Artisan laughJacey's Artisan Tour Blog

1st July to 17th September 2010

JUNE

12th Folk For MS, Old Mill Hall, Grove, Nr. Wantage, Oxon

A charity gig for starters. We've supported Folk for MS for almost twenty years and this was our fourth appearance for them (their 21st). It was also our first proper big stage gig for five years, so nerves would have been understandable. Hilary said she had a touch of the collywobbles, but I just felt as though I'd shoved my feet into a really comfortable pair of old slippers. It was great to be back on stage again with Hilary and Brian. It all helped that the sound crew were lovely and very easy to work with and the organisers, Dave, Kate, Pete and Denise are just so good at this sort of thing. A special mention for my old friend, Sarah, who was one of the founding organisers of this event and who now volunteers in the kitchen, making mountainous quantities of chilli (meat and vegetarian) to feed the masses.

I was sorry not to be able to sit and watch the rest of the concert, but we'd asked if we could play before the interval - not at the end of the evening - because Brian and I needed to get back home to make sure my mum had coped all right with the dog (a very bouncy, very big, very friendly German Shepherd 9-month puppy). She had. He'd been on his best behaviour apparently.

13th The Durbervilles Roots Show on BBC Radio Leeds

A live radio broadcast which can be heard on the BBC's Listen Again player for a week after the show's first broadcast. We sang three songs (in 2 separate 10 minute sets) and chatted about the past and the future. 2 of the songs were new ones: 'The Weatherman' and 'Spirit of the Trees' - both written by Brian and both going on to the upcoming new CD. The Durbervilles are fun to work with and it turns out that one of them is the son of Laurie Walsh, a lovely potter Hilary and I used to know many years ago - pre-Artisan - when we did the craft fairs for a living. We'd lost touch and it was great to have news of him - now happily retired.

JULY

1st Cockermouth Kirkgate Centre - Fundraiser for Flood Relief

Artisan tour going well so far. Lots of friends and fans (and friends who are fans and fans who are friends) turning up to gigs. Much hugging (when not singing).

Thursday: Cockermouth flood fund gig at the Kirkgate - a freebie. A nice starter gig for the tour with Bob (who has booked us loads of times for that venue) and Peter who sets everything up. Hilary is still reeling from being charged £4.20 for a pint of diet coke at The Bitter End (brew pub near the venue) when we went for dinner. nice food, but they know how to charge.


2nd Cleckheaton Folk Festival - West Yorkshire

Friday: Cleckheaton Folk Festival - a 'meet Artisan' session in a pub across the road followed by a gig in the Town Hall finishing off the main concert. Nice to see sound-crew Graham Bradshaw and Lawrence again. Graham was engineer at our first ever festival mainstage gig (Wath Festival 1986).

3rd St Mary the Virgin Church, Ross on Wye, Herefordshire

Ginny and SarahSaturday: Concert in the 13th century church in Ross on Wye put on by our friend Sarah Jones who is not only the vicar, but is a great songwriter, guitarist and singer herself (from before her vicaring days - and she still takes a 'holiday' to do one tour per year), Lovely to find an audience from the town who didn't know us at all, but came on Sarah's say-so. Sarah and Ginny did excellent PA for us. Sold our CDs from an old bier rather than a table. It's not the first time we've been 'on the beer' but certainly the first time we've been 'on the bier'. Sarah kind of works on a Sunday, so we stayed with her at the (gorgeous) Rectory and then on Sunday moring went to have breakfast with our mutual friend, Ginny.

 

4th Shammick Abroad, at George Hotel, South Molton, Devon EX36 3AB

Sunday: The George Hotel, South Molton, North Devon. A gig for Tom and Barbara Brown - one of their occasional Shammick Abroad nights. Lovely to see some old friends - some expected and some a surprise appearance. Lots of audience participation. Fabulous gig.

5th Nettlebed, Oxfordshire (The Village Club)

Monday: Nettlebed - a gig in The Village Club for Mike Sanderson. It's a folk club, but a big one and one time recipient of the BBC Folk Awards 'Folk Club of the Year' gong. Everyone joined in choruses and  we had superb feedback, including from Mike who says he rarely sits in the club for every single song because he often has to pop out to do folk club organiser stuff part way through. Tonight he not only stayed for every single song but cut one chap dead who tried to talk to him about organiser stuff during our set. Thanks, Mike. Lovely to see out long time fans (now become friends), known for the longest time to us as 'The Pattersons of Basingstoke' (Tony & Gill). So many familiar faces. I can't put names to all of them but I remember conversations and we seem to take up where we left off - despite the five year gap!

7th Gretton Village Hall, Gretton, Northamptonshire

Lovely to be back in Gretton after so many years. We used to play the folk club there on a regular basis and this Village hall gig was organised by the same chap - Andy Butterworth - with financial aid from Northampronshire Touring Arts. Nice to see so many new (to us) faces in the aufience as well as a few old friends.

