Learning on the job . . .

Here’s something you might not know about me:

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I was broke, empty of pocket, devoid of cash flow, completely skint.

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It was early December back in 1982, and I had no money to buy Christmas presents for my family. What to do? How to earn some money quickly?

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My daily commute from Hammersmith to New Cross gave me plenty of reading time for my music degree [I was a 3rd year student at Goldsmiths] – and then it hit me!

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I could go busking!

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And so I did. With my guitar. Acoustic music. This was in the days before portable amps.

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That long corridor linking the Jubilee and Victoria lines at Green Park is a classic place, but very popular with buskers, so it was hard to get a slot without having to wait ages – essentially writing your name and time on the edge of a poster near the pitch.

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At Leicester Square on the Northern Line there was a nice corner at the top of the steps coming up from the platforms, but one day a lad bent down as if to give me some money and then scooped a handful and ran off. That was a bit dis-heartening, not to say gut wrenching. And tho I never got moved on, there was always the worry that the Transport Police might take a dim view.

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And then I found it, the perfect spot. I think I heard another busker spoke about it saying it was too windy for him.

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And where was this wind tunnel?

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The Harrod’s exit of Knightsbridge Tube Station - there’s a lovely curve just before the stairs leading up to the street from the ticket hall.

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AND, because it was OUTSIDE the ticket barriers, the Transport Police actually gave me money, dropping coins onto my guitar case as they walked by! And because the acoustics were gloriously echoey and resonant, like singing in the bath 10x – I could really let my voice soar, and had to keep transposing my songs higher – one of the policemen even called me the Colatura Busker!

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What did I sing, with my guitar? – a mixture of Christmas Carols, some pop songs from the Busker’s Handbooks, some folk songs. If I saw a wealthy-looking little old lady approaching I might swing into Danny Boy. They would beam at me and I would smile back and incline my head in thanks while I sang there, guitar strapped around my neck, loving every minute of it!

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A year later I might have been there again, same place, singing away.

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Perhaps fortunately, a year later I was lying in a hospital bed with my pelvis broken in five places and my spine broken in two places.

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When I heard the news of the Harrod’s bombing my blood went cold – it happened just across the road from that entrance to Knightsbridge tube station . . .

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I learnt about being resourceful, about thinking sideways with my skills and knowledge. Which certainly came in useful with Lockdown 1.0 and realising that I could still do Osteopathy – by Zoom!

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What unusual things have you done that I might not know about?