Oh Kanata

Damanta rolls up the 401 to the Port Coquitlam of Ottawa: Kanata, Ontario on August 8th, 2008

This time Matt woke us at 12:30pm asking, "What time is you guy's show in Ottawa? You know it takes five hours to get there, right?" Our show was at 5pm and yes, I knew but I figured I'd wake up around 9am as usual. Unfortunately, I'd slept poorly due to an all night video session happening beside me so I'd put on an eye mask and ear plugs and slept through the morning. With frantic packing and help from Matt we were on the road at 1:30pm.

Of course the dark side of Toronto reared it's ugly head as we tried to escape its clutches: Gridlock on the 401. Seriously. It was a parking lot until Whitby. Now I know Torontonians are gonna write me and say, "That's nothing, I remember this one time..." Save it. I am from Vancouver where we have only one highway and I ride my bike almost exclusively so I never have to use it. I was overwhelmed and consequently had a serious lack of patience for "Left-Lane Larry's" after we finally broke away. Eventually, we managed to get The Beast up to Ludicrous Speed again and got the the bar (only) two hours late. I'd phoned from Kingston to let them know and we agreed to play the allotted time, just later.

It looked like it was going to be a hard drinking suburban crowd that would be more annoyed than buoyed by our performance but we went over really well. Some young guys really got into it and bought t-shirts and CDs and I got into a conversation with a retired teacher whose family was from Ireland. She really enjoyed what we did and it was neat to talk to her and hear about the times when she and her girlfriends would head down to the Irish pub in Ottawa on St. Patrick's day. I think telling the stories did her more good than me listening to them.

After the show, The guys dropped me off at the Ottawa airport where I was to catch a flight to Moncton, NB the next day to attend my sister's Canadian wedding reception in North Rustico, Prince Edward Island. I was excited to take a break from the rigours of the road and see family after the hectic schedule since the drive to Chicago . Elegwen and Jon then had to drive 2 hours through the night to meet Ben, of Tarkin 'fame', in the Mount Royal neighbourhood. When next I'd see them hopefully we'd be playing an early week show in one of Montreal's Irish Pubs.

Chillin' in the T-dot

Damanta rocks "The Center of the Universe" on August 6th and 7th, 2008

Sunlight was streaming into the 23rd floor apartment that Matt had subletted for his summer of recording in Toronto. I got up and couldn't believe the view. His place opened east across Spadina towards the University of Toronto. I could see Varsity Centre nee Varsity Stadium, which I first saw on TV in 1986 when Notre Dame Alumnus Rob Ross caught the winning touchdown in UBC's Vanier Cup win and the CN Tower, which featured in a terrorist plot for the 1995 film "Canadian Bacon", starring John Candy.

I awoke before the rest of the gang and, after doing a load of laundry (oh the glamorous life of a teacher-turned-folk-star), I headed out for some Internet access. As I walked north up Spadina to Bloor Street I was humming "Street Car" by Hayden and at once I was reminded of one of my deepest darkest secrets...I actually like Toronto.

Now, I know all my friends in Vancouver, Quebec, Newfoundland and even the United States will be disappointed in me for admitting this in a public forum but it is true. I would miss the mountains if I lived there (Toronto's deepest dark secret is that it's flatter than Saskatchewan) but I am a city kid at heart and Toronto is the biggest and (achem) one of the better ones.

How can I possibly say this? Well, the population base supports a wider variety of restaurants, bars and entertainment options that I am tempted to sample than anywhere else but Montreal. All the big music acts play there. It has the pro sports that I like to watch and the Hockey and CFL (technically in Hamilton) Hall of Fames. Toronto has Canada's closest approximation of the big AND old buildings that I like about the big eastern US cities. It's airport is connected to everywhere cheaper than anywhere else in Canada and the transportation system is pretty decent with street cars, GO-Trains and the subway.

Sure Toronto has it's gridlock problems and the people there think that their sports teams are way more important to the rest of the country than they really are. And then, there's Scarberia, I mean, achem, Scarborough...but on the whole it's not a bad place.

