Český Krumlov

Today was my first snowy busking of the season!  I took a break from the hustle and bustle of Prague to go to the tiny, adorable, UNESCO recognized town of Český Krumlov.  This was a fabulous getaway: I stayed in a really cozy hostel, Krumlov House, heard a live gypsy band, ate goulash with bread dumplings, and blissfully watched the first snowfall of the season.

I planned to busk, since I was sure it would be full of tourists, but the weather prohibited my standard Saturday marathon.  Instead, I set up this morning for a couple hours on a lovely bridge going over the Vltava river.  I had a view of not only the river but the colorful tower of the castle, and the dusting of snow over the roofs and the hills beyond.

A man at the other end of the bridge was selling mulled wine and hot chocolate, ringing a bell on occasion.  Everything was a bit slushy and icy, so I kicked some snow out of the way to try to make a level surface for my setup.  Regardless, everything was wet, so I could not put anything down.  All my setup was done with my accordion on!  

There was a decent amount of foot traffic.  The majority of people were in tour groups, but there were smaller parties, as well as locals and children.  One kid chucked some snowballs at her mother who didn't notice, because she was watching me.  Yesss.  One older Czech tour guide tried saying something to me, then mimed that I shouldn't play while she was talking.  Fair enough.  In general, a couple other locals commented, but it was hard to assess their sentiments about my performance.  One looked sort of like a sad clown; loose trousers tucked into his pink socks, with an old ratty cap.  He said something, with a frown, then gave me a thumbs up.  Next time he walked by, it was up to two thumbs.  Another similarly disheveled older man with a big beard did the same, but applauded.

My favourite interaction was with a well-dressed man with a pointed beard and tween cap.  He actually looked quite a bit like my late Great Uncle Klaus.  This man is originally from London but now lives in Austria.  He asked me for a song, then secretly suggested I play "Happy Birthday," in case it was someone's birthday in the vicinity.  There were three big tour groups around, so stastically it could have been.  I played it, and this man sang.  All heads turned, and sure enough a man in one group patten another on the shoulder, pretty much implying that it was his birthday.  Ha.  

Despite the glorious scenery, I was quite cold.  I don't have my full winter busking attire, and I was standing in a snowbank.  Occasionally I would lean backwards against the wall of the bridge, and halfway through the set I realized that it was wet.  My fingers were quite cold, and I began making frozen-finger related mistakes.  At one point I goofily wore my big wooly glove-mitten in its fingerless glove format on my right hand only.  My toes were cold, and the elastic on my left foot kept sticking to the ice!  Surely a fascinating science fact in action.  Yes, it was icy and occasionally when I lifted my more-firmly-planted left foot to activate Flaca's arm, I wold slip and have to catch myself.  Both of the elastics got quite wet and left fun patterns on my shoes.  

People were walking by with delicious-looking hot chocolate from the man near me, so finally I slid over to treat myself to a cup.  Mmm!  I played for about two hours total, earning both Crowns and Euros.  I was completely frozen, the back of my dress soaked through, when I packed up, so naturally i went to a traditional Bohemian pub for some mead.  Hit the spot!  I'd better get used to it, though, my trip is far from paid for.  Even though now I am predominantly couchsurfing and my rail pass is valid, I need to keep playing to raise funds.  Let there be mead, or its local equivalent, aplenty!

Puppetry in Prague

Greetings from Prague!  Specifically, "Dobry den" and "Ahoi."  We last left off in Salzburg, the quaint little city where I was able to properly debut Flaca's Flyin' Feet and make some money.  I next went to Vienna, but I did not busk because you need a permit in the city center, and mostly because I couldn't be bothered to try it other places.  Next I crossed the czech border and went to the town of Olomouc.  I thought this would be good for weekend busking, perhaps comparable to Antwerp and Salzburg, non-main-cities in which I did well on my last trip.  It is a gorgeous town and I'm so glad I made the stop, but it is Czech custom to go away for the weekends, so the town was deserted.  So now I am here, voila, in Prague, the destination I have most looked forward to.  After all, this is my third attempt to come here; since I planned to go both in 2009 when I was in Spain and last spring, but it never happened.

