As I was approaching my 50th birthday, I took stock. With a long-held unrealised ambition – to busk round the world – and a need to do something, well, a bit different, I decided it was now or never for that trip. A round the world busk for charity.
 
It took all of two minutes to work out and went as follows:
1. Leave the house with a fiddle, backpack and completely empty wallet;
2. Go down to the local tube station and start playing Bach;
3. Wait until I’ve enough money to move on.

Jane, my wife, agreed provided I promised to bring her tea in bed for life. Besides it seemed less risky than my other idea which was sailing round Cape Horn. My children gave their permission, as long as I swore not to come back with a beard, any hint of body odour and never to wear socks with my sandals. The dog was too young to know. The cats simply ignored me, as usual, although they couldn’t wait to get me out of the house.

But which charity? Like many of us I had been inspired by the work of organisations like El Sistema in Venezuela and Buskaid in South Africa. Both support music education for children, recognising that learning, and particularly performing, music teaches other skills that are essential for a successful life. I wanted to do something to help teachers start similar projects, in developing countries. Although there are many charities raising funds for existing projects, there wasn’t one dedicated to helping teachers over the first and biggest hurdle: buying instruments and establishing a new project or organisation. Musequality was formed specifically to fill this gap.

Friends happy to see me go
I left my home in Chiswick, west London, on 9th June 2007 armed with a brand new violin made specially for the trip by my friend, Brian Lisus. At Turnham Green tube station I was greeted by a large number of my neighbours who generously gave me just enough cash for a one-way ticket to somewhere very far away. I’ll never forget those smiling faces as they waved me off.
 
However, for the first two weeks I didn’t stray too far, doing a circuit of Europe, sleeping on trains to save money.
 
From someone on a platform to a nobody on a pavement
Busking took a bit of re-adjustment – as I discovered playing on the steps outside the Tonhalle in Zurich to an audience attending a concert by an amateur orchestra. After 20 minutes I’d made two Swiss Francs, four hundred times less than I’d earned last time I played there. Berlin wasn’t much better – €11 in a day – although Leipzig made up for it – €284 in two hours. John MacGregor, who as well as being British Ambassador in Vienna is a very fine pianist, invited me to give a concert at his residence. Five days into the tour and I was already realising what a treat it was to play indoors.

First leg highlights
From Europe I travelled to Africa, to visit the groups that Musequality was thinking of sponsoring. It was inspirational to see at first hand what is already being done for disadvantaged and marginalised children and how relatively little money (in western terms) can do so much more.

After Kampala in Uganda, and Cape Town and Soweto in South Africa, I hopped across the Southern Ocean to Australia. Against my expectations, the Aussies really took to Bach. In Melbourne I sold myself on Ebay (to do a concert in someone’s living room, at least) and in Sydney was treated to a free violin lesson by a passer-by: “You’ve got to hold the notes longer to earn money. You won’t get anything playing short notes like that.” If only Bach had known.

A stopover in Singapore turned out to be longer than expected as I’d not got the necessary visa for India. I diverted to Taipei before coming back to the UK to check if the family still remembered me. And to direct the Burton Bradstock Festival – this was no holiday break.

Second leg
Late August was time to get back on the road. I’d been warned that Hong Kong was busker-hostile and, sure enough, spent the first couple of days being chased around by security guards. After that, however, I found a perfect busking spot, was offered lodging with some wonderful hosts and invited back two weeks later to do two benefit appearances which raised a substantial amount for the charity. Definitely one of the high points of the trip! Security–guard-cat-and-mouse continued in Shanghai. In Beijing I was warned that Tiananmen Square was a non-starter although I did get the fiddle out for a photo.
 
Yoyogi Park in Tokyo, surrounded on all sides by amplified rock bands, was the most surreal busking pitch of the tour. In Seoul I had a standoff with the local constabulary and a bit of a problem getting a haircut – apparently barber’s poles advertise a different kind of service there.
 
After a second stop in Hong Kong, I headed for Buenos Aires via Los Angeles. I was pretty wrecked when I arrived but an invite to a tango recording session, two hours after I arrived, was too good to turn down. I also met another Juritz - a very rare event!

I arrived in Rio after a short stop in Montevideo. The Maze guesthouse, perched at the top of a hillside that is the favela of Catete, is my hot tip of the trip. Have a look at www.jazzrio.com and book yourself in.

I had three days in Venezuela for a lightning tour of El Sistema. I’d heard the Simon Bolivar Orchestra at the BBC Proms in London so was ready to be impressed but, even so, what I saw just blew me away. It is a wonderful organisation involving a quarter of a million Venezuelan children. I had a good look around and was able to get an offer from El Sistema to help Musequality develop projects and provide teacher training.

The final leg was a circuit of North America starting in Miami, over to the west coast, up to Vancouver, across to Toronto, finishing up with Chicago and the east coast. It was a great opportunity to catch up with old friends. I met some wonderful new people, particularly in Boston and in New York where I was plucked off the street (or out of Central Park) by the Arshack family. By now, we were working on the media pretty well round the clock. To be honest, I felt like a rabbit in the headlights and was in danger of running out of steam. There was, however, one landmark moment to lift the spirits. Pairing my socks after doing my last load of laundry – five pairs and three days to go. Cosmic.

The final busk – of this tour, at least
We’d contacted the Prime Minister to see if there was any chance of me finishing up the trip on the steps of 10 Downing Street. Permission came just before I boarded the plane at JFK so on Wednesday, 24th October, four and a half months since I set off, it was straight to Number 10 from Heathrow. I scraped away, Gordon Brown sent down a gratefully received contribution and that was that. Job done.

All the way along, I’d been supported by the team in London – my wife Jane with, for the last nine weeks, project-manager Jo. They were working all hours and relaying messages to me via phone (bill paid by Toshiba) and email. Round the world for me, round the clock for them. Keeping everything charged up was a necessity as well as an obsession. So were internet connections.

The amount of money landing in my fiddle case varied wildly right up until the last day. In one hour, at Stanford University, I made $480; the next day in Santa Monica – $10 in three hours.

I made it to 50 towns and cities in 24 countries and lost track of the number of times I had to be up at 4am to move. I also lost track of the number of meals I was bought. With an average of three hours playing a day I knocked out the E major prelude over 300 times, the Chaconne about 180 times.

What have I learned?
Five lessons:
1. It’s very easy to be marginalised and ignored – don’t assume that people will always appreciate what you have to offer. Ironically, I found outside concert halls, by and large, the worst places to busk.
2. It’s not easy to turn publicity into money.
3. There are a lot of good people out there. I had a fantastic amount of help along the way. I also had no big problems – not mugged once although at times I was walking around with over $1,000 in my fiddle case.
4. Music really can make a difference to peoples’ lives, especially young kids who are trying to find an identity for themselves. Music also kept me sane. No matter how tough a day had been, an hour’s playing always gave me a chance to regroup.
5. And, finally, there’s no place like home and definitely no such thing as a simple idea.