8th Maudslay Thursday, Coventry

This is the regular monthly gig organised by Chris Green from the delightful Isambarde - a brilliant trio from Coventry. It's a lovely upstairs pub room venue that looks like it was built for dancing in the art deco area. Impressive barrel ceiling makes the room feel very grand. Nice to see some longstanding Artisan fans there (you know who you are). Chris has booked us a local hotel (thanks Chris) and introduces us to a lovely food pub called The Burnt Post. It's so good we go back for lunch the following day and it's programmed into our satnav.

9th Bromsgrove Folk Festival

What a super little festival. A 200 seater marquee and a lot of people camping there fior the weekend. A very griendly atmosphere. Great, too, to see Terry and Sanda, lately of Tanglefoot, in their new guise as the duo My Sweet Patootie. Thanks for asking us to play, Bob.

10th Birdsedge Village Festival

Our own festival and one for which we're usually behind the scenes. This year we did a bit of both. Hilary's husband ran the Beer Festival (real ale bar). We got in from Bromsgrove at something past two in the morning and by eleven I was in the enquiry tent with my good friend Sarah, who comes up from Hampshire to help out. Brian usually does the PA but they had to hire someone in this year because we were performing - along with the wonderful ZULU - a troupe of South African traditional singers and dancers.

11th Stonehaven Folk Festival

And then at 9.00a.m. on Sunday we were haring off to Manchester Airport to catch a flight up to Aberdeen to play at the Stonehaven Folk Festival. What a delightful place. It's a gorgeous little coastal town and the festival was already in full swing with sessions and our evening concert (with the McCalmans, who are retiring this year, while we're already on our reunion tour). It was a fabulous concert in the Town Hall. The sound and lighting crew of Chris, Simon and Chris did a lovely job.

16th Guisborough Folk at the Cricket Club

What a lot of excellent chorus singers this club has - and in harmony, too. Beautiful! Jacey's old college chum, Chris, and her husband, Charlie, turned up to see us - a lovely surprise. We'd been intending to stay over with the organiser, Tony, but when we worked it out we could get hime again in less than two hours and that meant winning a morning at home on Saturday before setting off for the Georgian Theatre gig.

17th Georgian Theatre Royal, Richmond, N. Yorks

This has to be one of our favourite venues on the planet. Go check out their website if you want to know what it's like. It's the oldest theatre in the UK still in its original form. Built 1788 IIRC by travelling player Samuel Butler, and it still has the original boxes at stage level and the pit (where the audience used to stand, but now they sit on wooden benches). Jim, our favourite stage manager, is practically retired now, but he came down and stage-managed for us and it was lovely to see him again. Everything about this place is special. I urge you to go. See anything. Just experience the place itself.

27th Biddulph Town Hall

We've played Biddulph many times but never the Town hall before. It's a delightful venue. Lovely PA, nice audience. Our warm up act was 'Loud Mouth Women' - a large informal singing group - to call them a choir would sound a bit too formal. They're all out for a good time and a good sing - and sound fabulous. It's a milestone night - our new CD - Random Play - has finally arrived, so it's become an album launch as well..

28th Llantrisant Folk Club, S Wales

This is such a great little gig with an amazing bunch of people who heckle and sing and laugh. There's no stage - there's not even a performing area, but we all squash in and sing out anway. Patti is a brilliant MC. Just the right touch of madness and mayhem. Lovely to see my old college chum, Felix.

AUGUST

4th Fly Out to Canada

US Airways = Useless Airways, They buggered up the outgoing flight completely, or at least the connection at Philadelphia. We flew from Manchester, had possibly the worst food I have ever tried and failed to eat on an airplane and then had a planned 6 hour wait at Philly for a Halifax, Nova Scotia, flight.

So customs and immigration take about an hour - yes even though you are only transiting to Canada you have to collect your bags from the transatlantic flight, complete an American ESTA (electronic immigration form) before flying from the UK and do the whole 'Why are you visiting the United States?' thing, even though you're not actually visiting.

Then after exploring Philadelphia Airport from Terminal A to Terminal F - even with food stops (orange chicken and noodles, yum!) it's barely more than a distraction of two hand a half hours - we end up sitting at our gate for departure to Halifax for a couple of hours waiting for our 9.15 p.m. flight. (I had a book.) So at about 8.45 p.m. they start to check our passports, ready (we assume) for boarding. Then when they're halfway through the line the word filters out that the flight has been cancelled due to a storm at Halifax. There's no announcement as such, but word flies round fast. Go to the customer services desk in the main concourse, the gate staff tell us. We know there's going to be a huge lineup so we grab our carry-on bags (the checked luggage having gone on to the transit belt after the stop at customs) and we sprint. Even with my gammy foot (plantar fasciitis - ouch) we make it ahead of the crowd.

Yes there's apparently a storm at Halifax, they say, even though Philly itself is hot and dry, though very humid (like breathing soup). There's also another flight queuing up with ours - apparently there's also a storm between Philly and San Francisco.