And so I arrived, and decided to busk right away.  My bank card arrived safely at home, and it is being turned around and will await my arrival in Berlin.  So for now, I have to live off the money I made in Salzburg, which was starting to run out.  And so I arrived at the station, navigated to the Old Town Square using only a compass (not something I recommend; get a map) and began to look for a pitch.  There were buskers right away, which was a good omen.  One man had a table of glasses filled with water that he played.  This [crazy] guy "danced."  A woman did amazing things with big bubbles.  There was one statue, and a trombone trio, who I asked about permits.  They said they didn't have one, so I was probably good to go.  There wasn't a perfect pitch for me so I indulged myself by following signs to the Charles Bridge, the picturesque spot at which I really wanted to play, a place that would surely be good at dusk, a pitch that even my disapproving Grandmother hinted that she might approve of. 

The bridge is everything I thought it would be.  It is old and cobbled and symmetrical and pretty in its own, and supplemented by statues, views, and sunset lighting.  There were many busker colleages set up, specifically caricature artists.  I proceeded halfway across the bridge, since I need to set up on level ground, and was lucky to see an older gentleman packing up his microphone, amp, etc.  I didn't see what he does.  I indicated inquisitively that I wanted to set up there, and he nodded.  Score!

And so I set up.  I love that people now watch me set up, for however long it takes.  And its taking longer now, since I'm adding string lights, and I had to put the jingles back on Flaca's foot since one fell out.  And figure out how to level the box on the cobblestones.  I had a really big crowd by the time I squeezed my first note!  In general the crowds kept coming, and it was always clear who was watching because it's a bridge, so they can't just peek from around a corner a block away. 

This was such a good feeling.  I felt so good to have crowds, that people couldn't resist stopped, that they clapped, that they tipped.  Frowns turned upside-down, tears stopped, lips met.  Fingers followed the strings, figuring it out, feet tapped along.  And what did I get to look at on the horizon?  Medieval lanterns reflected on a gentle river; a glowing castle; amazing architecture in every direction.  Bliss.  The temperature was perfect, I wasn't worried about anything, and it just felt so good.  Also, it hasn't been dark enough to use the lights since the first night I debuted the setup, and that was very magical: two spotlights on Flaca, and a little string of LED christmas lights on top. 

Who knew a bridge could cause such happiness!  If I get married one day, and get proposed to (which is doubtful since I'm impatient), I really hope it happens on this bridge.  But now that I've made that public it won't really be a surprise if it does, will it. 

After a while a lady with a badge came up and said something in Czech, then asked in English if I have a license.  Nope.  She was super nice though, explaining that you need one for the bridge, but not for xxx and yyy.  Totally friendly and civil.  This city has a lot going for it so far. 

And so I packed up.  It was only 7:00 so I wanted to play more, but first I just wandered through Karlova St., a nice narrow pedestrian street filled with shops and theatres and restaurants.  I found the marionette theatre that puts on daily productions of Don Giovanni with puppets, for which I could not be more excited (someone said it was only in the summer, and I almost canceled the rest of my trip).  I peeked into some of the shops that sell little touristy puppets, since I will definitely be going home with at least one.  Had some ice cream.  Accused the lady of overcharging me, which she didn't.  Oops.  I thought about setting up in the Old Town Square again, but there was a drum group that was quite loud.  So I set up on Celetna, another pedestrian shopping street that isn't quite as quaint, but on my way back to the hostel.  This was better musically because the ground was more level, but of course  not as magical. 

Oh, it's so hard to say "thank you" in Czech mid-song!  The word is "diky," (with accents) but it doesn't come naturally yet, so I either say "thank you," "danke schoen," or just nod.  Most patrons are English-speakers anyway.

I am really looking forward to playing more in this city, a city of puppets and tourists, and getting more familiar with Koruna coins!  In general I am looking forward to this new act and the experiences it will bring me.  Once I get home I'll have to quickly make Flaca a Nutcracker costume (or more realistically a little matching elf costume) in time for our Christmas routine. 

