Have you ever considered or tried busking? Check out this experience with useful hints and tips on how to make it work, no matter if you are planning to travel to Europe, Asia or around the world.
There are so many ways to travel cheaply and even earn money on the road – sometimes it just takes a little imagination. This week I’m talking to Maria and Ben about their incredible journey busking their way around the world!
If you asked me if I’d ever expected to find myself performing on the very streets where I’d once walked and pitched a handful of change, I’d most certainly say no. But here I am, strapped to a drum and playing with my tattered hat just feet away. The coins in that hat translate to dinner and if at the end of the day there is no money in it, tomorrow I find another town.
I started traveling alone when I was fifteen, using my summers to their fullest. Year after year I despised traveling. Now I live for it. My first four years on the road were financially sound. I had money saved from childhood jobs. About six years ago, that ran out, but my desire to travel did not. My urge to see the world, coupled with college tuition fees, meant I was bankrupt.
I lost my street-performing virginity in Vienna, Austria at the age of nineteen. I had no money but I did have a harmonica. I decided to see what I could do with my instrument, one that I had no idea how to play. I played for a while with no success. And then it happened. An old lady emerged from the chaos of Stephansplatz Road and handed me several schillings. I probably reminded her of her grandchildren and she took pity, but I cared little about her motivation and focused instead on the welcome change. I took the coins and bought a bottle of milk. But those few coins gave me more than a dairy product, they gave me encouragement.
Soon after my harmonica experience, I decided to switch to an instrument I actually knew: the drums. I had played the drums since I was five and was the son of a mother who drummed. I figured carrying a drum set on my back would become tedious so I decided to adapt, in the nomadic sense, and began playing the hand drum, specifically, an African De’Jembe.
How do you start drumming on the street? It’s simple: get a drum, put out a hat or anything to hold coins and start playing. True, the better you play the more money you’ll make. But as the cliche goes, you’ve got to start somewhere. In retrospect, I was terrible when I started, but I made enough for dinner. Now I can earn enough for dinner, wine and a chocolate bar for dessert.
The first place I ever played was Las Ramblas, the famed central avenue of Barcelona, Spain. It was intimidating but fun. I found that if you just do something you enjoy, it means you’ll have fun even if you don’t make much money. I did make a bit of change.
Today, I would never play Las Ramblas. It is overcrowded, and for any single performer, there are too few coins to go around. You learn over time where to find the best places to play and how to “work it” – how to “hustle.”
After playing the Ramblas for a month or two, I knew most of the other performers. There is a social scene among the street performers, complete with romance, differences, friendship and all the drama of any other life. Perhaps more.
I once met a girl named Natalie. She was a fire twirler from Madrid. She looked a bit like a punk with her spiked hair and piercings…really cute. Anyway, she asked me to play drums while she performed with fire. Suddenly my take-home tripled. It was then that I learned that if you want some coin, you really have to perform. If you can eat glass and shove a five-inch nail up your nostril at the same time, then do it.
Upon Natalie’s guidance, I relocated to Ibiza, a Balearic island off Spain, famed for its night life and hippie culture. I was right at home. On the island I lived in a squat, an unoccupied house. It was perfect. I was making money, but I had no overhead, and besides travel, accommodation is the biggest money vacuum…unless, of course, you use drugs, something that has given street performers a bad name. “They’ll just take the money and buy drugs,” many people think. Maybe so, but you’ve got to convince them otherwise. Being personable on the streets is huge. Personality becomes your life source. Have fun with the crowd.
While in Ibiza, I befriended another drummer, Barry Roberts, who was a wicked drummer from England. Having traveled for years with his drum, he became my mentor. Likewise, my off-the-wall personality made me a mentor to his more uptight lifestyle. It was the perfect exchange. Barry and I traveled all over Europe drumming and taking in the sights. For a while I only watched people’s feet. The strangest of things: you’d be surprised how much people’s feet change from country to country.
A travel partner is huge, especially as a busker. I would never bring one from home because I’ve found that if you bring a friend, you end up having one friend. But if you go solo, everyone is your friend. Two people are better than one for hustling. one plays and the other one “hats.” The “hatter” is real magic. Even if your music stinks, a good hatter can make you rich. Hatters are like good beggars, except they’re seen with kinder eyes because they have an act. on the street the performer has the right to sway a pitch. In other words, if a beggar is in a good spot and you want to play there, you can kick them out. There may be a little scuffle but it is a common rule. The hatter can take 50 percent of the action if they’re good enough.
The best hatter I ever worked with was in Galway, Ireland, and was known as Moe, a crazy tattoo-teardrop Scottish bloke, fresh out of prison and totally brilliant. He had a smile and an aura that would bring people from across the street just to put a coin in the hat. “Help,” he’d yell. “Help! I’ve got five wives and 22 kids, three cats and a blind dog. Can you spare a coin?” Moe was good at hatting, but also was a heavy drinker and drank away most of what we earned. That’s life sometimes; you have to know when to move on.
I worked with fire jugglers, dancers, puppeteers, guitarists and even played with an African choir on the alter of a cathedral in Tours, France, during mass. Amazing experiences. But do not be fooled. There are hard days and lots of them. Days when you make no money. Days when the police are glued to you. Days when you question what the heck you’re doing. I read once in a hostel sign-in book in Bam, Iran: “It’s not always fun but it’s always an experience.” I’d like to inscribe those words on a bronze plaque and put them on my mantle, if I had one.
There is a world waiting to be explored. A playground of opportunity and adventure. Countless streets to be busked. So if your only excuse is that you don’t have money, it’s not an excuse. Get out the door, on the road, and like the Rolling Stones song goes, “You may not get what you want, but you’ll find you get what you need,” or something like that.
See you out there. And hey, if we’re traveling in opposite directions, the world is round and we’re bound to meet up somewhere.
