Last week, while I was travelling in the France-Germany border town of Strasbourg, it looked like all of Germany had landed there for the long Easter weekend. Strolling around the city’s famous landmarks, in the middle of milling crowds, over deteriorating spring weather that alternated between whooshing winds and sudden showers, I spotted an old man playing the trombone. From one day in the front yard of the city’s cathedral to another day in front of pastry shops in its crooked alleyways, he seemed to be omnipresent.
In effect, he seemed to be the sole busker artist in all of Strasbourg, despite his questionable talents at playing the trombone. He rhythmically shook his body and attempted to play earnestly, but his notes were so off key that he sounded like an amateur’s apprentice who had left his music lessons midway. When I exclaimed about his omnipresence, I was asked by the friend who was with me if I’d like to join him in his pursuit.
“If it were me, I’d be arrested under suspicion that I’m illegal in the country,” I responded immediately. Sure, I have a valid resident card to live and work in Germany (and by effect, in all of Europe), but if I sat on the streets and pretended to play music, I would be rounded up in no time. I don’t know if I’m right in making that assumption, but standing out like a grain of ragi in a bowl of polished rice, with skin the colour of a day-old cappuccino that has lost its froth, I’m probably not too far off the mark.
The next day, I read an article – what I thought was way overdue on the subject — analysing the increasing trend of backpackers begging on the streets in Asia to fund their travels. The ‘quit your job to travel the world’ motto is not the flavour of the season any more, but every now and again, there is the odd advice along those lines that’s peddled around as travel gyaan . A popular magazine recently wrote a definitive guide on how to travel the world long-term by interviewing a few people who travel on a low budget or without money. The article went on to sum up one couple’s experience thus: “When they’re not getting free meals at popular restaurants, they pick through garbage bins outside of grocery stores — though they say they’re able to find plenty of food that still has a shelf life.” Some sustainable travel, that.
Though I don’t fancy dumpster diving in NYC on my next trip, somehow I think that such adventures (or survival tactics) are reserved for the privileged Western tourists who are on a break year. With the words ‘potential immigrant’ embossed in invisible golden letters on my passport, the most adventure I will ever endure on overseas travel is while applying for a visa. Speaking of which, they just introduced additional documents in the list while applying for a New Zealand visa with an Indian passport — one needs to get their tax returns certified by a notary.
As for the Strasbourg street musician, I did end up throwing some coins in his hat. There’s something poignant about an old man earnestly playing the trombone to a non-captive audience in biting cold. I only hoped he uses part of his earning to fund his travels.
The writer is an independent journalist who lives in Stuttgart, Germany, and often writes stories that intersect food and travel