More updates soon on busking here, and a full review of puppet Don Giovanni! 

Nashledanou!

Salzburg 2

I love playing in Salzburg!  People are friendly, children are abundant, and wallets seem to be heavy.  I set up this afternoon after my Sound of Music tour of Salzburg (did you notice in the movie that Gretel keeps getting fatter, because everyone kept giving her cake all through the shooting?) where the human statue had been the previous day.  It seemed like a good pitch, and indeed I wasn't shut down.  I still don't understand my comments in German, but I like to think my pronunciation of "Danke Shöen" improves every time.

Sunday, 14 October, 2012
1. A man talked to me in German, so I said I don't speak it.  He asked a question which was undoubtedly, "What DO you speak?" and I said "English."  "Ahh, England!" he replied.  "Elizabeth!  [German word for Queen?] Elizabeth!" and he did this funny thing to act it out, like puffed out his chest and did a facial expression.  So I mimed a crown to help it out.  He asked, "Salzburg...one day?  Two days?"  "Three days."  "Then Vienna?"  "Then Budapest!"  He told me the people are very good, and mimed tipping.  Said the Swiss are good too.

2.  Another old man (or it might have been the same one, really) got as far as determining I speak English when I asked him if he speaks English.  "A little."  "Or Spanish!"  His response was in German, but undoubtedly meant "even less!"  Funny how intonation can get you so far.

3.  A man left me his phone number :)  Contrary to what I expected, this doesn't actually ever happen.  I said I was leaving, and he said to call him in the morning.  No thanks, but still a good one for the scrapbook.

4.  I don't love my hostel and haven't had great luck on Couch Surfing this time, so I secretly hoped that someone would see me playing and invite me to stay.  One older woman talked to me, with a little bit of English, and asked if I have a place to live.  I sort of didn't even get it, and said I was staying at a hostel.  Oh damn, that was my shot.  Oh well.

5.  One little boy lingered for quite some time, getting more and more involved in the act.  He kept asking me questions, but didn't respond to my "Ich spreche kein Deutsch."  So I felt bad for just smiling and ignoring him.  He saw the lights, which I set up with Flaca even though they can't turn on, and commented "licht!"  Hey, now I know a new word.  I tried miming while saying that when it gets dark I turn the lights on, and an American mother watching encouraged her evidently bilingual daughter to translate for the boy.  He stayed put, despite our language barrier.  I decided to hang up the string lights I got, even though it was light out, and asked him to help, which just meant holding it.  And he said something about my trailer, so I nodded.  It came time to pack up, so I put my accordion down.  He undoubtedly asked if he could play it, so I nodded while I packed up.  Then he wordlessly helped me put stuff in the box, and I let him close the lid and put it on the trailer.  It was really awesome having this non-communicative experience with a little boy in a foreign country.  I guess that's why I do this!

6.  Another little girl lingered for a while and said a lot to me.  I continued just smiling and nodding, but then her dad translated one comment: that I had played the theme to Wallace and Gromit!  Every once in a while Americans will recognize it, but only in weird places like San Francisco or Northampton.  Of course all the Brits recognized it, but I really didn't expect anything playing it in Austria.  Awesome!  This girl also kept trying to speak German for me, and finally her father intervened and told her I don't speak German.  She asked if I speak French, as translated by her dad.  I said no, but that I speak Spanish, which the father relayed.  The girl responded and the father laughed before translating: "She thinks you should speak French...and a little German."  Excellent advice!

7.  Two other adorable kids on bikes stopped for a while, and like went all around my setup figuring it out.  It was time to go, but the dad had a hard time getting the littlest one to come with them.  They tried many times, and finally the older daughter biked back over with the little one's pacifier to lure her away.  Wow, I'm  more entertaining than a pacifyer!

