Boxing Day: the 9th Bottle Alley Ukulele Stroll

Bring down your new Christmas musical instruments, hats, jumpers, roller skates, and any leftover Christmas day nosh and grog for a traditional boxing day promenade along Bottle Alley. Expect a medley of summer songs from a tired and emotional Santa!

Late again. Brought flasks of tea and coffee, thinking that there's enough drinking at this time of year without me adding to the pressure.

People were already there. New faces, and new ukuleles, a few Christmas presents. People played in the late afternoon sunlight, and, in a modest way, there was a carnival atmosphere.

There were a lot of people I didn't know at all, as well as old friends who haven't done the stroll before. After an inspection of the new ukes and the usual extended tune up, we led off with a rousing version of House of The Rising Sun. We then promenaded along to Drunken Sailor, as there were so many new ukuleleists. There was some great kazoo playing and singing and we stopped for drinks at the first bay.

Fortunately enough people had had the good sense to bring hip flasks and alcopops along to supplement my teetotalism. There was a nice buzz as people chatted and drank for 10/15 minutes until 3 of us had a little go at YMCA. So often a small group will start a song privately, reminding each other of the chords and then spreads very quickly through the group until everybody is joining in. It's a nice feeling, and a good sound. We started it again and set off along the Alley to it. People joined in with the actions and kazoo'd along the wall.



 It didn't take us all the way to the end so we finished off the last few yards with Iko Iko. A bracing rendition of 500 Miles in the dimly lit final bay brought Bottle Alley Ukulele Stroll Number 9 to an end.

The remarkable thing about this stroll was that not only did I not know a lot of people; I didn't know how they knew about it. And it didn't matter. It felt natural. Everybody behaved as though the Bottle Alley Ukulele Stroll on a dark December night was a perfectly lovely thing to do, nobody asked what it was all about. Or even mentioned it as a thing that needed to have come from an idea, so in a literal sense, it didn't feel contrived. I didn't have to worry about what to do. Even I didn't question what it was all about. It's taken on a life of it's own.