So this is the best busker I've seen on this trip:

I know: he looks like he could use a good meal or two, a laundry, and definitely a shower. As I was walking along the Thames, the tide was out (at least I think it was: there was actually a rocky shoreline and this one sandy part that people could walk down to). I stayed on the walkway up above where this guy and the actual river was, as did everyone else watching, but he was down there in the sand, his British flag held down with rocks to catch the coins folks tossed down, and he was creating this:

Every now and then he'd take a break from digging and entertain his guests ... there really was an element of genius here (or, as several other people in the crowd said of him, "He's really very clever, isn't he?"). A whole crowd was gathered around the boardwalk above him, and we just stood watching to see what he'd do next. He had a disappearing hankerchief trick I saw him do a couple of times, and he juggled for a while (though not very well), and then he'd take a swig of his beer and get back to work on his sitting room.
The red box had malted chocolate balls in it, and at one point he said, "I bet you I get twelve smiles from you just for sitting on my sofa to eat some malts." And he sat back in one of his seats, put his feet up on the coffee table, ate a few candies and counted the smiles out loud. I'd put my camera away at that point and by the time I realized I should have had a picture of it, he'd already dropped one in the sand, tossed it over his shoulder, and watched it roll down the beach toward the river. Then he jumped up, drew a line in the sand a few meters away from his sitting room, ran back, and set two chocolate balls rolling, cheering them on until they got to the finish line. The crowd cheered at the end of the race, and when he came back to pick up his shovel, he said, "It's sad how easily amused you people are." And he was right.
I mean, I see it this way: I assume that he probably didn't have a place to sleep last night; he does what one has to do when that's the case and finds or creates someplace to rest. When I get tired, I just keep walking until I get to a bench or a tube station or my bed & breakfast, but he builds a seat out of the sand. I imagine that he might have slept there last night after the sun went down, at least until the tide came in again. But the best part is that while he's doing this thing, he's got a crowd of tourists standing above him, mesmerized by his actions, and tossing money down to him. Of course, he eggs them on a little with his juggling and magic tricks, but the real draw was what he was building -- the crowd didn't get any smaller when he went back to work and ignored us.

The fact that those of us who were relatively clean and well-fed were so fascinated by watching someone create a place to rest his feet definitely offers a commentary on society. I mean, he was just making his spot for the night (maybe he was inviting friends over, too?), having a beer, and eating some chocolate, and I counted at least 12 pounds on his flag when he was only halfway done. I think this guy's a performance artist, and I think there's an essay in this, and I wish already that I had more pictures of what he was up to ...
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