Oh Moldova, Moldova, you beautiful people. You open up your application process to the whole country and no one enters for months - then they all rush at the last minute, leaving us with just enough songs to cobble together a couple of half-decent semi-finals. A they may have been late, but oh what joys they provide.
You may remember the fabulous Mr Bumbac here. He had a stab a couple of years back, and got as far as the audition round, where he stood stock still and nervous with his shiny suit and Slavic despot hair, looking every bit like he'd wandered in off the street and thought he was at the grocers. Bless him.
He offered up something a bit locally folky last time, but this year he's gone all exotic and provided us with a shuffle-poppy taste of the Caribbean - and oh what a delight it is! His fragile voice exudes nothing but charm as he recites a tale of his adventures on a Winter's day. There genuinely won't be many happier songs than his this year.
I really do hope the judges at the auditions have their happy heads on this Saturday, because I think the world deserves to see this thoroughly lovely old chap!