Saturday, October 18, 2014

Praha, Prosím

We're moving right along!  Since the weekend in Antwerp, I had a lovely four days in Berlin where I did not busk, but did get to know this amazing city, with all its street art, speakeasies, fusbier, and vegan cafes.  This morning I boarded an orange and blue Flixbus, a bit shakily due to the previous two nights' speakeasies and fusbier, and woke up a few hours later in Prague.  Seeing signs in Czech made me all warm and fuzzy (or maybe that was the Dramamine); I was coming back to one of my homes.  I was excited to "speak" Czech again, even if it just meant talking about potatoes.

Now that I'm in the third country since I left the UK, I'm really feeling like I'm on tour.  I forget which language to speak.  I'd be lying if I said I liked setting up in new places every week; I waste so much time wandering around looking for a spot.  Tonight I finally found something and was nearly set up when I was told to move on.  Nooo!

But along with the frustration of learning the ropes in a new city is the excitement of being seen for the first time; of playing for all new people, surrounded by different scenery.  And so once I got going, tonight was really nice.  Being a busker, I do most transactions in cash, usually coins, and I don't like straying from this.  When I pay with my card or withdraw currency, it means I haven't been busking enough, and I'd prefer if my savings stayed put.  I have been using my euros earned in Antwerp, and it was a nice feeling having a surplus to change into koruna upon my arrival in Prague. Hopefully I'll continue to earn more than I'm spending, and pay for the rest of my Europe trip on the go.

I did have some trouble with police tonight, though.  In my first spot, a police car drove up and stopped near me.  I kept playing and glanced in the car, where one seemed to be doing something on his lap.  The only answer I could think of was that he was writing me my first busking citation.  Guess that's my busker initiation done!  Why else weren't they coming to talk already?  It maaaaay have been because they were letting me finish my song (Twin Peaks, Laura's Theme), which is super nice, but who knows.  When they finally exited the car, it was just to nicely tell me that it was forbidden to play there, but that I could play on the street around the corner until 22:30.  It was annoying to pack up, but it was fine.  So I set up around the corner, and after another hour a different cop came by, and asked me, "What's this?" What does it look like? "It's my puppet."  He said that that street was forbidden for music, and that I had to stop at 21:30 anyway.  Come on, cops, get your story straight!

I had one suitor tonight, who asked what time I was finishing.  I told him, thinking he wanted to take over at my spot.  But instead he invited me to have a coffee with him, citing his reasoning as, "I love you.  I love girls who do hobbies."  I'm definitely his girl, then!  (I'm currently at my hostel writing a blog post, not romantically strolling across the Charles Bridge with him, in case you were wondering.)

One British teenage boy saw my sign and said, "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox...I wonder what she's smoking!"  Hey-oh!  So his friend said, "Yeah...WEED!"  Good one.  And the girl in the group sarcastically said, "Oh you're SO funny."  Youth!  

The nicest part of the evening for me was the two little girls who watched me play for a while.  They were there when the second cop shut me down, and they lingered while I packed up.  We confirmed that they only mluvím Český and I only mluvím Anglický, so they couldn't engage me in adorable conversation.  But we had a nice interaction anyway: I handed them Sylvie while I put some stuff away, then began picking up coins to put in my bag, and conjured up my basic Czech numbers I learned this summer to count: jedna...dva...tri...then let the girls take over, which they did enthusiastically.  Every once and I while I yelled "Sto!" (100) but it was not #sto.  They ended up picking up all my money for me, which was a big help!  

Hopefully the Indian summer will continue, and I'll have a few gorgeous days to enjoy my beloved Vltava River, practice my Czech, and earn some travel money.

Dobrou noc!

Monday, October 13, 2014

Alstublieft Again

Due to some complicated travel-related circumstances, I had to rush from London to continental Europe last Friday.  With just a few hours to prepare I spent my pounds, topped up my UK phone, and then found myself back in the land of ubiquitous bicycles and signs that look like they had been typed by my cat: Belgium.

