world traveler

clown tom bolton

I traveled throughout Scandinavia during the summers from 1983 to 1995. In 1984 a performer from the Kansalis Finnish circus whom I had met in Spain invited me to do some shows, which in those days were strictly juggling. It took me a week to track down the circus, which had changed its tour dates. I only stayed some days but it was a fun experience. I had done some circus work in the States, poorly paid and literally made to shovel elephant shit 5 minutes after having done a show. If you are not a big name act in the circus, it generally sucks big time.

I imagine Finland is much different today but back then they were still in the shadow of the Soviet Union and it seemed a rather depressing place. Getting off the ferry in Helsinki, coming from Sweden, it looked like a disaster had struck. There were people lying all over the ground. Turns out they were just passed out drunk and it was only 5 pm. Such drunkenness turned out to be pretty normal throughout Scandinavia on a Saturday evening. This is the best time of the week to perform in most European towns since people go out for entertainment. But in Scandinavia it was usually out of control.

Norway was the Scandinavian country I spent the most time in. Here I was doing my Tarzan show in Oslo. I had done comedy-juggling shows for years but my voice was always weak and then suddenly I developed asthma. Since I could no longer reliably speak, I had to develop a silent show. My first attempt was the Tarzan show which only lasted one season. I figured I could still yell and beat my chest and juggling with some wooden looking clubs would fit the character. I planned to have a sound system playing jungle sounds and drumming in the background but I never managed to find the right sounds.

My big gimmick was to use a blow-up love-doll for Jane who to get a dance from I had to impress with great feats of juggling. I thought the idea was good at the time but it never developed very far. To draw a crowd, all I had to do was to slowly blow up Jane and people would stop to see what the hell I was going to do with the doll. People stopped but the atmosphere was never right. Half of the people would be annoyed that I used such a prop at all although it was totally clothed and I never did anything sexual with it. The other half was annoyed because they felt mislead exactly BECAUSE I never did anything sexual. By the next year I had developed a silent clown character, which I have stuck with ever since.

LOTS of performers used to work in Oslo, always bitching about how over-played it was. Yet the south coast of Norway had lot of little towns where one could perform. The next 2 photos are from Risør, a nice little town that held a wooden boat festival, which was on the racing regatta tour. And in Scandinavia, land of the Vikings, sailing old wooden boats is a strong cultural tradition. I was actually hired to perform there and this was one of my first serious paying gigs. I got to go out on one of the races, which was considered an honor. I have no experience in sailing so I spent most of the time trying to keep my head down to avoid a swinging mast-pole from bashing it in.

Rather than going south, many of the performers, almost exclusively non-Norwegians, would hang around until long after the short summer vacation was over. They were waiting for the magic mushrooms to be in season. Apparently this is also an old Viking tradition. They would get zapped out of their skulls and go invade England to rape and pillage. And rather than says "cheers" when toasting a drink, the Scandinavians coincidentally say "skol". It is claimed that the Vikings would lop of the top of their opponents' heads and drink the blood out of their skullcaps to a hearty yell of Skol. Fact or fiction, I don't know but seeing how people there get intoxicated and act crazy, it certainly rings true.

The weather in Norway was freaky. When it was sunny in the north it would be continually pouring rain in the south and vice versa. One summer it was pissing down in Oslo so I decided to go north getting as far as Tromsø above the artic circle. The king had died and I stopped in Trondheim 500 kilometers north for the coronation of the new king. The biggest party in Norway in 40 years and I was the only street performer who showed up. Unfortunately, while I was at the party, someone was breaking into my motor home.

Per capita, Norway had by far the worst junkie problem I have ever seen. In Oslo I would park by the foreign embassies since they were generally under tight surveillance. Elsewhere, one could hardly stop at a red light without a junkie trying to break into your vehicle. I was broken into while parked next to the kings farm, another time at high noon in front of the city hall while inside my motor home and plenty of people looking out a picture window in a crowded bar a couple of meters away. Another time, I was parked near the performing pitch and had taken a girl there to make out while waiting my turn to perform. I had mirrored windows so I got a good look at the junkie trying to break in before I bashed him by opening the door. Bicycles were a big target as well and they used to lock up some of the well-known burglars over Easter weekend to lower the unbelievable number of break-ins since many people in Oslo would traditionally go to their huts on the coast then.

Norway was also super expensive, the only place where they would sell half a cucumber or pepper. It wasn't allowed to import any food that could be grown locally even if that was in a greenhouse. The local wages were so high that imports like bananas would be the cheapest fruits available. I would load up with as much food as possible in Germany where it was much cheaper. I cooked and slept in my motor home so I could save most of the money I made on the street.

