A man flew into London on the 11th of November, 2000, on an Austrian Airlines flight with a one-way ticket in his hand, an acoustic western guitar on his back, and £205 in his pocket. His knowledge of English was well below average; one might suggest it wouldn’t even have qualified as poor. He started out as a busker, tirelessly performing at several underground stations, subways, and on countless street corners before he charmed his way into an industrial estate. There, he became responsible for taking bookings and cleaning rehearsal rooms. In return, his keeper arranged with the estate chef to turn a blind eye so he could sleep above Studio 1, which was unlawful and illegal. He didn’t have a bedroom or a bed. He rested his bones in a filthy office, where he slept on an old camping bed until he spotted a futon double mattress on Garratt Lane in Wandsworth, which he took. The facility had no shower, only an outside toilet, used by several shop owners, musicians, labourers, customers, delivery drivers, and staff members.
Three months later, he went for a job interview at a world-famous institute that has its own board of trustees. With a vocabulary of approximately 60 words, he convinced the interviewers that he was the right man for the task and responsibilities.
He kept his head down and his mouth shut, took on all shifts and every overtime offer available, and continued busking during lunchtimes and after work hours. In his free time, when opportunities arose, he took on countless DIY jobs around London.
Between November 2000 and October 2005, he moved accommodation 57 times, paid only £630 in rent, stayed out of trouble and crime, and never slept rough on the streets of London. He offered his body, musical abilities, DIY skills, general knowledge, humour, and soul to people who accommodated him.
During this time, he saved up £90,000 single-handedly, and on the 26th of October, 2005, he moved into his own 4-bedroom end-of-terrace house in Zone 3, North London, England.