Day 2663

Day 2663
Wednesday March 4th 2026
Winchester

The front brake of the bike is acting up – the wheel is squeaking and there’s a delay in the release of the brake, which is doing my head in so on coming into town I dropped it off at the bike shop around the corner from Sainsbury’s. It was a bad idea to leave the bike out during the recent Florence holiday as the rain continued in its relentlessness. So after dropping it off, I walked up the road…and Dean’s set up at the crossroads, all out of sorts because of the scaffolding up the road at the top spot – that’s HIS spot and he doesn’t set up anywhere else. I didn’t chat to him as there was that fat biker bloke engaging him in conversation but as I went by he pointed up the road and raised his arms in a show of desperation. Poor Dean!

I was thinking of setting up nearby, at the cathedral grounds entrance but we would have heard each other so I carried on up Market Street and set up in The Square, in a sunny bit near the museum entrance, once again with the 12-string – 3rd time on the trot.

There are a few sitting outside the eateries and a steady stream coming in and out of the cathedral grounds and the alleyway to the Buttercross seems to be open again…but coinage is painfully slow. A man walked by – ‘Is that the Tales Of The Unexpected?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, you got it.’
‘I haven’t got any money, sorry,’ he says, walking away.
‘Oh, well, I’ve got this thing you scan.’
‘Um…oh…I’ll get you on the way back.’

Half an hour later and I’ve accumulated a whopping 60p. A few minutes later, the arse from The Hambledon came out and walked down the road, head to his phone. Ooh, I wonder if he’s phoning the council on me…a bunch of girls dance around during Can’t Take My Eyes Off You – no donation…but a pound coin comes from a man a few minutes later. After an hour, I’ve pretty well had enough – there have been no more donations, which is shocking, really.

Two girls – well, young women – they could be anywhere from 18 to 27 for all I know – stop near me and do the thing they all do, which is take turns posing while the other one takes the photo. This is now standard behaviour everywhere. In Florence, we spent hours sitting outside cafes, observing this. The girl will do one or more of the requisite poses – putting her forefinger to her chin, with or without raising one of her feet (usually with), doing the heart sign with her hands, then there’s the pouting lips, usually with head thrown back, and all time in between shots, touching her hair, getting it right. In Florence, a girl was doing all this, hoiked up on the wall near the river with the Ponte Vechio in the background. She took ten minutes sorting herself out before her friend took the photo, then when she saw it…no, it wasn’t right, she has to go through the whole rigmarole again – hair, pout, head in exact right position, legs just so. And then, AND ONLY THEN could another photo be taken. And then, if that photo wasn’t right, the whole thing again. And then it’s her turn to be the photographer. It’s as if ALL girls/young women are models posing for Vogue and it was hilarious. Hours of fun watching it.

Anyway, back to the session. I packed up after an hour and 15 minutes. I mean, enough’s enough! There was one more donation, putting the grand total up the THREE. It was from a young bloke who was sitting with his girlfriend on the bench near the shops opposite. He gave £2.05, which put the total up to £3.65, and I was bloody grateful.
Oh, that man from earlier. Did he come back? Did he my arse!