No, they won't pay for overnight accommodation because they don't do that for bad weather, only for delays due to something they are responsible for, but they'll give us a number of a last-minute hotel service with 'the best rates' so we can get our head down for a few hours and they'll rebook us on the ten a.m. flight... err no they won't... it's already full between the clerk checking once, talking to us, and trying to grab us three seats. The best she can do is a 6.15 a.m. flight out to Boston and a connection from Boston to Halifax with barely 45 minutes to change planes (and terminals) at Logan Airport. We are not optimistic about the connection, we've been to Logan before and it was a building site, but the next available flight after that isn't until 6.00 p.m. and we have a 2.00 p.m. gig at Lunenburg Folk Harbour Festival.

So we take the 6.15 a.m. flight and the number for the hotel booking service and then discover that we need 50 cents now for a local call (it was 25 cents last time we were there). So we scrabble for coinage. Luckily Hilary had a couple of American quarters. The best we can do is $69 plus tax for each of two rooms and we catch the steamy hotel shuttle without benefit of luggage. Thankfully I have my (diabetic) medication with me and a clean pair of knickers and socks in my hand luggage, but no change of outer clothes and in the choking, sweaty heat they are rapidly getting not nice to be near.

One bright spot. The hotel has free internet and my skype phone credit is topped up, so I try to call Debs, the transport person from Lunenburg Festival, so that her chap who's supposed to collect us at 11.30 p.m. in Halifax doesn't set off. I'm thwarted. Because of the hour's time difference, my 10.00 p.m. is Nova Scotia's 11.00 p.m. and her cellphone is already switched off. So pickup guy has a wasted journey, two hours drive each way. He actually set out before the flight was cancelled. I leave a message on Deb's phone and on the festival office phone to tell them what's happened and what time we're getting in and hope that there will be someone else to pick us up in the morning.

We check the TV weather channel in the hotel room and we can see the thunderstorm between Philly and San Francisco, but Halifax looks calm. What storm?

The hotel alarm call comes at 4.00 a.m., barely five hours after we've fallen into bed, drugged with exhaustion. We get downstairs in yesterday's clothing to find that some other passenger has kidnapped our booked 4.30 a.m. airport shuttle and gone off at 4.20 telling the manager he was the one who'd booked it. Bloody charming. May all his future flights be delayed. But we grab the next shuttle bus on its return with a family heading for San Francisco and similarly doing an overnight without benefit of checked luggage and get to the airport for 5.00 a.m, which is what we were aiming for anyway. Joy and Bliss. The 6.15 a.m. flight departs on time. Now the staff are telling us it wasn't a storm at Halifax last night, it was fog. Make up your minds, guys. Get your story straight.

Amazingly we make the connection at Logan even though we have to go through yet another set of security gates and I get singled out for one of the new naked photo booth checks (the ones where they basically x-ray your clothes off you). Nice. I can have the pat down if I prefer. No, go ahead, give the staff a good laugh. I don't have to look them in the face afterwards. I don't even let myself wonder whether they have lady peeping toms on the other end of the machine, or not.

So we get to Halifax, a nice little airport, and it's still only 9.30 a.m. even though our watches have gone forward an hour again. We don't need work permits in advance for Canada because we're 'cultural performers' i.e. not playing bar gigs and taking jobs away from Canadian musicians, but we still have to stop off at the immigration office and present our festival contracts to prove the whole not-playing-bar-gigs thing, and to get a temporary work permit stamp to make us all nice and legal. I have all the paperwork. It isn't a problem.

So at the immigration office there are two men (not together) in front of us and one is taking forever. There's only one girl on duty. The passengers who came in on the same flight - who were all last night's cancellees and with whom we have bonded by now - all try and follow us into the lineup. No guys, go ahead, this is only for people who are working in Canada. Bye. Have a nice trip. Half an hour passes and eventually guy number one leaves and guy number two steps froward. Time passes. We can see the arrivals hall. It's completely empty.

The officer who checked our passports and sent us to this lineup, telling us it wouldn't take long, saunters up the corridor and looks surprised. 'You still here?' We shrug. 'Yep.' 'You sure you're not playing bar gigs?' 'Nope.' We know the rules. We're playing Canadian festivals and unlike English festivals, they're dry. He takes our passports, stamps them and says, 'OK, off you go!' We skip off to the baggage hall, grateful for small mercies, and knowing that would never happen in the USA, to find all the other passengers have gone and our three bags - together with one that must belong to the guy still at the immigration desk - piled neatly in a corner.

Now all we have to hope for is that there's someone beyond the barrier with a card saying Artisan on it.

Well, she hasn't got a card but she pounces on us as we exit the baggage hall with that peculiarly North American pronunciation of Artisan which sounds like ARdizn. It's Deb herself. No she didn't get the message, but she figured we'd be arriving around tennish so she came anyway - and the office had called her while she was in transit with our message from last night. She'd almost been about to leave since the last passenger before us had said there was no one still in baggage reclaim. We explained about the immigration log jam. She might need to know that another year.

