Busking In Istiklal Avenue, district of Beyoglu, Istanbul, Turkey, Tuesday December 9th 2014
(Excerpt from cruise diary) 3:15pm. Left ship to go into Istanbul to busk. Nick was going to accompany me and film me, but as his crew card hasn’t been sorted out he wasn’t allowed off the ship. On the way to the 2nd security checkpoint, in the port building (how many do they need?) passed Cyril’s ‘girlfriend’ (who works on the ship) from 3 weeks ago. She said ‘Guest entertainer’ as she passed me. I thought ‘Yep, and you’re one of the guest entertainer’s whores’. She’s still never phoned Cyril after their um…liaison. He’s well cut up about that.
Anyway, into town and up that really steep road which seemed alot steeper and longer than I remember, with the bloody guitar and amp. I passed a few buskers when the road widened into the Oxford Street-like bit at the top. I noticed a bloke just packing his guitar away so I asked if he’d mind filming me here for two minutes. He said he would, after he went to a shop for something. When he returned, I was set up so I gave him my camera, he pressed the record button and I proceeded with a medley of La Vie En Rose and The Third Man. That was the two minutes, I thanked the guy and he left and I decided to stay on. I did Albatross, Wouldn’t It Be Nice, California Girls, Chinatown, Dixie McGuire, Blowin’ In The Wind, Here Comes The Sun, When I’m Sixty-Four, and La Vie En Rose again.
At one point there were about 15 people standing, listening. I never get that at home! I put the woollen hat out – I didn’t bring that bloody pumpkin bucket – but dragged it back in with my foot after a couple of songs. I thought ‘There’s no point, just trying to get some Turkish lira coins’. But then a bloke pulled out a 5 lira note, saw the hat and put it in, so I shoved the hat out again and got some coins: a few 1 lira ones and some coins of lesser denomination. I thought I’d give them to some other buskers on the way back. All those who stopped came up to take a card when I produced them from my train ticket wallet and I got rid of almost all of them. I’d stopped playing when I heard some wailing prayers coming from a P.S. system somewhere. I thought ‘I’d better stop!’
Amazing! So that was it: 25 minutes busking in a place that wasn’t England. The first time I’ve done that. I packed up, took a photo of the earnings: 13.55 lira (around £4) and buggered off…before I got buggered by the bored Turkish cabbies waiting for me down a dark alley – ha! I walked a bit further down and gave 3 lira to a Turkish busker playing a weird violin-like instrument, then I turned back the way I came. I gave the rest of the coins to a one-legged accordionist who was shouting out a Turkish song. I carried on for another minute then thought ‘I’m going to go back and give him the 5 lira note’. I thought ‘What am I going to do with that? I bet he could use it more than me. I mean, the poor bloke’s got one leg. Besides, I’m being paid for this bloody cruise, for goodness sake!’
So I went back and gave him the note…and got a photo of him in action before resumed my walk. I did ask. I passed a cafe that sold kebabs, stopped, thinking ‘I should really get one. I mean a proper Turkish kebab from Istanbul, for Christ’s sake!’ But then I thought ‘I’ve got the snow globe (a must for foreign excursions), I’ve now got the video of me busking. You can’t do everything – maybe I should leave the kebab for the next trip’. But then I thought ‘What if there isn’t a next trip?’ I’m going to have a kebab. So I went back and got one for 3 euros. The guy put the meat in a big sort of pancake bread thing and rolled it up like a wrap, AND he gave me two toothpicks and a packet with a hand tissue, to boot. You don’t get that at The Winchester Kebab House (est. 1988)*. I ate the kebab on the way down the hill and it was very nice. The meat had a much more ‘lamb-ey’ taste – much more earthy. Quite a strong taste. Very good, as was the salad stuff he put in.
Got back to the ship just before 6 o’clock, went through security…
*Now Winchester Kebab & Pizza