365 days of beer come to a close

by Tom Johansmeyer on

Two people just finished drinking a hell of a lot of beer. Married couple Chris Nelson and Merideth Canham-Nelson left home in Carmel Valley, CA to hit every major beer destination and festival in the world … in only one year. Ninety breweries and 15 destinations later, they closed out the excursion at the Belgian Kerstbierfestival in December. Along the way, they stopped in Oregon, England, German and (of course) San Diego.

I mean, who doesn’t see “San Diego” and think “beer”?

So, what do you do when a “Year in Beer” comes to a close? Duh, you try to write a book! Until it hits the shelves, if it ever does, you can learn more about these heroes at yearinbeer.com.

[Via USA Today]

Budget Travel: Montreal

by Tom Johansmeyer on


Summary: You don’t have to dash off to Europe to soak in the sights and sounds of a different culture. Montreal is much closer, less expensive and if you’re in a jam, they’ll even break into English for you! Just 45 minutes by plane from New York or Boston, and pretty easy from just about everywhere else in the United States, you’ll have an endless amount of festivals, local attractions and hidden gems just waiting to be discovered.

Don’t let the cold discourage you. Though Montreal is nestled within our northern neighbor’s borders, the temperature in January is a seemingly unreasonable -6 degrees Fahrenheit. Don a coat and hat, though, and it’s manageable. If the empty streets surprise you, step below the surface, and explore the city’s second, underground world à RESO.

As you plan your trip up to Canada, take a close look at what’s going on in Montreal when you plan to head up there. While the basic museums and theaters will always be there, the city has a thriving festival scene that lasts through the winter and rotates quickly all year long. Every time you go, you’re likely to see something different.
Getting in: If you live in the northeast, the flights are easy. Continental has a shuttle to Montreal that can cost below $300. If you’re aiming at Montreal from farther away, Air Canada, Continental, Delta and other airlines fly in regularly. Crossing the Atlantic? You can do so non-stop from London, Paris, Amsterdam and others.

The trip into the city from Pierre Trudeau Airport (it used to be called Dorval) start at around CD$25 and can reach CD$60. Fortunately, you can solve the problem with public transportation. You’ll save plenty of cash to pour into your shot glass when you hit the bars downtown, but it can take close to a half hour to get into the city … and then you still have to get to your hotel.

Once you’re in the city, stick with public transportation. You won’t have to worry about parking, and the subway is clean, fast and efficient. It actually stops where you would want to go. Also, without a car, there’s no need to warm the vehicle up for five minutes before you pull out of your space.

Where to Stay: You have plenty of choices. Skip the newer part of the city, and settle into one of Old Montreal’s stylish boutique hotels. You won’t accumulate any points with the hotel chains you normally call home, but your trip will be unique. If you’re going to Montreal, you have to go native.

There are plenty of hotels within walking distance of just about every attraction in Old Montreal, and downtown is only a subway ride away.

  • Step into Les Passants du Sans Soucy, and you’ll see immediately that you are not in a typical hotel. The lobby doubles as an art gallery, where you can see (and purchase) the work of Canadian artist Jacques Clement. The exposed brick throughout the property heightens the charm, and the dining room is far from institutional. This is a home away from home.
  • The Hotel St-Paul is Montreal’s design attraction. The guestrooms emphasize the property’s commitment to style, and the interlocking bathrobes demonstrate that no detail is too trivial to the staff. I’ve stayed at the Hotel St-Paul, it will be at the top of my list on my next trip north.
  • Tourisme Montreal has plenty of deals at properties across the city right now. Some have rates as low as CD$139 a night and offer a second night at half price. The “Sweet Deal Winter” program makes it clear that the locals know how hard it can be to attract southern neighbors when a warm day is above zero.
  • If you prefer the predictability of a major chain, give up Old Montreal and book a room downtown, where you’ll find major presences by Marriott, Hyatt, Sheraton and other dependable brands.

