Clun Mill Shropshire

Clun Mill hostel, Shropshire

To the youth hostel at Clun Mill, Shropshire, not for what the grandchildren call a sleepover, but to play for an hour at their summer fete. They did OK: raised £200 – well done Bryony and friends.

As I came to the end of my set, playing by a stand of golden rod covered with bees and hover flies, a pair of red kites flew over. Inspired me to take to the hills and scale the iron-age hill fort after my set.

The view from the summit confirms what I always suspected: this is one of England’s least appreciated, most beautiful counties. (Shame I got lost on the way back and had a 2.5 mile walk along the road with mad car drivers apparently unprepared to share the highway with a pedestrian).   

Sounding off

I signed up to Statford on Avon's Buskers' Charter to play on the streets. Interesting idea: you undertake not to busk with a dog, agree to move on when someone's asked you to go, and promise not to use MAJOR AMPLIFICATION.
Then you'e free to play in the various allocated spots on your Busker's Map.
Didn't work for me, I have to say. I didn't want to cramp the style of Mr Shakespeare doing his Living Statue act. But he wouldn't reply when I whispered: 'Mind if I play down here?'

No, it's Hereford, not Stratford - just thought it looked pretty

So I did a few numbers outside Will's place, but the bag wasn't close enough to the passers-by. Gave up and went to the entrance to the shopping mall: but the shops were mostly empty. So I went for a bracing walk instead where I bumped into one of the buskers, sunning himself on the canal side.
'The Shopping Mall?  I did £75 there yesterday.'
Suffice to say my takings wouldn't have paid for a parking ticket.
Maybe I'm still a bit crap at this busking lark.