8.  I took a break and walked around (the Mozart birth house was my destination, but they had no where to leave my gear).  I decided to play more, and as I came back to the spot two sort of sketchy guys were sitting nearby.  As I walked by one pointed at me as he talked to his friend, so I gave a polite wave, assumign he had said, "Oh my God, there she is, the puppet accordion lady!!!"  I realized that he could equally have likely pointed out that I had a sack full of coins, and that I'd better watch my back.  Not to make assumptions, but I've never had trouble, and it's bound to kick in sometime.

9.  I try not to gloat about money anymore, as I did in early pre-blog facebook posts about busking, but I msut say that Salzburg is treating me well.  Well, the puppet is treating me well.  I predicted that I'd do better with the puppet, and it's proving to be true.  I think part of if is that my non-puppet gimmick is the student loans sign, so in a place full of non-English speakers, I need a non-verbal gimmick.  This is just so thrilling, since I'm totally out of money.  Especially since I don't have my bank card; I reaaally need to be making money on the road.  Three times I started packing up, then saw I had a crowd waiting, so I kept going.  I'm also feeling like a bit of a celebrity, since a few parties from this morning's tour went by and commented on my celebrity status, and a guy at the hostel just asked, "Is it possible that I saw you busking earlier?"  Yes it is, my friend.

10.  A man came up and said her sister is looking for a musician to play at her "marriage."  It's in Salzburg next June, will I still be here?  I told them maybe!  Hell, maybe I'll go back to Edinburgh for the Fringe and travel all summer before!  Always a nice proposition :)

I'm sure there was so much more, but I didn't write stuff down for whatever reason.  JP, who is, by the way, completely on my black list and never to be trusted again, let alone credited with good ideas, advised me to try to centre my new act around doing a show, not just being a walk-by act.  I'm toying with the idea and seeing if that makes a difference.  I am getting decent crowds, but whenever I stop to fix a foot thing or drink water, they do take it as a cue to leave and tip or not tip and walk away.  So I do want to test doing shows, which would be an epic four-song medley, I guess.  But I don't want to completely piss off vendors and such, so I think i could do two shows.  Maybe The Godfather-Paint it Black-Funiculi Funicula and Vieni Sul Mar-The Final Countdown-La Donna e Mobile.  Those songs seem to be the best.

I do mean to record a proper video demo sometime, but since the first video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crspu63V3aU&noredirect=1  and that's the first day, I've gotten better!) I've added a string on her right hand, which I can yank as I please to flail her hand out.  It's so much fun and looks so silly!  I like doing it and fun times and seeing people's reactions.  You can usually count on somebody to wave their arm as well, confirming that they saw it.  Oh, and everyone taps their feet in solidarity.

Next stop is either Budapest or Vienna.  I want to go to Budapest, but it all comes down to money.  I don't think they're on the Euro, and since I can't withdraw cash I might get into some trouble.  Or just busk right away for local currency!

Off to go do hostel things like look at trains and maybe have some beeeeer.

Salzburg

Saturday, 13 October 2012
Greetings from Österreich!  (Weird keyboard alert!)
So, I didn't really wrap up my time in Edinburgh.  I won't do that now either, so here's the very short version: business slowed down, it started getting cold, I debuted the puppet theatre, it's going well, did my last Saturday market, did my last Stockbridge market, played a child's birthday party, the end.

Then I played one last gig with KAIHO, then hopped on a plane!  And here I am in Salzburg, on the beginning of a trip that will take me through Austria, (Budapest?), (Bratislava?), the Czech Republic, NE Germany, Denmark, Norway, Iceland, then hoooooome.

How am I paying for this trip, after blowing all my savings on being abroad this year?, you may ask.  Well, mandatory busking.  My last trip it was optional, but now I have to do it.  Especially since I accidentallz shipped my bank card home with all my stuff.  Oops.

So today it began.  It was Saturday, so naturally I had to take advantage of the crowds.  It was an especially nice Saturday, too, due to gorgeous weather and a "Bio Fest" that brought families with childrens to the streets of the Altstadt.

