Busking is something I’ve always thought about doing but never quite found the courage to go through with. That was until this summer, when I found myself back in Cambridge for a few weeks. The conditions were perfect: relaxed council regulations, peak tourist season, college accommodation near the city centre, and best of all, almost no one around who would recognise me. If not now, then when? And so, with some trepidation, I made my little sign, emptied my instrument case, applied some sun cream, and set off.

“Lugging my saxophone in circles around a sweltering central Cambridge made me want to quit before I’d even started”

I quickly realised the worst part of the experience wasn’t the music itself, but finding a spot and setting up. Peak times mean lots of tourists carrying loose change, but also lots of other buskers. Lugging my saxophone in circles around a sweltering central Cambridge, with one pop backing track blending into another, made me want to quit before I’d even started. However, I stumbled upon a hidden gem of a pitch between Trinity and John’s, on the pavement opposite the Craft Market — busy, spacious, and always available. Even with a spot secured, setting up can feel awkward, as there’s nothing quite like getting on your knees in public and pulling out a rickety music stand while people stream past, looking confused.

After all that stress, doubt, and frustration, you’re finally ready to play. One thing that makes busking unique is that the people you’re playing for didn’t sign up to listen. My sense of English propriety was screaming at me for imposing my music on the general public. But once I started, I found that people either appreciated the music or totally ignored it—neither of which made me feel like too much of a nuisance. I’d designed my act to work as either a performance or as background ambience. I wanted to request people’s attention, not demand it.

“One thing that makes busking unique is that the people you’re playing for didn’t sign up to listen”

Thankfully, some people did stop to listen. A Cambridge busker’s best friends are tourists, boomers, and families with young children. It was heartwarming to see starry-eyed kids nervously stepping forward to toss in the pound their parents had given them. My favourite interactions, however, were with those who stopped for a chat — even if just to justify taking a quick breather. I could probably estimate the percentage of saxophonists in the general public, given that every single one felt the need to stop and tell me. During one particularly hot and unfruitful session, someone even bought me a lemonade, which was really sweet. My most memorable encounter was with a French woman who told me, “It is such an honour to meet a student of the Cambridge University.” How do you respond to that? Probably not the way I did, blurting out a stilted, “Yes, well, we exist.” Either way, I always appreciated people taking the time to stop, listen, and have a word.

Now for the real question: is the money worth it? When I told friends and family I was planning to busk, the general sentiment — after “wow, you’re brave, I couldn’t do that” — was, “Surely no one carries cash anymore.” I had planned to get a portable card reader, but it wasn’t workable, so I had to stick with cash, worrying that I was about to waste my time. Notably, though, my friends and family aren’t tourists, boomers, or young families, and when I found a good pitch on a busy weekend afternoon, I was earning roughly £25 an hour (though sadly, this wasn’t scalable beyond two hours a day, when the muscles in my mouth would give up). Weekdays were a different story. The low point was a seemingly busy Friday when I gave up after an hour, just £6 richer—less than the £6.99 I gained the next day at the John Lewis Bureau de Change for the crisp $10 bill someone gave me.

Profitable or not, I’m glad I did it. It was tiring and exposed work, but it was gratifying to share the fruits of endless private practice with people outside the concert hall and feel appreciated. I would definitely recommend anyone considering busking to just go for it. The stakes are pretty low once you get past personal insecurities, and with the right act in the right place, you might even fund a few good nights out.