Busking in the UK

A random blowing my horn in Kensington Gardens

I spent the last month in the UK, and I have to say despite warm beer, foggy days and whining Brits, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

The busking was up and down. The 40,000 police bought into London during the Olympics didn’t help the situation much.

The police in London intimidated me a lot more than usual. I found myself being a lot more conservative than usual. One day I was playing in St James Park near Buckingham Palace. My set was going quite well until I saw two cops nearby. They started walking towards me. I held my nerve and kept playing. They were only 10 metres away from me now, one reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of coins and threw them in my case. Perhaps they’re not so scary after all.

I was more relaxed heading up north. Manchester bought loads of compliments and very little money while Leeds ended with an impromptu jam session with a trumpet player in an apartment 10 floors above me.

Grimsby was the real surprise though. Known for its fisherman, heroine addicts and teenage mothers, I was surprised to find it one of my most lucrative spots in the UK.

The Edinburgh Fringe Festival was incredibly, a little too incredible. With 1,000’s of world class acts, I was way out of my league.

In Glasgow, it rained.