Bloor Street is near The U(of T) so it has a lot of what I like about the T-dot. The street cars, people on bikes, people on foot, restaurants, bars, cafes etc. The energy of so many different people doing so many different things is really powerful and I had to sit and work on an outdoor patio so I could be a part of it. On the way back to Matt's for an afternoon rehearsal, I stopped in at Honest Ed's to get some Rubbermaid containers to hold all of out CD's, merchandise and camping gear now that it was being carried in a pickup with no canopy instead of a VW Westphalia.

We rehearsed out on the deck in the shade looking over the view I showed you earlier. After touching up a few issues from the Chicago show, we loaded all the gear we needed for the show down to the truck, changed and headed to Fionn MacCool's down on The Esplande for our show. We had arranged to have a local singer, Caitlin Burgess open for us and we were anxious to meet her.


Fionn MacCools has a great atmosphere and a crowded patio. Inside, Caitlin's crowd was ready to folk and our problems sound checking didn't diminish their enthusiasm. She played a great opening set and we convinced her to stick around for a second set so we could enjoy her songs while we were eating. Great stuff.

After the show, we headed up to Bloor street and into the James Joyce where we managed to secure a set the following night by talking to Jonah the manager. We met some new fans at the Joyce who raised some eyebrows us by asking if we'd be having breakfast with them. They meant at an all night dinner down the street but I must admit it was a good opener because we did end up going to the diner with them.

On the way home from blogging and booking and Bloor the next day, I stopped in at one of my favourite Ontario institutions, The Beer Store, where they send your order from the back on wheeled conveyor belt. It was made famous (to non-Ontarians) by the movie Strange Brew when Bob and Doug MacKenzie tried to get a free case of beer:

I picked up some Mill Street Tankhouse Ale but, sadly, I had to pull it off the shelf as apparently only domestic two-fours from the major breweries come down the belt at the Spadina and Bloor location.

Before the show Elegwen headed out to a local bar to try to meet some industry types and Matt went to help his girlfriend move so it was left to John and I to carry all the gear on foot the four blocks to the James Joyce. Fortunately, Jonah didn't want us to play with the drum kit so our gear was limited. We went on at 11:30 and had a pretty good set. They were so impressed at the bar that they wanted to have us back at the end of August. Unfortunately we were already booked in BC for the dates they wanted. Maybe next year.

All in all it was a pretty decent run in The Big Smoke and we were off to the Ottawa area the next day.

Check THIS Out...

Damanta (complete with bass player Matt Roberts!) pick their way "home" to Canada from Chicago, Illinois on August 5, 2008

When we invited Matt down from Toronto to play in Chicago we envisioned driving back up in The Pooka but alas it wasn't to be. We had only our half-ton Beast to get four guys up to the T-dot. Let's just say it was a bit of a challenge squeezing in. There had been talk of Elegwen taking a bus but since we fit in so well(!) the decision was made to suck it up (in?!?) and go as a foursome. (Above: The Fearless Foursome hits the road: l-r Jon(in cab and visible in sunglasses reflection), The author, Matt, Elegwen)

At a light to the highway on ramp a dude came up to the window of the truck like a squeegee boy would in Vancouver but this guy was selling. Selling socks to be precise.

"Yo, Check THIS out!" he said as he clapped his hands together producing a 12 pack of tube socks. "Five Bucks!"

"No, thanks," offered Elegwen trying to stare straight ahead. Determined, our friend turned sideways, clapped his hands together producing two twelve packs.

"Yo, then check THIS out!...Five Bucks!" This continued until the light was about to change and he was holding four packs and I was contemplating not having to wash socks for almost two months. Elegwen swears the guy behind us went for the first pack at $5 per. Sucker.

Weeks later back in Edmonton our friend VW James suggested an image of our man chasing us down the I-90 at 100km/hr in forklift down with a pallet of sucks screaming, "YO, FIVE BUCKS!"