She's starving and so are we. We stop off at Tim Hortons just outside the airport. Luckily Hilary has had the foresight to change enough Canadian dollars. I haven't because the festival has arranged to pay us in cash at the beginning of the weekend and I reckon nothing to losing money on changing English to Canadian and then Canadian to English at the end of the tour.

It's about an hour and a half to Lunenburg. We eventually arrive 20 minutes before our 2.00 p.m. gig and have to do it in the clothes we've been travelling in for 48 hours. It's blazing hot, unusually humid for Lunenburg (on the Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia), and the gig is outside at the Fisheries Museum without a PA. I tell you, it doesn't matter how tired we are, we are in no danger of falling over because our clothes can now stand up by themselves. Luckily the Artisan fans have turned up to welcome us and we're shredded, but not too shredded to deliver the goods.

As a PS to all this, the chap who did turn up to the airport at 11.30 p.m. to meet the original flight that was supposedly cancelled for a storm said: 'What storm?' So we're left wondering if the airline cancelled the plane and just told us it was a storm to save themselves paying for all our accommodations.

And the kicker is that our travel insurance company will not pay out for the accommodation (even though there was an overnight stay involved) because the delay insurance doesn't kick in unless there's a 12 hour delay. The flight we were due to fly out on was 9.15 p.m. and the flight we did fly out on was 6.15 a.m. the next morning. Bummer.

Lunenburg main concert tent stuffes to overflowing5th - 8th Lunenburg Festival, Nova Scotia

This has to be one of our favourite festivals.

After the Fisheries gig we go and get some food at a little pub just on the edge of town. Fabulous food. I have Lunenburg Scallops, of course, because how can you be in Lunenburg and not have scallops, lightly cooked in garlic butter. Gods, but they're good. Debs laughs and says she feels like she's driving royalty because as we creep through the little town people spot us in the car and wave and mouth Hello Artisan at us and blow kisses. It's amazing. We've always been popular at Lunenburg, (the second time we played here we got a standing ovation as we walked ON to the main stage, before we'd sung a note, but it has been five years. We figured people would have short memories, but they haven't. There are some people who've driven up from Philadelphia to see us, because we're not playing in the States on this trip. Hey, we should have got a lift with them! There are others from close to Bethlehem, PA, who usually see us a Musikfest and have taken the opportunity to try a new festival just because we're here. It's flattering, and also humbling. These people have no idea what a boost they give us. We can't let it go to our collective head, but it's such a great experience.

Linenburg billetThen we're delivered to our lodging, a bit further from the town centre than we'd like, but a lovely 1920s/1930s 'arts and crafts' house with some fabulous original oak panelling and overflowing hanging baskets all around the outside. There's a fabulous view across an inlet from the back deck. Our host, Les, is in the middle of an academic thesis so he smiles and welcomes us and goes back to work. We don't see much of him, but our hostess, Velvet, is welcoming and chatty. They have two small wire-haired dachshund bitches who are very sweet and who bark at us and then roll over to be tickled. It's lovely. I know Brian's missing Diezel dog - one of his big worries about spending three weeks out of the country was leaving my 85 year old mother with a ten-month old alpha German Shepherd to look after. (We offered to put him in kennels, but she wouldn't hear of it. They make 'em tough in Yorkshire!)

We have rooms upstairs. It's what we'd call a dormer bungalow in England, though it's huge and the upstairs has three big guest rooms. We have en-suite bathrooms tucked under the eaves of the house, and the beds are super comfy... only... there's no aircon and the heat in the house rises. Even with the windows open wide (insect screens in place) and the fans blowing a gale, there's not much relief from the brutal heatwave. Hilary's room isn't too bad by the time we fall into bed, but our bedroom gets the full glare of the evening sun and on the Thursday and Friday nights it's practically an oven, even long after dark, though Saturday and Sunday are a little cooler and fresher, thank goodness. Lunenburg is usually fairly fresh because of the sea breeze, so this humidity is unusual, but it's a killer!.

They pay us on Friday morning (yay) which bankrolls us for the tour. Yay!

I have Scallop-Only cakes at the Fishcake Cafe for lunch (over looking the harbour). Delicious, melt-in mouth scallopy goodness! The Friday afternoon gig is right down on the Wharf Stage. One misstep backwards and you're fifteen feet down into the water, so we take care to stay well forward. We've planned the sets so we don't have to repeat too much material over the weekend. Great crowd and we have lots of people coming up and telling us how glad they are we've come out of retirement. The CD stall does good business on our behalf. Though all our other CDs have been to Lunenburg before, Random Play, is brand new and is snapped up again and again. We discover that the eco-friendly cardboard slipcase is not Sharpie-friendly. It's a nightmare to sign. You can just about get a ball-point to stick to the glossy print as long as no one has touched the surface with a humanly-greasy finger first. Need a new miracle pen.