Thankfully, the police almost never made any stress in Scandinavia. Other places street performers are often treated like criminals. Once I arrived in Sweden while the European soccer championships were being held there. The police were on the lookout for an expected wave of drugs from the foreign fans. About 8 border police searched my motor home from top to bottom. My juggling props and show things were very curious to them but once I explained their purpose they sent me on my way with wishes of luck on the street and a few tips on towns I might try to perform in.

I contrast this to my one visit to the Edinborough theater festival in Scotland. I flew there from Norway for a week with an on going flight ticket, a pocket full of traveler's checks and no performing things. After a comical hassle but not finding a solid reason to keep me out they let me through with a warning that I had "better not try to do any street shows!" Somehow they couldn't accept that in Norway I had not needed a working visa nor could they understand what business a performer would have to visit during the world biggest theater festival. I have always gotten hassled going through Great Britain but maybe it is just payback for the way American customs treats most young Brits.

I often spent time in Sweden on my way through to Norway. I first went there within a couple of weeks after first arriving in Europe in 1983 to visited a couple of girls I had met early in the year in New Orleans. One was living in Stockholm and had invited me to visit. I went to her place as arranged and around 10 pm she suddenly said that she had to go off for a week to see her grandmother and now I should leave but if I was still in town when she returned I could visit her then. I went into the old town to look around and thought I would catch a late train out of town since I had a month long train pass but I ran into a guy named Viktor who was very friendly and I ended up staying at his place for the next week. He told me many tales of his travels to places like India and was a great inspiration for my own future travels.

I was mistrustful but again contacted the girl and she again said I should come to visit. I left my backpack in a locker in the train station and went to her place. Sure enough, we got along fine but at midnight she suddenly claimed that someone was coming to fix her stove the next morning and it was better if I wasn't there. I went to the train station but found out that it was all locked up until morning. I only had a light jacket on and it was freezing. I saw a bunch of young people who were staying over night in a line to buy some concert tickets when they went on sale the next morning. I put myself in line as well but was shivering. Then the garbage men came around and emptied the public trashcans and replaced the heavy paper trash bags. They were fairly large so I took one and curled up inside, not warm but it helped. A year later I took a ferry from Helsinki to Stockholm. A girl on the ferry invited me home. A few things she said made me question if she was lesbian but I didn't know. When it got late she said I should get undressed and get into her small bed with her. I didn't know what she expected but when I caressed her slightly she freaked out and told me to leave. I never went to Stockholm again.

This is the famous old covered bridge in beautiful Luzern, one of the cities we visited, sometimes with my Aunt and Uncle and sometimes with just one of my cousins. You just jumped on a train and went where you wanted. I have been to Luzern quite a few times since. According to Wikipedia, this bridge is the second most photographed attraction in Switzerland, the Matterhorn being the first. The bridge was originally built in 1365 but burned down a decade or so ago and they replaced it with a copy. And just like the original, the new one is also a haven to thousands of spiders. Seems I am the only one who notices this but Switzerland is simply crawling with spiders! I have no particular fear of them but it is rather creepy.

This is a photo from around 1985 or '86. My French girlfriend was with me at the time and we hiked up to the top of Santis Mountain in rural Appenzellerland, Switzerland. It was not technical but a good days hike non-the-less. The view was spectacular yet one could get a cold beer at the bar on top and ride the cable car back down. Very convenient when you are thirsty and tired but not quite the rugged nature I was used to in the Colorado Rockies.

From my home in Stuttgart, Switzerland is only 2 hours drive away. Also, my good friend and fellow American juggler Steve Goetz married a Swiss acrobat and settled in Zürich for 10 years. I would stop by at least a couple of times a year particularly each August during the Zürich Theater Spektakel which is a well know festival. We only get to pass our hats there and just barely get tolerated by the organizers yet it has become a traditional place for lots of old-timer performers to meet up.

Here I am doing a show in Stuttgart on the Schloßplatz about 2001. I first tried Stuttgart in 1984 and it became a regular place for me to perform. Although it got heavily bombed in WWII it still has quite some beautiful old places left or rebuilt. The local population is known for being tight with their money but it is also one of the most economically well off areas of Germany. Like a friend once commented to me, "when I saw the big Mercedes sign rotating on top of the train station, I knew there was money here". Stuttgart is neither as cosmopolitan as Berlin, Munich or Hamburg nor as hectic but still has a multitude of culture, art and sports.

