2. There is Music in the Air

Early Bird

It’s always a great feeling to be able to go for a walk early in the morning, with the hopeful anticipation that there will be something new to see or, perhaps, even, to hear. This is exactly what happened to me on a sunny Friday in early November.

I was making my way along the waterfront of Bramble Bay in Sandgate, towards the Shorncliffe Pier, when I first noticed, and then heard, a cyclist fast approaching me. He was playing a mouth organ while riding his bike and he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. He was obviously enjoying himself and he almost bumped into me, appearing not to be too worried about colliding with me or anyone else.

Back in Holland we used to call mouth organs, “mondharmonicas”. Harmonicas were very popular when I was young because they were cheaper to acquire than other musical instruments. I, and many of my friends, had one and most of us were able to play some music quite quickly, provided (in my case anyway) that the tunes were simple, with not too many half-notes.

Harmonicas are not the only musical instruments I have the pleasure of hearing on my morning walks. From time to time I have come across a guitarist, sitting on one of the benches along the way, playing or improvising some music or simply practising his chords. On chilly mornings I have often wondered how he manages to produce such beautiful sounds with what must be very cold hands.

At the bottom end of the pier I once saw someone playing a recorder (I know nothing about flutes but I think this one was a wooden or bamboo instrument).  It had a very deep and warm sound and the person playing it, who stood still at the edge of the water, was very accomplished. I stopped for a while to listen to the haunting melodies which seemed to drift, over a fair distance, to reach me further away on the Pier.

A couple of times I have heard a large group of students from St Patrick’s College playing their bagpipes in front of the pier. St Patrick’s is located close by on the waterfront in Shorncliffe and it’s been wonderful to hear the old Scottish tunes played so close to the Pier. On a few occasions I’ve also listened to an older man and a young girl playing a beautiful medley of well-known tunes together.

The cyclist with his harmonica made me think back to a time, more than 70 years ago, when, as a boy, I had begun to practise playing the acoustic guitar.  I learned some simple chords and, although I never became very good at it, it did give me a lot of pleasure.

Bert, my best friend at the time, also had a guitar and he and I, and another friend, Henk, began to play together. We eventually developed into a “bandje”, a group of young people making music together. We called ourselves the “Zamagis”, a name that I was, at that time, very proud of. The first syllable Za stood for “zang” (song), the ma for mandolin and the gi for “gitaar” (guitar).

Next, my younger sister Ria joined us, playing the ukulele, and the group soon expanded. Anyone who had a musical instrument was welcome to join. There was a girl who played the mandolin, a boy who had a banjo, one who had a trombone, another two girls who joined with their accordions, and then another older boy who played the harmonica.

The whole ensemble was a bit of a mishmash, a bit all over the place, and only a few of us could read music. No one could really sing, although we all did. There was no leader, no minimum standard and no plan for how to develop and improve the group’s performance.  We didn’t worry about any of that! We just had lots of fun.

The  Zamagis

We practised most Saturday nights in Ria and my parents’ “serre” (sunroom). We were also welcome in the homes of the other members of the group. We were told that all of our parents enjoyed it!! Even so, I now realise that it must have been a bit of an ordeal for them to have so many enthusiastic 16-year-old music makers turning their houses upside down on a Saturday night.

The banjo player’s parents were well-to-do and when we were there his mother always offered us delicious cakes and soft drinks, treats we were not used to. Our musical repertoire was wide-ranging.  Bert could whistle the tune “Beautiful Dreamer” on his fingers and he also had a party-trick, clicking two spoons together to the beat of the music. We thought he was a star! Once or twice we even performed in public, for which, would you believe, we were paid!

Some of the most memorable moments in my life have involved music, from my early years with the Zamagis to my experiences today on the waterfront in Sandgate. Walking helps me to enjoy the moment and to remember some of the happy times from long ago. So, I think I will try to keep walking and talking for as long as I can!

May I make a suggestion? Sing a little song to yourself today. It may help to put a smile on your face.

O.P.

Next week’s post will be about old Bombay in India.