I wonder if I will meet ‘my’ guitarman again when in Berlin.

In 2004 (it must have been September because I remember the colours) I sat on a bench close to the Brandenburg Gate when I heard a guy nearby playing his acoustic guitar. I wasn’t in a very good mood that day, but the songs I heard, especially “Norwegian Wood”, cheered me up. After a while it all was good again, thanks to the man with the guitar.

A year later I moved to Berlin and one day I went for a walk (Berlin is a great place for walks, I can tell you). There, close to the Berlin Dome, on a bridge he was again, the man with the guitar, playing tunes like “Stairway to heaven”, “Layla”, etc. It was a chilly winter’s day, the air was freezing cold and the sun hidden behind clouds, but he was standing there, lost in the music he played. He didn’t sing, he just played. I remember that I was cold and generally not very happy at that time, but the guitarman’s music cheered me up and after listening for a while it all was good again. Again.

From then on I occasionally saw the guitarman play somewhere in the city. He would just randomly appear at various places like the Brandenburg Gate, Potsdamer Platz or Unter den Linden. Most of the time I would hear him play before I saw him. It was when I went on a walk that suddenly I heard guitar music. I would look around and there he was. I have to say that the guitarman didn’t look very spectacular, usually he was wrapped up in a warm jacket, scarf and woollen hat. He could have been 20 or 60. If I had met him without his guitar I wouldn’t have recognised him. It was the music, the way how he played, that gave him away.

A year later I left Berlin but once in a while came back – for concerts, friends and for walks. I never heard the guitarman again until March 2009 when I came to Berlin for my birthday. I had been walking around the city all day, looking at buildings, people and whatnot, sat in street cafés and went to a museum. It had already gotten dark and I was getting tired, when, just outside my favourite bookstore, Dussman, I heard someone play “Nothing Else Matters”. It was the guitarman again. Once again I stood there and listened and thought that this moment was one of my best birthday presents ever. After he finished the song I plucked up the courage to talk to him just to say Thank You and that, over the years, he had made me smile many times. Am not sure whether he understood what I was saying but he played me a song for my birthday. Afterwards we said goodbye, I wished him all the best and that was the last time I’ve seen or heard him, although I have been in Berlin a few times since. The guitarman is one of my most vivid and precious Berlin memories. I would really like to hear him play again.

Maybe this time.