What to See:

  • Montreal’s art galleries must not be missed. Skip the museums and walk up and down la rue St Paul Ouest. If you like what you see in the window, step inside. Some of the galleries are operated by the artists themselves, so you’ll have a rare opportunity to talk to the creators.
  • When the winter cold is too much for you, step into a subway station. These aren’t mere portals to the city’s public transportation system: they are gateways to a second city that lives beneath the surface when winter strikes with its characteristic ferocity. Enjoy the shops and restaurants that come to life when the world above goes quiet.
  • Get a hot dog – the best dinner under CD$5. The misnamed Pool Hall isn’t home to felt-covered tables any more, but they do have the best dogs in the city. Sound like a local: a hot dog with everything on it is “all dressed.” You’ll find this joint on la rue St Denis, but if you aren’t paying attention, you might miss it. When in doubt, ask one of the natives. They’re helpful.
  • Through the beginning of March, take advantage of the city’s festivals, such as the All-Nighter, Wine and Dine experience and Celebration of Light. If you don’t make it out to Montreal until later in the year, you’ll still find some festival in progress. July (for those who plan ahead) brings both the Fantasia film festival and the Just for Laughs comedy festival.

Stay warm; that’s your first priority. If you choose your stops wisely, Montreal can be a great city at any time of year. Don’t plan to spend too much time along the city’s harbor, but you can follow the locals to the city’s underground city. Brave the cold and enjoy the empty streets, or follow the masses below. Either way, Montreal is the best winter destination that never would have come to mind.

Margaret Mead Film and Video Festival Spans the Globe

by Kelly Amabile on

Want to voyage around the world and back? The offerings at next weekend’s Margaret Mead Film and Video Festival promise to transport viewers to all corners of the globe. Opening night begins with Sleepingwalking Through the Mekong, a rock ‘n’ roll documentary that follows California combo Dengue Fever as they tour Cambodia. The musical journey focuses on the “historical reality of artists under the Khmer Rouge regime.” The three day festival, held at New York’s American Museum of Natural History, includes films about the digital revolution in China, sexuality issues in Iran and the genre of African horror movies. In conjunction with the museum’s new exhibit H2O = Life (that opens today) the festival will showcase several films related to water, including pieces that examine water-related issues in India and Mexico.

Several films explore aspects of cultural tourism: Grito de Piedra (Scream of the Stone) depicts a Bolivian miner and his son, who is a tour guide to the silver mines in Potosi. Once the source of great colonial wealth, these destitute mines have been re-opened as a tourist destination. And Nomadak Tx showcases nomadic peoples around the world, while following the journey of two Basque musicians who play a tandem percussive instrument (the txalaparta) during their travels to remote locales.

If you can’t catch any films next weekend in New York, be sure to check out the festival’s extensive travel schedule. The annual event is the longest-running premiere festival for international non-fiction media in the United States.

Band on the Run: Shelter Valley Folk Festival in Grafton, Ontario

by Ember Swift on

Ember Swift, Canadian musician and touring performer, will be keeping us up-to-date on what it’s like to tour a band throughout North America. Having just arrived back from Beijing where she spent three months (check out her “Canadian in Beijing” series), she offers a musician’s perspective on road life. Enjoy!

The Shelter Valley Folk Festival is only in its fourth year and you’d never know it. It’s one of the smoothest run festivals I have performed at in years. This was our first time there, but I walked onto the site on Friday evening and felt immediately at home.

I’m not sure if it’s the shape of the land, how it lolls uphill in Northumberland County (just south of Grafton, Ontario) and overlooks the huge sparkling body of water to the south: Lake Ontario. Maybe it’s the energy of the festival, which is geared towards community, local suppliers and artists, collective decisions, family. Or, maybe it’s all of the above combined together that draws around the event like an embrace and made my shoulders loosen up and take it in.

Whatever the reasons, it was a breath of fresh country air this Labour Day weekend.

I arrived to my band mates and friends lying in a pile in front of the stage Friday night, their faces lit up by spill of the stage lights, listening to Bill Bourne‘s set (accompanied by Michelle Josef on drums and percussion.) The pile gaped open to allow me to drop myself into it and we all huddled together staring up at the stars to the melodic lilt of Bill’s dancing guitar lines. Everyone was mesmerized and the whole audience seemed to be breathing in time to his tunes.

