Diary Of A Busker Day 168 Friday October 14th Romsey (market, Time: 10:18-12:22, 2:05-3:05pm), Winchester High Street (1. opposite O2, Time: 4:10-5:10, 2. opposite Vodafone, Time: 5:20-6:10pm).
I return to Romsey – my second time. Before I start, I chat to Bertie the flower-seller. He’s been here since 5:30 this morning and because his van’s not big enough, he has to go back and get another load of flowers from a place 10 miles away after he dumps off his first van load. He’ll be doing that for another year, until he can afford a bigger van. It’s a long day – he works hard. The weather’s getting cooler but it’s still fine to play and I have a good two hours before my break, during which I count my money – £38.85p – very good. I make the most of being in Romsey and visit the Abbey – which I’ve been facing while eating my lunch/smoking my pipe. Romsey Abbey is alot cheaper – they don’t force you to pay, not like at Winchester (Cathedral) – although “Any contributions are appreciated”, say the two red-robed religious people, who tell me where all the interesting things are, “…and Mountbatten’s over there…” He’ll do – that’s good enough for me. I go and take a photo of his stone, under which lie the remains of the great man – blown to bits on his yacht, courtesy of the IRA.
EARL MOUNTBATTEN OF BURMA
LORD OF THE ADMIRALTY
1900 – 1979
IN HONOUR BOUND
Back for my second set and the money’s not nearly as plentiful – £10 for the hour, down to the usual rate for Winchester, though it’s still been worth me coming here. Just before I pack up, the bakery stall guy – who I’m sure I’ve seen somewhere before – plonks a huge pasty into my bucket. Thanks.
Like before, I decide to do a bit of busking when I get back home to Winchester and apart from Frank (and his accordion), there’s no one else about, so I set up near The Buttercross, play…and watch everyone go by, and get hardly any money – just like when I came back from Romsey before. Mike, the ex cruise musician drops by for a chat and while he’s here a guy walks by and drops something white in the bucket. I look in and pull out one of those small salt packets you get at McDonalds and other places. This makes me angry so I get Mick to hold my guitar while I go after this guy. I catch him up, “Excuse me – Here, you can have this back!” “Oh, I thought it was a pound coin”, he says. A pound coin? Give me a break.
After the hour, I’ve had enough – there’s no money here. I go down to where Frank was, near one end of the market – he’s gone now. The guy running the end stall (the bakery) looks familiar…he hears me start up, looks over and shouts “Are you following me around?” It’s the same guy who I saw an hour before at Romsey, who gave me the pasty! We must have the same “tour” dates.
An old lady likes my short Spanish piece – Estudio En Mi Minor, by Tarrega, but thinks it’s “that one from The Killing Fields.” This confuses me. She thinks again. “The one from The Deer Hunter, I mean.” Of course, she means Cavatina – I correct her. Yes, that’s it. It reminds her of when she went with her husband to Majorca. They would hear that “on the tape, every evening – before we had our meal. So I had that played at his funeral, when we had our tea.” Yes, he would have liked that…
Earnings: £62.04p (Romsey – £48.34p, Winchester – £13.70p)
Expenses: £6.10p (bus fare)