This is Tübingen, a beautiful University town 40 kilometers south of Stuttgart. While I often worked in Stuttgart on weekends, I used to hang out much more in Tübingen. I also happened to have a couple of relationships with students and met my eventual wife there. Tübingen has the reputation of being a hotbed of liberalism like Berkley. I personally found many of the left-wingers here to be rather naive and unrealistic, full of strong opinions about places they had never been to or things they had never experienced. Still, it was a comfortable place to be and I always had some friends living there.

A year or so after I arrived in Europe in 1983 I bought a VW van. 18 months later after it broke down, I got a Mercedes van which I had for 5 years. Then in 1990 I bought this late model motor home which I kept until mid 2008. I was on the road throughout Europe making shows and my vehicle was my castel. With fuel prices what they are and the difficulties in parking, I decided my current needs don't warrent having such a vehicle anymore but I have many memories having gone throughout Europe for over 17 years in this. The picture is just before I sold it for very little money since it didn't pass the new fine-particle emission laws in Germany, so it wouldn't be allowed in the cities anymore and the taxes skyrocket on it but for me it was a real "magic bus" while I had it.

I have never worked much in Belgium but my favorite place there was Antwerp, which was the scene of the following true story:

Summer of '94 and I'm doing a tour through Belgium. Stop in Antwerp, one of the best cities in the country for street shows. After seeing many possibilities, judge the plaza in front of the big cathedral to be the best pitch. Unfortunately, many other performers have already discovered this fact. One of the regulars, a juggler from Amsterdam, is ready to give it a go. He stands on his chair and commences to shout to the people to gather around. Strange thing is that he is wearing a Walkman and wiggling to the beat. Bored of his own generic show that he needs some music to entertain himself with, or what?

Meanwhile, 15 yards behind him, there is a couple sitting propped against the doors of the cathedral, sucking face oblivious to the show or anything else for that matter. She starts to rub his crotch, glances around, like no problem; it's only mid-day with a million people around. Naturally with some discretion, she proceeds to unzip him and give him a blowjob. Well, Mr. Be-Bop juggler is too out of tune to notice what his intended audience is looking at, nonetheless that it obviously isn't him. He had had a few interested onlookers but suddenly the place was getting packed. Funny though that the entire crowd was behind him. Over here! show time!, juggling, unicycling, the big 8 footer!!! The crowd swells. Suddenly, breaking through their edge is a monk. Or rather a groom-to-be, dressed as a monk, out on the town with his bachelor party buddies. Such dressing up and making nonsense in the street are one of those local pre-wedding traditions.

"What's this?!" cried the intoxicated monk. "Unholy, sexual conduct in front of our Lord's cathedral. This is blasphemy. This is heresy. Repent your evil ways and give the wench to me or you'll burn in the fires of hell for this!!" or so I understood him from my less than perfect knowledge of the local dialect. The crowd loved it. What a frickin' show. And this crowd wasn't cheap. Someone threw the couple a coin, followed by another. It showered money to the tune of a decent hat. By then my own view of the event was blocked. I don't know if she finished him off or got too self-conscious and bailed. The finishing touch to an unbelievable street "show" was when the whole crowd took up the chant in English: "WE WANT MORE, WE WANT MORE!"

Afterwards, I went up to the unlucky juggler who by this time had finally noticed that something was wrong and wisely decided to give up on his crowd draw. Well, who could do a show to top that anyway? "What happened?" he asked, "I kind of wondered when I saw everyone was behind me, so like I decided to stop". RIGHT! Noticing subtleties like that is the forte of a master street performer. Anyway, show time!, juggling, unicycling!, the big 8 footer!!! Such be our European street scene. THE END.

While I was in Kathmandu in 1988, I had met an Austrian woman Uli who was a teacher in Vienna. We were never romantically involved but became good friends and I would visit her on occasion in Austria. Then my Uncle Ham who had once lived in Switzerland for some years took a research position for a couple of years in Vienna. He and my Aunt had taken over the raising of their granddaughter Bridget who was about 9 and arrived knowing little German. I arranged that my Uncle hired Uli to tutor him and Bridget in German.

Uli was shocked when I eventually mentioned that my Uncle had won a Nobel price in medicine for the groundwork of genetic engineering. He later had the idea that the human genome could be mapped much faster than the method that was being used by the US government sponsored team. Craig Ventner was the marketing and organizing guy who spearheaded the alternative project that took the lead in the project. Ventner was always the guy in the news, proclaimed as a genius. Or sometimes the credit was given to the government team, which finally caught on and did a lot of the work by copying the methods of Ventners team. The unsung hero and real brains behind the scene was my Uncle Ham. The photo here is of a building in Vienna designed by the artist Hundertwasser that I was first shown by my friend Uli