We play all the festival stages over the course of the weekend. We've a workshop (a round-robin concert, really) called 'Lighten Up' with Connie Caldor and others in one of the churches. We choose to do songs that are a lighter way of looking at serious topics. We play the Bandstand - which is nice because it's a free, outdoor concert for the people of the town, as well as for the festival ticket holders. It's lovely that as we start off with Dancing With Words there's a little ripple of spontaneous applause as they recognise the song. I'm used to that (in North America at any rate) for songs like 'Breathing Space' and 'What's the Use of Wings', but not usually for 'Dancing With Words.' They like it. Good!

One slight disappointment. The Opera House which was scruffy, but genuinely Victorian and full of character (and wood-rot and myco-spores, probably), has been renovated. The renovation is kinda sympathetic, but it's still got a way to go. Right now it's got a lot more bare walls than it used to, and it's been opened up more. The sound bounces around without the benefit of plush wallpaper and drapes and worn carpet to tame the echo. It's not so nice to sing in as it used to be and I bet it's nowhere near as easy for the sound man. But the audience is lovely, as usual and the set goes well.

Our mainstage set is Sunday night, not such a good spot for selling CDs (Saturday is a better mainstage showcase), but it's a fabulous audience. The mainstage is in a 1200-seater marquee and it's packed to the gills. We go on last before the interval. A spot we like because it means we can go out front in the break to talk to people. Thankfully the weather has stayed relatively benevolent, with much cooler evenings than Thursday and Friday. Even with the stage lights it's bearable. The PA feels great and it's one of those concerts that just seems to fly all by itself. We have 35 minutes, no encores allowed, and we get the standing ovation again. Good, we're not losing our touch.

And the following morning we pack our bags and get a lift back to the airport for our flight to Toronto. We've booked with Westjet because they're a nice company with staff chosen for their sense of humour - and no more expensive than the other choice which is Air Canada which has sometimes seemed to specialise in grumpy stewardesses. Westjet lives up to its reputation, we end up singing 'Breathing Space' for staff at the check-in desk. The flight is blessedly on time. It's in in-country hop to Toronto, so no customs - which is good because we've now got the leftover CDs (which were shipped in) packed in our bags to take on to the next gigs.

Nigel and ClarisseWe pick up our rental car and arrive at Nigel and Clarisse's house (longtime friends) by sometime shortly before 8.00 to find dinner waiting for us, the beds all made up, and more shipped CDs. It's delightful to see Nigel and Clarisse again. They're both looking well and there's kitchen remodelling to admire. Nigel has great woodworking skills, though he doesn't do so much since nearly taking his finger off in an accident and lately he's become totally absorbed by his outdoor fishpond and indoor aquarium in which he has a small ecosystem snaffled direct from Lake Huron. there are snails, rocks, plants and beetles that dive and rise by adjusting a tiny bubble of air on their bum. And there are tiny-weeny fish that will grow up to be lake-trout. It's better than TV.

Clarisse is - .like me - a Science Fiction and Fantasy reader and there's Bakka - Toronto's specialist SF bookstore - downtown. We make a pilgrimage. I only buy $130's worth of books, but Clarisse beats me hands-down. It's been a while since she went, she says. I buy some authors discovered at random by browsing, such as Ilona Andrews (highly recommended) and Nancy Kress. I buy regularly from Amazon at home, but I can't browse when I order online. Hilary goes off window-shopping while Clarisse and I browse books, then we all indulge in a brief trip to The Eaton Centre at the bottom of Yonge Street. I'd been intending to go to the World's Biggest Bookstore, just nearby, but I've spent so much already that I really can't justify it. Besides, it's horribly humid again and my foot is really giving me grief. I buy a new carry-on size hard-shell suitcase (well I have to have something to carry my books in, don't I?) We get back to Clarisse's and - bless her - she finds me some stretches on the net to work on the plantar fasciitis. We go out for dinner, but my foot is still killing me and I've had so much sun that I feel a bit off-colour. While the others are tucking into steak and all the trimmings or big plates of fish, or BBQ pork, I nibble at a small Caesar Salad. It does me no harm whatsoever to eat lightly. I'm still munching my salad when they all get on to dessert, but never mind. I feel much better for it.

11th Houseconcert, Toronto

Sold out well in advance. Full room. Excruciatingly hot and sticky even with the aircon on. They leave the back door open for a bit of breeze, but unfortunately it lets in a mosquito. I'm A-grade mozzie-bait, and come up in huge purple welts, so every time it comes near me I'm dodging about. We try hard, but energy levels may be a little lower than usual because of the heat. Lovely to see so many friendly faces, though. Our host is David Warren who was the artistic director of Mariposa Festival and gave us our first ever festival gig in Canada back in 1994 when it was briefly on Olympic Island in Toronto. There's Gord from the Flying Cloud, and Steve and Anne, and Eileen who we met on our very first trip over. One lady has driven up from the US and has taken a hotel overnight... just to see us. We are once again humbled.

Nigel and Clarisse come. Nigel brings his new digital video camera and films it all. Hopefully we'll be able to upload it somewhere before too much longer.

