SAS were coming back with.  It was only at this time I realised how isolated Malta clearly was.

Sven provided an alternative route, which was only 15 minutes shorter than the 13 hour route.  This is when I lost my temper. “Sven,” I said. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but the reason why I must get to Stockholm earlier is because I am part of the Maltese delegation for this year’s Eurovision.”

I heard tapping in the background, and Sven finally spoke: “Can I call you back? I may be able to do something, Mr. Stuart.”  Hmph, I thought.  My name isn’t Mr. Stuart, but let’s focus on the issue here: getting to Eurovision.  I gave him my mobile number and, about an hour later, I get a call from a Danish number.  I answer the call and it’s good and bad news: we still won’t get there in time for the jury show, but our flight time has been reduce to six hours with a flight via Frankfurt.

I was relieved, and thanked Sven.  While the show had to go on, we would be arriving fashionably late, as members of the so-called Maltese delegation.