Diary Of A Busker Day 217 Friday March 30th 2012 Winchester High Street 1. Opposite Reflex, Time: 2:43-4:09pm, 2. Opposite Cheltenham & Gloucester, Time: 4:30-5:28pm, 3. Opposite Bellis, Time: 5:35-6:15pm
Kai and his violin are inbetween The Buttercross and the crossroads which means I can’t set up at either place as both are too close to him, so it’s down at the far end, past the Zoo jewellers who complained that I was too loud – I don’t want to be near them again, and down near the outside tables at Maison Blanc. I spend an hour and a half here, finishing with the complete version of Cavatina (the first time I’ve done this) and The James Bond Theme, variety being the spice of life and all that.
I then stroll up the street and, seeing he’s on a break, chat to Kai, or interrogate him; how long will he be? and so on. He’s come up from Godalming, he’s been here before 11 o’clock and he’ll be here another hour or so, although he WAS going to play somewhere else but because he couldn’t fill up his car due to there being no fuel in any of the petrol stations because everyone has ‘panic bought’ it all, thinking there’s going to be a strike by the truck drivers or something, he’s now going to stop here. He was also going out tomorrow but he reckons (because of the aforementioned reason) he’ll be staying put in Godalming and ‘Winchester’s not what it used to be…’
So I end up back down near where I was for my first set but this time I set up right near the corner, not far from the market stalls and where the buses queue up to turn – a decision which I soon regret as the noise from all this; the market trader’s (and all other people’s) shouting, buses – sometimes five in a row and all just a few feet in front of me, is deafening. One of my oldest regulars – the oldest, I think, as I’m fearing the worst for 100 year old Henry Gray who I haven’t seen in months – 93 year old Ralph sees me from the other side of the road and comes over, carrying two bags of shopping and his cane. We say hellos then he starts singing ‘I’ll take you home again, Kathleen, across the ocean wild and wide…’ I think he sings the whole song! – but I’ve got no idea of the chords. I tell him I’ve heard of the song and that Kathleen’s my mother’s name. He says, ‘It was my wife’s name, as well. She died eight years ago.’ I naturally assume, as I do with all old people, that they got married when they were very young and have been together ever since. ‘I bet you were married a long time, eh Ralph?’ ‘Got married when I was sixty – ‘course, they all live together now. They don’t bother getting married,’ he says, with obvious disapproval. ‘Oh, I don’t know Ralph – a lot of people get married now, it’s back in fashion, I think.’ He stands with me for a few more minutes. I say I’ll be moving on soon as it’s so noisy here. ‘Yes, this is a bad spot,’ he says.
He goes to pick up his bags so I pick one up to give to him and it’s pretty heavy – I ask if he’s alright carrying it all – he is, he says. Ralph’s pretty fit for being 93. As soon as he goes I pack up and five minutes later, I’m playing up the other end of the road, near The Buttercross. Like the other day, a guy walks by wearing a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. He’s with a mate. This isn’t the young guy who I always see with his mother. Again, I employ some blatant opportunism, by way of the opening bars of Stairway To Heaven, followed by the Whole Lotta Love riff. He laughs and says ‘Ah! It’s you again!’ and walks off…however five minutes later they come by again and he gives me a coin, then he says, ‘Smoke On The Water?’ Yes, I can oblige! – played the authentic way, with the right hand plucking the strings (not with a flatpick). ‘Yeah! Highway To Hell?!’ ‘No, sorry – I’ve heard it but I don’t know it.’ I finish off, playing the last fifteen minutes to two young women who sit on the bench opposite, clap after every song – they especially like my James Bond, and blow bubbles from a rather large soap bubble thing.
Earnings: £27.76