Plenty of shopping in Toronto from Zellers, Dollarama and Wally-World (Wal-Mart) to the delightful independent shops and boutiques on Queen East at the Beaches. Brian gets jeans, jeans, jeans and more jeans. I get some new shirts and T-shirty, drapy things plus some sandals and a pair of purple sneakers which fit in the shop but not when I get them back to England. Bummer. Hilary has a field-day in a fabulous little boutiquey shop on Queen, which has lots of floaty, drapey, baggy things in murky colours with asymmetrical hemlines and unusual tucks and shapes. OK, I confess, I buy one, too.

14th Aeolian Hall, London, Ontario

With Steve Ritchie and Al Parrish, lately from Tanglefoot, doing the opening spot for us this is a gig I'd have paid to do. The Aeolian is a privately owned concert hall, a fabulous building that was once London's town hall. We met up with Al and his son Ashton (age 8-ish) for dinner before the show, but Steve couldn't join us because he's recently got a more than full time job doing technical stuff at the radio station in Owen Sound where he does his Thursday night 'Hundred Mile Music Show'. We stay for one night with Bill and Kenna and their granddaughter (and Sheltie dog) and then depart for Steve, Sharon and Connor's house at Chatsworth, just south of Owen Sound. More visiting, more shopping in Owen Sound, and a fascinating trip to Keady market - a huge outdoor cattle-market, farmers' market and general market which takes us 2 hours to walk around, there's so much to see.

18th Houseconcert, Grey Highlands Ontario

An amazing house, seemingly in the middle of nowhere (but not really). It always boggles me when some of Canada's highways are gravel rather than tarmac. I feel as though I'm going up a farm track - but no, they're real roads. Glad we've got directions, though. Apparently if you try and use a satnav it dumps you in the middle of the woods. We're fed royally before the gig and then perform in front of a huge, pointy picture window that looks out across woodlands. The concert is not quite sold out, but lovely all the same with fans who've travelled up from Orangeville and neighbours who don't know us from Adam. A lovely mix. And Gord's there again.

Then there's just one more day to spend with the Ritchies before moving into the Travelodge which is the festival hotel where all the performers stay for Summerfolk Festival at Owen Sound. Unfortunately I bend over to fold a shirt for my suitcase and feel my back go sproing. It's then I discover the delights of Robax (robaxicet) a muscle relaxant combined with various painkillers - in my case ibuprohen. It's not available over the counter in either the USA or the UK, but it's brilliant stuff. It stops my back from spasming in next to no time and lets it fix itself over the next few days. It seems to do Brian's shoulder good, too and even helps my foot. With that and the stretches from Clarisse (and a bit of careful planning) my foot isn't too bad over the course of the festival

20th - 22nd Summerfolk Festival, Owen Sound, Ontario

One of our favourite festivals. It's all contained on one site at Kelso Beach Park in Owen Sound, which fronts on to Georgian Bay, that part of Lake Huron that's like an ear-shape, separated form the main lake by the Bruce Peninsula. We played Summerfolk on our very first trip to Canada, some 16 years ago. Back then the lake came right up to the backstage area where the performers all eat and socialise. Then the lake level dropped and invasive rushes grew up and made the lake invisible from the shore. This year, although the water level in the lake is still low, they've cut the rushes back so you can see the water again. It's a lovely setting, with a purpose-built stage facing a purpose-built amphitheatre which seats approximately 4000 on blankets and lawn chairs on the concentric terraces. As well as being a music festival it's an arts and crafts festival with lots of lovely and unusual goodies to buy.

Artisan onstage at Sumerfolk

We do our big concert on the Friday night at 9.00 p.m. just after it turns fully black. With sound by Steve Darke and his brilliant crew, we know we're in excellent hands. The stage end is handled by volunteers, but experienced ones and all under the competent direction of an experienced (longstanding) stage manager, a technical manager and a monitor engineer on side-stage. Everyone gets their own stage hand to take them on and plug them in and line-check them if necessary. There are no sound-checks for anybody (no exception) and turnaround time is rarely more than 5 minutes (with a 'tweener' on side-stage singing one song to keep the audience warm). If the act needs a drum-kit there's a roll-on platform so the drums can set up backstage behind a curtain. It's all so very smooth and well managed.

Artisan at Summerfolk 2010

We have 35 minutes. Right from the moment we step out on to the main stage we're flying. It's an amazing experience when you have those moments of complete clarity, knowing that you're on top of your game and the audience is with you.

Parishes and RitchiesOn Saturday we get to visit with some old friends. hey, not so old, I hear them say. They are the Parishes and the Richies. Left to right: Al Parrish and Rob Ritchie (Tanglefoot) and Ande Ritchie and Wendy Pearl, their wives.

The rest of the weekend is a mixture of workshops. We have a good time in the harmony workshop, which we host, though quite what we're supposed to sing in the 'pub tunes' workshop, I'm not sure. We shoehorn some songs into it and guess well when we do Neil Young's 'After the Gold Rush'. They love it. Neil Young is a Canadian god. On Sunday we do the Folksingers Without Guitars workshop, which is a gift for us because it means we can do anything from our repertoire.

