I was massively gutted and decided to cut my losses early. I stormed off home (by the station) in a bit of a sulk at having to re-string my guitar and cutting short what was essentially one of my most productive days of busking since moving there. Literally, one hour later, my phone starts to blow the fuck up with family and friends freaking out and asking if I was at the promenade.
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So a few years back, I lived in Nice (South of France) for a while. As a musician, I would make a bit of extra cash busking, and one day, I figured I’d go and busk at the promenade ‘d’anglais by the sea. It’s usually packed, and it just a generally pleasant place to be. I set up, played a couple of songs, and was doing pretty well and making a decent amount of money. Then suddenly not one, but two of my guitar strings snapped (I even remember I was playing ‘The Scientist’ at the time).