Day 2179 Thursday June 22nd 2023 Salisbury
In the morning, I saw a video put up by a young strummer, about his busking day in Salisbury. He played around three hours, made over £100 and said the people were really friendly so I thought I’d give it a go. In fact, the train ticket’s the same price as Reading or Chichester and it takes an hour to get there, which isn’t too bad. I mean, although it’s an hour to get to Chichester, it’s an hour and a half to get back, as I have to come back via Southampton.
First priority is to get my bearings, have a look around and see who’s about…and who else is in the High Street but Rob, his wife, and his skeleton drummer. We had to laugh – it’s a bloody small world. Also there were two official-looking blokes; I think they were having a word with Rob about his volume. Talk came round to Winchester and that awful woman from the chocolatiers at the Buttercross. I told Rob I call her Vampira. Rob calls her Morticia.
She’s had it in for me for years – way back from when she worked at Pandora. Well, things might be looking up because the other day, when the son and heir was up from London, we went into Greggs, down the road from the Buttercross, and she was there behind the counter, with a “trainee” badge on! Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with her – Jude bought his sausage roll, we left and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“So the buskers got too much for her, so she moved further down the road, eh?!” said Rob.
“Yeah, I hope so. I knew it was her the minute I walked in, even though her hair was all covered up. I got a chill down my spine, bloody horrible she is.”
Enough chat, I said goodbye/good luck and went off to find a spot. I found the big market square and a couple of blokes playing on a sort of concrete ventilation platform on a corner. It’s obviously a natural buskers platform but it’s a bit grubby and even if those blokes weren’t there, it just doesn’t appeal to me. I went back round the corner and set up in front of a vacant shop near what looks like a poor relation of The Cross in Chichester. There’s no shade, it’s too hot and I have to take my new Saint Hilaire charity shop jacket off or I’ll pass out.
I had some friendly people come up – some had seen me in Winchester – but he coinage was terrible – a fiver for my time – so I didn’t hang around after the hour was done. But it was long enough to have some weirdo plonk himself down next to me just before I packed up.
“I’d like to sing with you, you know?”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to offend but I just do this on my own – just the guitar.”
“Well, I though it would be good for us to do something. Do you know Red House – Jimi Hendrix?”
“I know the song but I don’t do it.”
“I’ve had two songs in Hollywood films.”
“Have you? Why are you hear talking to me, then? So you must have made a bit of money? (he didn’t look it). What’s your name?”
“Johnny Allen, or John…yeah well…I just thought we could do something…I’ve got a studio at home.”
He then got his phone out and played some of his music which wasn’t really up my street – “Listen, after this bit, it all freaks out”. I needed to get on – “Look, I can’t hear that very well – my hearing’s bad – I’ll give you my card and you can send me a link but I’ve got to get moving and play somewhere else and try and make some money, ok?”
I then tried to find a toilet – there was one in the market square near the main road but they were charging 20p. 20p for a pee? Bollocks to that! I ended up back in the High Street as Rob was just about all packed up. I said “I met a bloke who says he’s had two songs in Hollywood films.”
“Did he want to do Red House?” Brilliant.
I bemoaned the loo that was charging for it and Rob said I should just go to The Boston Tea Party place right here across the road. “I go in there, they don’t mind. Just go in there, up the stairs.” So I did. Nice big sink to wash your hands in, as well. Speaking of water, they’ve got a thing outside where you can refill your water bottle, which I have to say is bloody useful on a day like this.
Rob and his missus went off and I set up a bit further down and almost opposite to the entrance to the Old George Mall…and did a bit better – £30 for just over two hours. A young bloke with long hair was on a bench next to me for awhile and when he left, he donated and said I should visit again, which was rather fetching.
After that long set, I had a mind to head back to the station but decided I had to try and make more than £35 on my first visit so I went back to the square and mulled about where I should set up. While doing so, a old bloke with long hair came by and, noting my gigbag, said “You look like you’re going to do something special with that.” “Well, I’m not going to smash it up!” After mulling it over for another couple of minutes, I set up in front of a pizza place with Costa Coffee and The Ox Row Inn just up and to my right and lots of people at the outside tables. I did an hour and a bit, sold a CD, after Here Comes The Sun, a woman donated, said it was her favourite song (it’s all about being in the right place at the right time, etc.) and asked if she could film me, so I started it again. I had a few more friendly visitors, inflicted various sections of the Hard Luck Story upon the more curious – “I played in rock groups for 35 years but was losing my hearing so I had to give that up and now it’s just me and the guitar and the little amp…”
After an hour and a bit, I packed up. So, unlike the young strummer, I didn’t quite make £100 – in fact, after the train fare, I’d made a mere £39 but yes, he was right about the friendly inhabitants, so I will definitely return, maybe on a Tuesday, as I’m told that’s Market Day.