View from BackstageWe've been asked to sing 'Mary Ellen Carter' - Summerfolk's finishing song - on the finale with Len Wallace, accordionist, left wing activist and singer. We did it in 1994, totally intimidated by having Ariel Rogers there (Stan Rogers' widow) and Al, (Stan's dad), but now Ariel is an old friend. It's lovely to see her again. She's been sick but seems to be well on the way to recovery. Fingers crossed.

We get together with Len to rehearse, and Grit Laskin joins us, playing the distinctive riff that opens the song in the Stan Rogers version, which Grit actually had a hand in creating. (Diddle-iddle-um. Diddle-iddle-um-dum. Diddle-um-dum. Dun-dum-dum, Dum-DUM-dum-dum-dum....) That's settled. Grit's in on it, too, so the five of us are doing the last festival song with all the performers and volunteers on stage with us. We wait backstage for Lennie Gallant to finish his set and then we're up and running. Mose Scarlett sings Goodnight Irene and then we're on: Diddle-iddle-um. Diddle-iddle-um-dum. Diddle-um-dum. Dun-dum-dum, Dum-DUM-dum-dum-dum... and Hilary's into the first verse, good and strong. Good job we can hear her acoustically because with this kind of crowd on stage no one gets monitors. She can hear Grit, Brian and I can hear her. Len must be able to hear Grit, too because he's in there with the accordion and it's wild. The volunteers and performers behind us start stamping, clapping and singing along. Any chance of holding the speed steady is lost, we've got a moster on the loose behind us. They drive us all on until the song's going like an express train, but nobody hits a bum note or fluffs a word. We finish and the crowd goes nuts, then the folks on stage part, and the audience out front parts, and a Highland piper, the same one who's been doing it for 35 years, starts up at the back. Dark Island. He walks steadily off the front of the stage through the crowd and we all follow, doing the shaking hands or high five thing with the audience as we go. It's a WOW moment. One of those memories to treasure.

Coming Home

So on Monday morning we pack our suitcases, go and have one last breakfast at Boots and Blades (3 eggs over-easy, bacon, home-fries and toast) call in to see Sharon and Connor on the way 'home' and head for Nigel and Clarisse's to repack everything for the flight out on Tuesday. There's a modicum of last minute shopping. Hilary can't get those quilted red wellies out of her head, and she's made room in the suitcase. Brian reckons a few more pairs of jeans won't hurt. Then it's packing and weighing and re-packing until the bags don't appear to exceed 50 pounds and we're off to the airport.

And yes, US Airways does it to us again. We're connecting to the Manchester flight in Philadelphia again, but this time we only have an hour and a half. It should be OK. We now know Philadelphia airport pretty well after the six hours we spent hanging around there on the inbound trip. We clear US customs and immigration in Toronto with plenty of time to spare, go and get a drink and a Tim Horton's doughnut (Honey Cruller - highly recommended) and go to the gate. The flight is showing 'on time'. Lovely. It's due out at 5.40 p.m. About 4.50 I go to the loo and glance at the board. Oh, bloody hell, the flight's now showing 30 minutes delay. Bugger! Well there's not much we can do. It still gives us an hour at the other end.

The plane arrives we all board, strap in, settle down and then the pilot announces that because we've missed our timeslot on the runway we may have to wait for clearance to take off. We sit on the bloody runway for another 30 minutes. It's OK, the attendant says. We can do the transfer in 30 minutes. Our connecting flights (it's not just us, of course) have been alerted and they'll (probably) wait. Yeah. Right!

OK, 30 minutes is still possible.

So we're 40 miles out of Philadelphia when we get sent round the block again - in a ruddy great stack, bleeding off time and more time. We eventually land at 8.30 and our Manchester flight leaves at 8.44 from the furthest point in the furthest terminal. We've come in at Terminal F, so we're told to go to Gate 10, take the shuttle bus to Terminal A and then walk the whole length of the terminal to Gate A25. Hilary has to wait for her cabin baggage to be returned to her because it was too big for the overheads on a small plane. My foot's had enough by this time so Brian and I start hoofing it as fast as we can, knowing that Hilary will be a lot faster than I will once she's got her bag. We get to the shuttle bus and start to load. Still no Hilary. The bus moves off. She's missed the first shuttle. We get to Terminal A and start out for Gate 25 which is so far away we can't see it. We're just following signs. They're calling all remaining passengers for our flight, Boarding has officiallyl closed but they're still holding the gate open. I can't walk any faster, but the gate is now in sight. 'Go, run!' I tell Brian. tell them we're here. We're coming. try and keep the gate open.' He shoulders his backpack and trots off. I see he's got to the gate. good. They can hardly close it on him now. I come puffing up to the gate, completely knackered. We both show our passports and they say they're going to have to close te gate. They can't wait for Hilary. Neither Brian nor I make a move for the skybridge. 'She's coming. She's right behind us, on the next shuttle from Terminal F,' we tell them. 'She's a minute or two away at most.' I make a show of needing to get my breath back, but in truth it's only show. Brian steps out into the concourse to see if he can spot her. "I can see her coming," he says. (He can't actually but it delays them until he can.) Miracle of miracles, there she is, haring down the corridor, wheelie bag in tow. They have to wait now.

