The view across Paris from my busking spot just below the Sacré-Cœur.
Steps leading up to the Sacré-Cœur, Paris - 20th May 2016
I found a wide, flat recess to the side of these steps, plastered myself in sun cream, and began folk fiddling.
Tourists were lined up along a set of railings above me, photographing the breathtaking panorama of the City of Light, then a slither of an Asian man mysteriously appeared from a gap leading into some foliage directly behind me. He came and went twice more, reminding me of a mouse scurrying for food. I swooned with vertigo each time he narrowly missed knocking me flying.
The stench of dog shit assailed my senses and a sweaty, bearded man commented as he descended the steps that I'd got a good view; a 20-something female took my photo with her phone attached to a comically long selfie stick and made a donation, then what on the surface looked like a mother and her little daughter handed me two euros (which paid for the mint-infused couscous I'd just had for dinner).
A blonde kid craned her neck to see what I had in my case, and police in navy Gendarmerie forage caps filed past without saying a word. Eventually I was forced to give way to a mega-amplified guitarist whose talentless racket reverberated around the whole of Montmartre - but not before a toddler who came sliding on his bum towards me down a slope nearly demolished my violin. His Australian father told him off for ruining his "pants."