Posted February 13, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
Posted February 13, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
Posted February 13, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
I came back from Aqaba through Wadi Rum and tried to get to Petra from Ma’an. No transport would go there. Apparently the roads were closed.
I teamed up with a bloke in my hotel and we paid enough money to a man with a Peugeot 504 shared taxi for him to agree to take us there. As we left the plains, the view was like this.
There didn’t seem to be enough snow to close the country’s major attraction. Still, a bit further along we found the Minister of Something being interviewed for television about how the freak weather conditions were bringing the country to a standstill.
We were the only tourists to get through that day and the hotels had apparently emptied before the snow. It was a buyer’s market for hotel rooms so I decided to stay. When my companion disappeared in the Peugeot after a few hours, I had the whole enormous, glorious thing to myself. Except for the Bedouin, obviously. They just got on with their normal lives and left me alone.
Posted February 13, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
This was my first job when I moved to Sydney.
It was a noisy place to busk with trains rattling in and ferries revving their diesel engines but the audiences were good. One problem was that I attracted much larger crowds if I sang covers that people recognised. My own brilliant songs were largely ignored. However, singing songs repeatedly is boring. Being the late 1980s, lots of people requested The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 miles). Easy to play, very recognisable but really dull after you’ve played it a few hundred times. So I played around with the words.
My standout memory of this particular job was the stricken face of a poor, innocent American lady who walked past just as I was singing:
…and when I come, yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man that comes all over you.
Oh.
My.
God.
I don’t have any pictures of me busking at Circular Quay but my mates came by while I was playing in The Corso at Manly, took a picture and then pelted me with coins.
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