Diary Of A Busker Day 538 Saturday April 5th 2014 Winchester (Opposite Bellis, Time: 3:39-4:50pm). It’s been drizzling all day, but what the hell: if I can get the spot in The Pentice, I can do it… but I don’t want to overdo it as I did three hours yesterday and three the day before, actually more than three in… Read more →
Tag: Guitar Lessons
Diary Of A Busker Day 537
Diary Of A Busker Day 537 Friday April 4th 2014 Winchester (1. Opposite Pavillion, Time: 1:30-2:06pm, 2:13-3:15pm, 2. Opposite Vodafone, Time: 4:07-5:30pm). I set up opposite Pavillion, which I can’t see because there’s that big brown UPS delivery van parked in front of me. I see this van all the time, and the guy who drives it who has a… Read more →
Diary Of A Busker Day 536
Diary Of A Busker Day 536 Thursday April 3rd 2014 Chichester (1. In front of HSBC bank, The Cross, Time: 11:38-1:08pm, 2. Opposite Next, Time: 1:40-2:50pm, 3. Opposite HSBC bank, Time: 3:17-4:05pm). The blonde woman’s here today at her mobile stall of phone covers and cheap jewellery, and there’s a burger stall manned between a man and a young fat… Read more →
Diary Of A Busker Day 535
Diary Of A Busker Day 535 Wednesday April 2nd 2014 Winchester (Opposite Bellis, Time: 2:01-4:02pm). Guy and part of his franchise are at The Butter Cross on a break…around the corner there are two vans in front of the craft shop…down the road and turn the corner and I can hear someone at the Vodafone spot, and when I walk… Read more →
Diary Of A Busker Day 534
Diary Of A Busker Day 534 Tuesday April 1st 2014 Winchester (Opposite Bellis, Time: 1:05-3:05pm) While I’m setting up, I see that foreign nanny sitting across the way with the little girl, Ariadne, in one of those old-fashioned looking prams that are very high. Very expensive, I reckon. Before I start, I try and mentally prepare myself for a bad… Read more →
Diary Of A Busker Day 533
Diary Of A Busker Day 533 Monday March 31st 2014 Winchester (1. Opposite Vodafone, Time: 2:27-2:45pm, 2. Opposite Pavillion, Time: 2:49-3:12pm). Mandolin John’s at The Butter Cross, shouting and strumming away. I’m going to have to stop calling him that – it’s the guitar all the time, now…no, sod it, I’m going to keep calling him Mandolin John. It’s pretty dead… Read more →