Chapter Three: Strings and things and fine array

At every house-party I have been to back home in Wales, there has always been the horrible moment when someone, always significantly less drunk than everyone else, brings out their guitar. A song or twelve later and the rest of the guests despise the boy (it's always a boy) for thinking that they were simply desperate to hear his rendition of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit', and his girlfriend with the lip-ring (there's always a lip-ring) has to prise the guitar from his cankered hands. And yet, despite the unbreakable association in my mind between guitars and absolute arseholes, I had always envied those who could play. After my first guitar lesson, I'm a small step closer to being that annoying bloke at the house-party.
I met with Celino, 23, from North-East Spain, at his flat in Putney. Having moved to London only ten days before, he was willing to show me some basics in exchange for some English practice, and while I was apprehensive that my online correspondent may turn out to be a seventy year old murderer, I promptly arrived at our well-lit public meeting place with a borrowed guitar.

Luckily for me, Celino (pictured, far right) was as he had described, and an excellent guitar player at that. My initial attempts at producing a sound other than that of nails on a chalkboard were futile, but in less than an hour I was strumming like a cherub on a harp. We went through the chords, practiced going from G to E Minor and C to A minor, and while moving my fingers less than an inch across to another fret took far longer to get used to than I would like to admit, I got there in the end. My recent foray into bowling had left my fingers a bit sore though, so while I somehow managed a somewhat pleasant sound, I should probably avoid the flying trapeze or archery for a while; however will I manage?
There's a stigma, I think, that burdens the instrument to an extent. I'd perceived it as just that little bit less impressive than, say, the violin, the flute, or the piano, perhaps due to the guitar's association with the non-classical as well as its lingering presence at so many parties. After an hour of giving it a try though, as well as observing Celino's excellent musical prowess, it became clear that playing requires no less skill than any other instrument, requiring a speed and dexterity that surprised me. I'm not exactly ready for a band, but my Guitar Hero score is bound to improve. So next time you're at a house-party, and some annoying Welshman removes his guitar from its case, then do come over and say hello.