Day 3: Busking in Falmouth

Today was my first proper full busking day of Busking LEJOG.

After two days of riding, it felt good to stay in one place, get the piano set up, and spend the day doing what I actually do — playing music in public spaces and seeing what the day brings.

And that is the funny thing about busking. You really never know what the day is going to bring.

When I first set up, I was outside a restaurant that was closed for the day. To me, that seemed like a fairly perfect place to play. No tables to disturb, no customers to block, no one trying to get in and out.

The manager felt differently.

She came out and informed me that I could not play there because she was expecting a large delivery. Now, anyone who has seen me busk for long enough probably knows how I usually handle things like that. I happily let her know that I would be playing right where I was, and if I needed to move to accommodate the delivery, I would.

Eventually, the delivery turned up.

It was a van smaller than the one I call home, and the massive delivery was one hand truck. The delivery driver was more than happy for me to stay exactly where I was.

Next up was a fine gentleman who lived above one of the shops just down from where I was set up. He came over to ask if I was going to be playing all day.

And in that moment, I decided that yes, yes I think playing all day would be a splendid idea.

The weather was beautiful, the high street was historic, and the piano was already there. Why not stay?

Now, he was on his way out for the day, so I am not entirely sure why the duration of my playing was an issue at that particular moment, but it seemed to be. He then asked me if I could turn my amplifier down.

I asked him if he meant the amplifier on my acoustic piano.

Once he realised that maybe what he had said did not quite make sense, and that he was not actually going to be home anyway, he toddled off to get on with his day.

People are wild.

What brings joy to one person seems to bring misery to another. I have thought about that a lot over the years. Why is that? Why does music in the street make one person stop, smile, film, talk, sing, or cry, while another person hears the same thing and decides it has ruined their day?

Sometimes I think much of our beautiful country is quite happy being unhappy.

One of the things I have worked on over the last couple of years is learning how to be happy. Not in a fake way. Not in a pretending-everything-is-fine way. But in the sense of not letting people who see a busker as a nuisance rather than a human being decide how I feel about myself.

I have heard “get a job” more times than I can count.

As if pushing a 150 kg piano out onto a high street and playing in the heat, the cold, the rain, the wind, and everything in between for hours at a time is not work.

Busking is work.

But it is also more than work.

Busking is one of the oldest and simplest ways music reaches people. It takes performance out of theatres, concert halls, ticketed venues, and private rooms, and puts it back in the middle of everyday life. It reminds people that music does not have to be polished, packaged, sold back to them, or kept behind a paywall to matter.

It can happen on a high street.

It can happen beside a harbour.

It can happen in a market square, outside a shop, near a station, or in a town someone only planned to pass through.

That is why busking matters. It keeps music accessible. It keeps public spaces alive. It gives people a reason to pause. It creates moments between strangers who may never speak to each other, but who stand for a few minutes listening to the same song.

Busking should be protected. It should be respected. It should never be rejected.

Today, people did stop. People listened. People smiled. People spoke to me. People threw money into the bucket, and I appreciate every single pound.

Because I know what that means.

It means they enjoyed the music. It means they valued the moment. It means they support what I am doing, not just as a busker, but through the PianoMission as well.

Today felt like the first day of this project where I really got to busk. Not just set off. Not just ride. Not just test the route or prove the setup works. Busk.

And that matters to me.

Because I will not stop until you cannot walk through a town without finding a piano to sit at, learn on, play, entertain with, or simply enjoy. That is what this mission is about. It is about music being within reach. It is about public pianos, public places, and the people who need them more than they may even know.

Tomorrow, I will busk in Falmouth again before we make the winding push towards Truro.

That ride is going to be a different kind of challenge. These may easily be some of the most difficult roads we have travelled so far. There are a couple of hills we already have our eye on, and some banked corners that will need my full attention.

Camber, wind, and a heavy piano can make for some proper “oh shit” moments.

So tomorrow will be music first.

Then we plan, brief, check the route, watch the weather, look at the hills, and get ready for the next push.

For now, I am grateful for Falmouth, grateful for the people who stopped, and grateful for another day where the piano did exactly what I hoped it would do.

It made people feel something.

— James

Day 3 Counter
Falmouth
Miles travelled: 0
Average speed: N/A
Elevation gain: 0 ft
Elevation loss: 0 ft
Towns busked: 1 — Falmouth

Journey Total
Total miles travelled: 46.2
Total towns busked: 4