It took forever to clear the residual suburban traffic of Chicago and get to Indiana so we ended up taking a half hour break in an air-conditioned truck stop in Hammond, IN to cool our sticky, sweaty bones. Here, I was awestruck by the abilities of the woman at the counter... She could make change, take orders for fried chicken, run a credit card transaction and supervise the rest of the staff (who were clearly not at her level of multi-tasking!) AT THE SAME TIME.

As a teacher it pains me to consider that North American education systems are not doing their job but the calibre of employee in convenience stores and fast food establishments between Calgary and Chicago had left a bit to be desired. While it is understood that if you are working at one of these places in Alberta it means that you are not actually bright enough to work on the rigs in the Oil Patch, and duly noted that the population density of Montana, North Dakota and rural Minnesota and Wisconsin probably don't yield too much in the way of under-employed rocket scientists and neuro-surgeons, it was still so refreshing to not have to explain why you paid a $5.01 for a $4.76 bill...or wait until the first item you ordered to be delivered before ordering the second...that I was speechless at this marvel of efficiency and human engineering.

After leaving Hammond, we skirted the great state of Indiana on our way around Lake Michigan. I was as close as I'd ever been to the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, IN but we wouldn't be stopping in on this trip. Our next gas stop was in Potterville, Michigan outside of Lansing and Matt couldn't resist the patriotic imagery of the Stars and Stripes in front of a McDonald's. It was almost enough to make you enlist...or hungry for apple pie. Mmmm...pie. (Real, not McDonald's)

With all passengers reading to try and take their minds of the fact that we had never had been this intimate with three other people in our lives we ended up going west on I-96 instead of east I-69. Doh! We righted the ship and we on our way to the Port Huron Border Crossing. Passing through Flint, Michigan on the way, I remarked that although Michael Moore stretched the truth and obscured some facts in "Bowling For Columbine", he wasn't exaggerating about the condition of his hometown--it looked pretty depressing.

In Port Huron, MI we stopped for our last shot of cheap American gasoline and a coffee & pie break at a truck stop restaurant. Suddenly panicking, we realized this was our last chance to try grits before we left the States. Unfortunately, they were not part of the restaurant's all-day breakfast menu. It's for the best in the end as northerners probably can't do them justice anyway. Then Matt tried to pay the seniors' price for his pasta primavera. Gong Show.

You have to pay a toll to cross the bridge to access Canadian customs (Note to State of Michigan, Highways Commissioner--Nice Touch). Approaching the booth, we were a bit nervous about the fact that we had four people in a three seat-belt cab.

"Looks a tight in there," smiled the Customs agent. "Where's everyone from?"

Elegwen, who had all the passports responded, "Three from Vancouver, one from Toronto."

"What's under the tarp?" he said motioning towards the bed of The Beast. When Elegwen told him it was camping gear and musical instruments, the border guard asked how far we were going. When we told him Toronto and he laughed and said with a chuckle, "Well, I hope you make it before one of you explodes! Have a nice night." And with that we were back in our home and native land.

This transaction was remarkable not only for the fact that we were over the legal limit for passengers but also for the fact that none of the passengers reported to be from Alberta and the license plates on the truck were. No questions asked--Oh, Canada.

The ride to Matt's from the border is completely blocked out in my memory by the fact that after 8 hours of being sardined into a truck cab with three other men the combined effects of heat, smell, fatigue and muscle cramping were making me the most miserable I have been in a moving vehicle in a long time. So sadly, there isn't much to say about the darkness, fog and darkness on the 401 and 403 between Sarnia and Toronto, Ontario.

At Matt's place on Spadina, we had to haul almost everything to the elevator and into his apartment because we couldn't leave all our gear under a tarp on the streets of Toronto. This took about five times longer than it needed to as we all had Confused Traveller Fatigue Syndrome*. At last I was sprawled out on my thermarest on Matt's floor and the nightmare was over. Oh how I missed our Volkswagen Van.

*Not a real medical condition