I picked the fellow with the flashiest lights and nicest plastic chairs and paid him twenty cents to let me sing a song. As I waited for my turn to get on the microphone, a small crowd of curious locals gathered around to hear the scruffy-looking tourist belt out a number. I was only halfway through what I thought was quite a moving rendition of ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’ when most of the crowd got up and walked away. By the time I’d finished there were only three people left. One of them, who had only stayed in order to sing, immediately got up and launched into a badly sung, god-awful soppy Russian love song. My choice of song obviously wasn’t anywhere near sickly enough.

I thought I’d try another ‘karaoke set-up’ further down the street when I was robbed by a bunch of incredibly friendly locals. As I was walking down the street, three clean-cut young fellows smiled and said hello as they strolled past. When they discovered that I spoke ‘English’, they all wanted to shake my hand. After a few big hugs and some boisterous high fives they disappeared into the crowd. Oh, and after they’d taken the money out of my pocket. Mind you, when I realised what had happened I was more amused than upset. Their rather elaborate ruse had netted them just over two dollars. The rest of my cash was spread out over the other five pockets of my cargo pants. But, more importantly, they left me with more than enough money so I could pay to sing a few more songs (and scare off a few more locals).

Next week on Brian’s Karaoke World Tour: Sweden