SUNDAY EVENING BUSKERS ANONYMOUS

Giovanni plays amped up. He needs it for the loop and wah pedals he uses. His sounds ring out over Dam Square and I sit on the steps happily, with about fifty others all listening to the layers of sound he creates as he samples himself playing a basic melody line, and then freestyles over the top of it. One guy has his head to his knees in appreciation, and many are certainly using the music to get some of their own quiet time. It's instrumental, beautiful and kind of encourages reflection, if you know what I mean...

It's 8 p.m, Amsterdam on a Sunday night and it certainly has that feel to it; work or school tomorrow for many as they leave to get their dinner, or to settle in and relax with what's left of the weekend. The cobbled pavement is ridden with small puddles from the same rain that washed me away from my busking perch earlier, though I didn't mind - people in Amsterdam have been responsive to my sounds BUT my voice is tired from competing with all the traffic noise in this part of town. Giovanni, however, remains perfectly relaxed as he plays, his music perfectly suiting the cool evening. He even has a 'guest book' that people can write in - I have a read and it's filled with portraits of himself drawn by various listeners, and words from many countries.

People on bikes whizz past, two blonde guys stand about fifty metres apart grooving to the music and alternately waving to each other across the short distance and falling over laughing - they're obviously high. A little boy about 2 years old runs around and around in circles; his parents smile and let him dance his own dance while they enjoy the music. I wonder what I'll do tonight. Sleep sounds like a good option - the simplest of things content me recently, and after another day of wandering these beautiful streets, and playing / listening to good music I'll be happy to call it a day. However, when in Amsterdam you somehow learn to expect the unexpected... a good thing, BECAUSE...

SUNDAY NIGHT SPONTANEITY - IMPROMPTU GIG BY THE OBELISK

...just as Giovanni is packing up his gear, Daniel (Da-Rasta!) of Balaphone fame rocks up and begins to beat out some funky African rhythms for the people of the square. I leave my guitar with him and go to eat, and when I return he's nearly been washed away by one of those huge industrial cleaning machines - the ones that blast anything in sight with water to wash all dirty traces away. We stop to talk, and when his friend Sebastian (a French beatboxer also known as 'Eyes-Full') arrives we decide to do an impromptu gig ourselves! As the water blasters have found another piece of square to attack, the coast seems clear enough anyway...

It's perhaps a strange combination - a human beatboxer, a Balaphone and a guitar that no-one can probably hear as I sing over the top of it. But people begin to gather nonetheless; the sky is darkening and this is just the sort of strange combination of sound that the people of Amsterdam love. Before we know it there are about fifty euro's in the hat and we've only jammed out a few songs, it's great fun even if you can't hear the guitar. Sebastian tries to get everyone up dancing and it almost works - me and him are kind of mobile, grooving around little groups of people while Daniel runs behind him carrying the amp for his mike.. in all the excitement something falls off of it and we lose power. Ah well...

I love the comraderie that small groups of drifters, gathered in to listen to music, can create. After we play we sit and talk to people, eat the chocolate someone gave to Daniel while he busked alone earlier and talk about various things that are going on around the city. When I next look at my clock though its after midnight...ridiculous! And somehow I'm twenty euro's richer than I was a few hours ago, all on account of just having fun. We plan to meet next morning to do yoga in the Vondelpark and go our seperate ways, me back to my hostel dormitory and they to one of many parties, beatboxing and Balaphon-ing their way through the night...

Next morning, I take my mat down to the Vondelpark and await their joyous presence for yoga asanas and then breakfast. Nearby is a mass of blankets that I wonder at, until I realise that it's them! Da-Rasta and Eyes-Full, who laugh and tell me they've been up all night and needed to sleep but also didn't want to miss our meeting, so took their blankets to the Vondelpark to wait for me. Seems yoga is out of the question now, but as it is cold we all somehow squeeze onto my mat for a wee nap before we the grumbling of stomachs forces us to move...

We walk to a market and buy beautiful fresh juice for breakfast, and mill about in the lovely Amster-market. Their eyes are drooping however so we soon say goodbye on the busy street. I see them one last time that night; they are jamming on the streets, this time with a Polish violinist they have met somehow - she is great... As I'm off to Salzburg the following morning, I say goodbye to them for the last time - they are too nocturnal for me and I'm not feeling up for one of their many parties of the evening... not this time, anyway.