On the road to Bagshu

Last time I saw this busker and his daughter, the little girl was one of the cutest things I had ever seen. Two years ago she sat playing with her baby brother, but now she has wised up and knows to beat a rhythm with stones when a possible punter appears. Rest assured I didn’t take advantage and I did give them a decent amount for filming - handing it to the girl who wisely tucked it under her leg out of sight.

Although he was playing what sounded like the same tune from two years ago, he also decided to entertain with a rendition of Happy Birthday to You. That particular tune is still under copyright, but I am sure the estate of the two old dears who composed it are not going to chase after a poor musician in northern India. Saying that, I waited for the usual composition before taking the risk of filming.

This particular musician works a patch on the Bagshu Road. For those of you who used to love it, Bagshu has changed a lot over the last seven years. More cafes and trinket stalls have sprung up, and - what I found a real shame - the worn, earth and slate-chip path to the waterfall has now been replaced with an immaculate, slate-tiled pathway. The Café with No Name also seems to be closed, although the chill-out room filled with paintings still remains. At first I was disappointed but then I walked down to the bottom, clambered onto a large rock in the middle of the stream and took my boots off to dip my feet in the cold water. Even in the midday sun I could have sat there for ages, because with the sound of the water, if one ignores the Bingo chips packets and Choco-crunch wrappers that get stuck in the nooks between the rocks, it really can be a little piece of heaven.