Step one was to observe the pitches.  I set out, thinking I'd see a ton of buskers, but I did not.  There were many beggars, though, so of course I wanted to keep my distance and not test how territorial they are.  One woman was setting up on one side of a pedestrian bridge.  She had an accordion, and seemed to be applying face paint of some sort.  I didn't stick around to see it.

I wove through the narrow pedestrian streets of the old town that were certainly full of people (one American tourist came out of a store and grumpily quoted to her party, "No English."  Cringe).  But I wanted to check out the squares.  I saw two buskers near the Alter Markt, a silver statue "playing" a piano held up by a stack of books, and...a puppeteer!  His puppet was dressed like Mozart, I presume, and played a little piano as well.  But not Mozart music; like, pop.

And so I set up in the Alter Markt square on the side of a fountain.  Oh, I should say, all the tourist shops sell piano-key and musical note themed merchandise, so my dress fits in quite well.

This was a success.  I had a lot of people stop to watch, kids wanting to put money in, smiles on old ladies' faces.  One woman sat for a bit and seemed to sketch me.  I've had challenges with Flaca's setup being unlevel, but today it was fine and functioning.  Also, I hadn't played accordion for a while, so I sounded pretty good.  One man, however, who was walking around town with what seemed to be a studded dog's collar in his hand, had a negative comment.  "Laut, laut!" he yelled.  I tried to play a little quieter in case anyone of higher power agreed.  But I wasn't asked to move.

Some women did set up ninety degrees from me at the same fountain collecting signatures for something.  After a while they turned on a recording of Asian-sounding music, which must go with the cause.  

Every once in a while, someone would say something of a decent length, so I'd have to say, "Ich spreche kein Deutsch."  They usually smiled, said more in German, then walked away.  

But one man sort of translated his comment, pointing out that I have 12 buttons.  I nodded, and gave him the universal symbol for "small."  Then he said something about the number 8, which could have been buttons, but then sounded like his small child?  Not sure. 

Another two men, however, followed up, asking, "English?  Romanian?"  I guess the latter are the accordion players they're used to?  I said, "English...or Spanish!"  This other guy heard that and excitedly came over and tipped, complimenting my abillity to speak Spanish, in Spanish.  Knew including that would pay off!  I talked further to these men, confirming that I'm from Scotland (a pasttime in which I can engage once again).  One said, "As long as you say you're from Scotland, people will like you."  I took that to mean Scotland rather than the US, then realized the US hadn't entered this conversation.  Ah...Romania.  Okay.  I saw one of these men again later, after I had changed locations.  He mentioned that the cafe behind me was very good, if you like coffee and cake.  We chatted for a bit, and he invited me for said coffee and cake.  Very nice, but I wasn't quite up for explaining my tendency to avoid caffeine, and generally wasn't super up for smalltalk (I've got a bit of a cold).  But so nice!

As I mentioned, I moved spots.  I took a break in which I walked around the outdoor market and had some food, sampled some delicious cheese, and realized that I really need to practice key phrases in German.  I was going to sit somewhere and study my guidebook to make a plan, but saw that the other puppeteer had packed up.  His spot really was a good one, on a narrow pedestrian street without a lot of shops to annoy.  So I decided to expedite my second set and play a bit longer.  

This was even better, due to the street.  I had decent crowds, which I'm really not used to, and I became aware that I've improved at operating the puppet without sacrificing accordion playing.  I was sure, for the first time since doing the puppet setup, that it was a good thing.  Three students reacted to Paint it Black, and sang along, then came over and immediately started speaking English.  It turns out they're here studying abroad, and from Ohio.  They were pretty helpful discussing sites.  

I sent a few emails on Couch Surfing, and one person replied saying that he had seen me busking, playing "Fur Elise."  Hmm, not sure what song that could have been, but pretty cool!

I was going to squeeze in one more set, maybe around dusk to get the effect of the stagelights, but I was tired.  It was a totally succesful day, though, and the main older man said that Sunday will be even better.  So I'll play for a bit after my Sound of Music tour!

Till next time.