Day 2730
Wednesday August 12th 2026
Winchester
The Square is dead and there’s a bloke setting up some stuff (no guitar or piano or any instrument I can see) in the flower seller’s alley so I’m up at the crossroads…and it’s another hot day at 30-32 degrees but at least I’m in the shade. There’s another short European sojourn happening on the morrow – to Amsterdam and Haarlem – so this is a last minute session before I’m off.
There are a few Boomtowners about who donate – they’ll have never seen me before. Ooh, what a treat for them!
An old woman and husband who’ve seen me loads of times come up after the Gnossienne – ‘What was that one you just played? I used to play it on the piano, not very well.’
‘That’s the Gnossienne…and I sometimes don’t play it very well.’
‘Who wrote that one, do you know?’
‘Yeah, Erik Satie. It’s a piano piece. Sounds really nice on the piano.’
‘Not when I play it!’
‘Have you got another book for sale?’
‘No, not yet. It’s with the publishers but they’re busy with other stuff. It takes a long time to put a book together. People don’t realise. I can’t do it myself.’
‘Well, tell them to pull their finger out!’
‘OK, I’ll relay that.’
The arse who hassled me a few days ago about singing is about. He’s with a down and out woman outside Pret. He’s bloody horrible. He’s shirtless again and got a load of missing front teeth and his jeans down too far. When I do the chorus of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You, he bellows out ‘I love you baby’ at the top of his voice and grimaces at me. I instinctively stop playing and give him a grimace of my own (a frown – I’m good at that) before starting up again. If Big Neil was about, I’d have a word with him but he’s not. Typical!
Fortunately, the arse buggers off on his bike.
There’s a bit of a racket coming from a bloke up a ladder nailing some planks of wood to the outside of the Vodafone shop diagonally opposite. This is intermittent but it goes on the whole time I’m here. During Cavatina I think ‘I bet John Williams doesn’t have to put up with this’ which gives me a great deal of amusement. I mean, you gotta laugh, haven’t you?’
All during the set I’m thinking it would be good to get another video as I haven’t done a Live in Winchester one in ages, but I don’t want to ask someone I don’t know. But I’m in luck. I spot ace luthier Jimmy Cole go into the Mountain Warehouse shop, opposite Vodafone. Who better to ask? After all, he did some good work on the guitar I’m playing. After a few minutes he comes out…but he doesn’t come over. He walks down the high street. Bugger! But wait, a few minutes later he’s back to say hello.
‘Jimmy, could you do me a favour and record me doing something? a video, because I haven’t done one in ages.’ Of course he will. But I can’t decide what to do because I can’t decide on any bloody thing these days.
‘How about Tales Of The Unexpected?’ says Jimmy.
‘You’re on, cheers Jimmy.’
And so he does, which is good because the coinage was nothing to write home about. £13.65 for a hot and sweaty 1 1/2 hour set.