I tended to some business in Ghent, then took the train to Antwerp, the home of my great-grandmother until circa 1920 when she took a Red Star Line ship across the ocean to New York.  Her siblings stayed behind, so we have cousins there: my grandmother's firsts, my mother's seconds, and even a few of my thirds.  I made the "pilgrimage" to visit them in April of 2012, during my first Europe busking tour, and I was happy that the silver lining of this fiasco, or "chocolate lining," in Belgium, meant that I got to see them again.

These are kind, generous people, with many travel experiences, and I really enjoyed visiting them again.  They took great care of me and my accordion!

I was also happy to be back in Antwerp because I remembered doing quite well busking last time.  In April 2012 my act was in the middle of a short-lived "one woman band" phase, in which I strapped percussion instruments to my feet and played a kazoo, accompanied by accordion.  There was no dancing puppet; there was merely a puppet (Flaca) sitting near me with her own tip box because kids liked to give her the money.  Here we are then, playing in front of the then-closed Frituur Number 1.


Here's my blog post from that first time in Antwerp.

Because of recent fiasco-related expenses, I really needed to start making money, so the rain cleared on Saturday and I set up for what was a really good night.  The Frituur is open now, so I pitched right across the street.

I had a nervous moment when two police vehicles pulled up and parked right next to me.  I hadn't gotten a busking permit!  Uh-oh!  But it turns out, being the good Belgians that they are, they just wanted french fries from the Frituur.  Phew!  You can faintly see their vests in this year's Frituur photo, taken from my spot across the street:


It was just a really good Saturday night, followed by a really good Sunday afternoon.  People were everywhere, and they were generous.  I went home with more €2 coins than €1 coins.  Kids were dancing.  After an hour the french fry lady gave me a gesture to request that I move on, and I continued around the corner which was even better.  The street was quiet, except for the quarter-hour church bells, and the cobblestone streets and old buildings gave the scene its character.

I had a major score on Sunday: I went to the chocolate store and the girl working said they were low on change.  So I went back after playing and swapped coins for bills, and since she thought I was doing THEM a favor gave me some Belgian chocolates!  Yessss.

Here's Sylvie, with her brand-new Poundland "stagelights," in front of the building with all the flags:



I try to take a minute to reflect when I find myself busking where I've busked before, after time has passed.  I tried to summon up the spirit or whatever of 2012 Sophie, across the street with her auburn hair and old piano dress.  The fact that she didn't know what would happen on her trip, but I do.  Her slight cold would turn into a bad case of strep, wiping out her upcoming weekend in Paris and sending her to family friends in Switzerland for antibiotics and R&R.  She would spontaneously decide to go to Israel, have a fabulous eye-opening experience, and go snorkeling for the first time.  About a month from that day busking, she would spend six hours detained at the Ediburgh airport, having no idea if she would be allowed to finish her adventure there. 

I am once again at the beginning of a trip, with so many unknowns.  Maybe in two years I will go back to Antwerp, set up in the same spot again with an awesome puppet act that can do all the things I want it to do, playing complete Iron Maiden albums, and I'll have a similar reflection.  I'll know whether or not I got my India visa in time, I'll be able to picture Budapest, and I'll know if it was indeed a bad idea to send my fleece jacket home this early.  Maybe that spot will remind me of what was on my mind in October of 2014: the fact that I was sad to rush out of the UK without seeing some key friends, or not enough of them; the amazing guy I left behind in Glasgow; how overjoyed I am to have bought this beautiful blue leather jacket for £10 at Camden Market; trying to figure out how to use my new smartphone.

I know I've changed since last time.  I had a way better haircut then, and I didn't have these bullshit eye wrinkles.  I know who I am as a traveler and know what I hope to achieve.  I don't mind long bus journeys as much.  I have more friends around around the world than I did two years ago, and I know how to say "Do you speak English?" in many more languages.  In other ways, I'm the same.  I'll still survive off of bread, cheese, and raw carrots on this trip; I still have a "bus bag" stocked with motion sickness pills; my 2007 iPod nano is still trucking along; and I tow the same, painted accordion box, only it's now joined by a Batman lunchbox full of puppet supplies.

So now I'm off on the trip that will get me my 30th country, and hopefully achieve my first four-continent year (come on, India visa!!!).  Stay tuned for updates from Hungary and Slovakia, possibly Slovenia and Croatia.

Till next time!