The next day, I kept running into my fellow artists who I knew weren’t programmed to play that weekend. I had read the schedule but their names weren’t on the performer’s lists. I found out shortly that many artists combine forces and volunteer at this event. It might have something to do with the founder, Aengus Finnan, an artist himself who was the visionary for this festival. And, while it may have been his vision to start with, many artists now share that same vision and lend their energy to prove it; they were doing things like MC’ing the stages, taking tickets, clearing plates in the dining tent, stage managing. That’s testimony right there to the magic in this event. It’s very rare to see musicians volunteering to work events that don’t include their music.

That’s belief in an event’s power.

That’s powerful.

We performed a total of seven times this weekend. Usually, I’d grumble a bit at being programmed so much at a festival. There was only one full concert on Saturday night, but we were playing in several workshops that included two or three songs round-robin style. (If you’re reading this from Australia, this is the “song swap” style of performance.)

What I found instead of pure exhaustion from these additional performances (which has been the case at other festivals at different times in my festival touring career) was an injection of energy from each workshop. We were collaborating with several other artists whose work all aligned beautifully with ours, like complimentary colours of a continuous musical spectrum. We did workshops whose themes were road stories, songwriting, community and collaborations, to name a few. I looked forward to each one and they all delivered that same post-performance grin.

A distinguishing feature of this festival compared to many others is the arts and wellness areas. In the artists’ booths, there were local artists from all different media whose only stipulation for being part of the festival was to provide demonstrations of their work to festival goers. There were people glass-making, painting, carving and paper-making for all to witness and learn from. Those booths were humming all day with onlookers and questions flying. I found it fascinating.

I was peering at the paper-making demonstration when there were suddenly horns blowing, shakers shaking and drums drumming coming down the path. Everyone’s head lifted and turned to see the kids’ parade walking towards us having already walked the circumference of the site and through the backstage as well. Kids were dressed and painted and smiling. Parents were filming. The young ones held onto a rope like the kind they have for preschoolers on walking trips through the city. It created this colourful spine around which the older kids and adult supervisors danced and jumped like the legs of an enormous caterpillar as it snaked its way around the remainder of the festival site.

This plastered a smile on my face as I took in the wellness area just beyond the artists’ booths. The area included talks and demonstrations of various body work. You could attend a shiatsu seminar and follow that up with a talk about sustainable organic gardening, for example, before catching a late afternoon musical workshop and then heading to the food stalls for organic and locally grown food.

All in all, this festival is educational, entertaining and healthy. The backstage area had full recycling drop points including composting and the use of re-usable plates, cutlery and glassware. It was healthy towards all things living, most importantly the Earth which we all can’t live without.

My friend Darlene (performer and volunteer at this festival) makes hula hoops as a side project to her amazing music and she graciously gave me one as a present this weekend. I think the gift may have been inspired by my long hula hoop session with a few eight-year-old girls in the open space to the east of the main stage on Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t stop playing with those hoops and I had to be tugged away when it came time for all of the performers to take to the stage for the finale songs.

Now I have a bright red hula hoop as a memory of this event.

And hopes to return some future year.

Shelter Valley Folk Festival is worth your attendance.

Go!

Band on the Run: Re-United with Lost Guitars (The Precipice of Air Travel)

by Ember Swift on

Ember Swift, Canadian musician and touring performer, will be keeping us up-to-date on what it’s like to tour a band throughout North America. Having just arrived back from Beijing where she spent three months (check out her “Canadian in Beijing” series), she offers a musician’s perspective on road life. Enjoy!

So I got on a flight out of Maui, Hawaii at 9:30pm island time on Friday and arrived in San Francisco at 5:30am PST. A quick transfer to my (already being held) Vancouver flight and I was back in the air and heading towards my band and the next gig…

without my guitars.

What is it with United? I have had more mishaps (re: lost baggage or stolen luggage) with this airline than any other.

[I guess in this case the transfer time was too tight because no one from that Maui flight who arrived in Vancouver got their luggage. But still, the stats are stacked against United and me. Am I alone here?]

