He was singing a song that rang out to me. “Little black sheep don’t cry, keep your faith, and hold your head high…” I was just fifteen years old when approached the man sitting at the river’s edge and asked him if I could have a go on his guitar. Robert liked my voice and we began talking. That afternoon the two of us busked in the old town of Solothurn. I did not own an instrument of any kind at the time, so we took turns playing Robert’s guitar. We made what to my eyes seemed like a small fortune. It wasn’t quite enough to buy a second guitar but sufficient to buy a pair of bongos. And so I became Robert’s percussionist. By evening it was clear to me that I had found my destiny. After all what did I have to lose?  I surely wouldn’t miss my violent, alcoholic stepfather. To spontaneously go travelling with a man I didn’t know, who was twenty four years my senior made perfect sense at the time. Besides, I liked Robert. He showed me respect and gave me dignity. We are close friends to this day.

After months of travelling with Robert, I finally saved up enough money to buy my own guitar, and started to earn a living with music. Robert left back to Antwerp and I decided to have a go at making my own life experiences.

3o years on... all across Europe, the story continues