It all started with a letter: The first line read "Dear Ms. Hewson. We are pleased to inform you that your request for financial assistance from the touring grant program of the Canada Council has been approved..." I did a little dance in my front hall. We had the travel money, and the Mahers Bahers were off to play the Winnipeg, Calgary and Vancouver Folk Festivals in July of 2000. We were tickled to death! We packed our suitcases, kissed our kith, kin and pets goodbye, and set out into the unknown. And who were these decrepit...I mean intrepid adventurers? They were elder statesman, Frank Maher (accordion); Rick West (bodhran...but we asked him to go anyway); Christina Smith (a.k.a. "Dewdrop"....cello and fiddle), and meself, Jean Hewson (voice and guitar).

First stop: Winnipeg. Frank, Rick and myself arrived the Thursday before the festival. Dewdrop had to go to Kingston first...she said it was to do some music camp or other, but we figured that she was serving a short sentence for some misdemeanor and was just too embarrassed to tell us. She would join up with us later.

When we arrived in Winnipeg, a lovely young lady by the name of Lisa picked us up at the airport. Frank was feeling a little thirsty and he asked her if she could recommend a place to have a civilized pint. She replied "Well, there are some nice pubs down in the Village", and she dropped us off at a quaint little spot called "The Toad in the Hole". Although I don't drink Guinness, Frank and Rick used their Svengali-like powers of persuasion, and before I knew it, the three of us were downing beautiful, dark creamy pints of the stuff. Frank and Rick were raving; they asserted that it was the best pint that they'd had since they'd been in Ireland last year. A lofty compliment indeed!

That night, there was a huge rainstorm. It rained more in one night than it had all year. Friday morning, we got up and hopped onto the bus that would take us to the folk festival site at Bird's Hill Park. The site was a mess; seas of black, viscous mud were everywhere. To make matters worse, the sun was beating down upon us, poaching what was left of our brains in our skulls in the 33 degree heat. In addition, the pools of water proved to be great breeding tanks for the invincible Winnipeg mosquitos. There were some so big they had "Sealand Helicopters" emblazoned on their sides!

Frank, Rick and I got up for our set. Christina was being picked up at the airport, but there was still no sign of her. I didn't really think she'd make it, but just as we got on stage, she appeared, being chauffeured through the goo by an enthusiastic volunteer in an ATV.

There were some incredible performers at the festival: Eric Bogle, Shooglenifty, Danu. All of us were exhausted from slogging through mud and clouds of mosquitos. The people who got on the bus at the end of the day to go back to the hotel no longer resembled sensible Canadians; they looked more like the lost tribe of the Amazon.

The highlight of the festival was the audience...Winnipeg folk festival had the second-biggest crowd *ever* in attendance, in spite of the poor conditions. They were a brave and hardy bunch who refused to let bugs, mud and daunting heat get in the way of their chance to enjoy some great folk music.

Next stop: Vancouver. Were arrived in this fair city several days before the folk festival as we had some other gigs in the area. We relaxed, we shopped, we had massages *and*, we found a nice Irish bar on Broadway called Culpepper's. Frank and Rick asserted that Culpepper's had the best pint of Guinness that they had tasted since Winnipeg.

The festival itself was pure magic. The site was on Jericho Beach, not far from the university campus where we were staying. We had a wonderful view of the city, the mountains and the ocean. And the weather was just perfect! On Saturday, La Bottine Souriante did the final set of the night. During the last portion of their show, the full moon rose over mainstage and I remember thinking "Oh please...this is so perfect it's almost ridiculous!"

The highlight of the festival was the accordion workshop. Our very own Frank Maher was the host, and he was somewhat perplexed, as he had never hosted anything before. The talent on stage with him was formidable indeed. There was a French Canadian, a gypsy accordionist, and Benny McCarthy from Ireland. Benny was with Danu, and himself and Frank had done a workshop already in Winnipeg, and had become fast friends. Benny was not in the best of shape, as he'd been up all night partying and playing. In fact he'd had only one hour of sleep before the workshop. It certainly didn't affect his chops though. He played a beautiful set of reels with artistry and grace. When he finished, Frank piped into the mike; "Folks that was Benny McCarthy. Amazing! And he played like that with a hangover and arthritis!" Of course, Benny doesn't have arthritis, but he told us after that people were coming up to him all day saying "You're awfully young to have arthritis!" and offering him various remedies!!

The gypsy piano accordion player was next. He played an absolutely *blistering* gypsy tune. When he finished, the audience was slack-jawed in amazement. Frank said "Aw, I was going to play that one next! You guys are stealing all my stuff!" The crowd went up! Not only was Frank a witty and engaging host...he certainly held his own in amongst that crowd of fine players.

Next and last stop for the Mahers Bahers: Calgary. We weren't feeling great when we got there...we'd had a terrible flight with a very hostile charter airline; we were exhausted, and terribly cranky. Of course, we had our priorities straight, though; we sought out a decent pub handy to the hotel. Frank said "I can smell the Guinness. We have to go down this street." Sure enough, Frank's unerring instincts brought us to the door of a pub called "The James Joyce" We all had a pint.....Frank and Rick asserted that it was the best pint they had tasted since Culpepper's in Vancouver. I was starting to discern a pattern......

The festival was great. Danu were there....(they must have thought we were stalking them by this time!) and we also had the pleasure of running into Great Big Sea. There were some big guns at this festival. Ritchie Havens played, as did Natalie McMaster.

The site was at Princes Island Park. Once again, the weather was amazing, and there wasn't a bug to be seen. I think the highlight was definitely the fiddle workshop. There must have been at least one thousand people in the audience. They had shown up to hear Natalie McMaster, but they also got to hear some great French Canadian fiddling, and some Newfoundland tunes as well. Christina and I launched into a set of particulary unusual Rufus Guinchard tunes. When we finished, Natalie McMaster leaned over and asked me "Did you guys write those?" I replied "No, they're Newfoundland traditional tunes." She said "MiGawd, they're incredible. They're so different!"

The variety of styles at the fiddle workshop drove home for me just how diverse our culture is in Canada. At the very end, we jammed by letting each fiddler lead off a tune. Then we all finished up on a couple of tunes together. When the bows finally came off the strings, the audience leaped to their feet screaming. It was incredible.

The next day was a sad one....Frank and Rick left to go home (via Toronto) and myself and Christina flew to the U.K. as we still had five weeks worth of gigs before we would see Newfoundland again. Frank and Rick returned to St. John's a few days later where they unpacked, did some laundry, and visited the Ship Inn. They drank a pint of Guinness, and asserted that it was indeed the best pint they had tasted since Calgary.


- Jean Hewson

[click here for more misadventures of Mahers Bahers]