Spain's national final was like a BAFTA tribute to Pastora Soler. Once she had sung the three songs shortlisted for the trip to Azerbaijan, viewers were then treated to many (many) hours of various people from Pastora's life popping up to tell her how marvellous she is - which made her weep to such an extent each time it was the easiest Saturday night shift ever for Spanish telly's vision mixer. (Although, personally, I think Pastora secretly disliked everyone who turned up to wax lyrical about her and was apoplectic with rage about them gegging in on her big moment). It was worth the wait for the big vote, though. Quédate Conmigo was clearly written with Pastora's powerful lungs in mind as she projects it with such force and has money notes placed so strategically placed they could cause the Earth's rotation to reverse if pitched correctly. This is, quite frankly, the strongest Spanish entry I can remember since they fluked the silver medal in 1995. It has a Swedish contribution on the songwriting side of things which gives a small hint as to why this doesn't meander through its three minutes as other Iberian ballads do and has a structure more appealing to the wider audience. Songwriters aside, the best thing about this song is, without doubt, Pastora. She's so good she takes what is already a decent song and elevates it somewhere rather special indeed.

Nobody ever mentions the luck of the Spanish - but for the third time in four years, they got the wildcard at the draw for the running order which allowed them to select their starting position. Naturally, they wanted to go somewhere late on. They'll be going 19th on Saturday night which is a fine speck for such a powerful ballad to be plonked. We know what follows it (you'll find out about that song tomorrow). I don't think this is anywhere near as good a song as Nina Zilli's but in a year where all of the Big 5 have pulled their tripes out to send something decent, this will be right up there in six days from now.