What’s worse is that the call center is in India. The attendants speak English and are very polite, but they’re in India! While trying to track y guitars, I needed to give a geography lesson on Canada while giving my delivery address:

“No, it’s a province. Canada doesn’t have states. It’s the province of British Columbia. <pause> No, there’s no zip code. The equivalent is a postal code. <pause> Yes, postal code. There are letters and numbers. It’s…”

And still, they couldn’t locate them. They told me to call back in a few hours and hopefully their computers will have been updated.

I was reunited with my band without my guitars and there was no time to wait for them to (possibly) arrive on the next flight from San Francisco. The gig that night was in Grand Forks, BC, in the interior of the province about six hours east of Vancouver, and so we had to hop in a vehicle and drive on in order to make it there in time for sound check.

This part of British Columbia is truly stunning. It’s hard to stay grumpy in the presence of such majestic beauty. By the time we got to Grand Forks, I was long recovered from my sleepless night of air travel and the anxiety of lost instruments.

Mountains heal.

We were kindly loaned a guitar that worked out perfectly (a hollow body electric the same shape and similar weight to my Gretsch) and I just geared the whole set to suit an electric guitar sound as opposed to an acoustic. We had a great time on stage and were well received by the modest but appreciative audience at The Festival at the Forks.

They put us up that night at a hilltop spa called Ponderosa Pines. Three kilometres up a rocky dirt road and it felt like we were driving into the clouds. There was nothing around except the view and a steep decline. This single lane path (or was it a long driveway?) seemed to be etched into the side of the mountain itself.

Adam, our drummer, said “These are the times people accuse you of exaggerating when you re-tell the story. You just keep saying ‘no, it really was like that’ and no one believes you.” And he’s right. Maybe these pictures I snapped the next morning will give it some credibility.

Back in the car again pointing west again towards Vancouver and we were following a Budget cube van. When it’s brakes came on suddenly ahead and it swerved right, we slowed too, just in time for us both to miss the young black bear that had leapt out of the bushes and struck out across the highway.

Just the night before, while sitting beside a British guy returning from Maui to the U.S. with his family mid-vacation, we spoke about Canada and all the cultural stereotypes of our country. He jokingly said, “Yeah, Canada, aren’t you shaking the black bears off your legs up there?” I laughed and told him that our legs have no room for black bears for all the beavers trying to take us out at the ankles. We both laughed then and I added the truthful statement that it had actually been ages since I’d even seen a black bear.

Not so now.

And I’m happy to report that the little black bear survived the highway.

When we got back to Vancouver, the guitars still had not arrived at the address we’d given. Another call to India and I found out that one guitar was still in San Francisco and the other was in Vancouver and was supposed to have already been delivered.

Now the reports were starting to conflict and I had memories of last year’s “missing” (read: stolen) pedal board that resulted in a $2,000 insurance claimed and a long fight with the airline. Also, this summer Adam’s custom snare drum (also on United Airlines) took two weeks to be returned to him. When my anxiety level started to spiral upwards, I knew it was time to run.

Running is my release of choice.

Forty minutes later, all stress having sweated out my body, I arrived back to where I was staying to a message telling me that both “red bags” (my cases are red, but the attendants rarely referred to them as guitars, much to my concern!) would be delivered that evening between 9 and 12 at night.

Nothing to do but wait. My flight back to Ontario wasn’t until today anyway.

11:48 on the hall clock and I got a call saying that they were just a few minutes away. To my relief, at 11:56 I was greeting the delivery man and my guitars at the doorway of the house we were staying in. Now earlier today, I flew back to Ontario with my (hopefully not-to-traumatized) guitars who haven’t made it out of their cases since Hawaii. I was so hesitant to let them disappear down the conveyor belt yet again!

But I’m here to report a great big sigh of relief.

When I picked them up in Ottawa, I loudly and gregariously thanked the special handling baggage personnel for not losing them. They laughed and responded with a hearty “You’re welcome!” while I was letting out my held breath.

And now I’m home. On the ground. Guitars in hand.

All’s well.

Reunited.