And they do.

Of course, once we get on the plane we're another half an hour while they load our luggage, but that's OK. I'm honestly resigned to having it follow us on another flight, but they load the bags and away we go.

We've got about a week to get over jet lag and start to answer some of those emails that have been piling up. There's a big box of real mail, too, way more than a week's worth of work. I get some of it done, but not all. Hopefully I can catch up with email on the road... but I'm fated, for the next ten days, to always seem to be in places with no wi-fi.

SEPTEMBER

3rd Cottingham and Middleton Village Hall, (Northants)

A lovely gig in a little village hall in a very pretty part of Northamptonshire. Done completely a cappella with a very nice audience who happily sing along. Afterwards we go and stay with our friends Pete and Denise. Happy birthday, Denise... you should have warned us, we'd have baked a cake.

4th Wallingford Bunkfest

A massive free festival in the town of Wallingford in Oxfordshire. Loads of other performers we know are there, including Cloudstreet, who are on the same concert with us on the Saturday evening, Isambarde, and Zulu Tradition. We do a ticketed concert in the church which is a huge contrast to the boozy field site, but a delightful venue. On the way back to the car park after the gig we have to walk through the pedestrian precinct which is thronged with various people in various stages of inebriation. A huge shaggy bloke staggers towards us in the market place and as he draws level says (slurred voice), "Do you want to fight?" "Oh, if you don't mind, we'd rather not," we replied politely. "Ah, that's boring," he said and staggers off into the night. The hotel they put us in is... tired. It's not in Wallingford itself, but a few miles out of town. It's being looked after by a temporary landlord. I wouldn't be surprised if the last one got fired. The bed is broken, the window is broken and there's mould growing in the bathroom. Yuk. And there's no breakfast. At least the sheets are clean. We're on the road hungry by nine the following morning.

5th Folk on the Moor, Devon

Unfortunately Brian is sick... as in too sick to drive. I'm not fond of long drives but I dutifully do the run from Oxfordshire to (nearly) Plymouth while Brian is zonked out. Hilary and I leave him sleeping in the pub car park for as long as we can but we have to rouse him for the gig, Old Doctor Theatre takes over. I'd guess the audience doesn't know there's anything wrong.

The folks here are great. They seem like old friends. We've played this gig at their previous venues right back to when it was at the Who'd Have Thought it in Milton Coombe. Now it's at Lee Mill, just off the A38, in the basement of a very nice food pub. Great venue, full and happy audience

6th Thorngate Halls, Gosport, Hants (with Shep Woolley)

Oh dear how it rains. It rains and it rains until it looks like we should call Noah's Ark Building Services. We get to the gig despite the stair-rods. Unfortunately we discover afterwards that even when it doesn't rain, Portsmouth people don't go to Gosport. Luckily a few stalwart folks from Southampton turn up which saves this from being a rehearsal. And it's lovely to see Shep again. Thanks for coming, guys. You know who you are. And thanks for the accommodation and the meal, Fran and Jay.

7th St Neots Folk Club

A perfect antidote to yesterday's low audience. The Priory Centre at St Neots is full and they have to bring in extra chairs. Lovely to see Roger and Patti Pitt again - the organisers. They've been booking us for the best part of twenty years. Nice also to see John and Di Rocket and to see (and hear) Bill Prince.

8th Dorking Folk Club

In the lounge of the staff club of a Building Society, which seems a little unlikely, but it works. Tonight is the biggest crowd they've had in there for some time (or maybe for ever). Lovely to see 'Neil the Goblin' again. And it turns out that a lady in the audience is the daughter of Gladys Pell, one of Birdsedge's senior citizens. She hadn't realised when she came to see us, but she puts two and two together from what we say about where we live and comes to chat in the interval.

9th Bungay, Suffolk

Cancelled due to a double-booking cockup on their part, so we spend an extra night with friends in Redhill (thanks Norman and Jackie). With a day off, Jacey and Brian spend the day with daughter G who lives in Twickenham with her husband Ian. They are infanticipating in late October, so it's doubly nice to see both G and the bump!

10th Song Loft, Stony Stratford

As we expect, Matt Armour is very much missed, but it's lovely to see Jane again. The Song Loft committee has stepped in manfully and are keeping the music ringing out. We play the big 'Marquee Suite' downstairs, not the little club room upstairs. Nice room, nice folks, nice PA. And the bonus is that we stay in the hotel, so we only have a few hundred yards to walk to our rooms from the gig. And the following morning Brian finds an army surplus and gadget shop and comes back with a couple of 'foreign legion' hats - i.e. baseball caps with suncreen 'curtains'on the back. Perfect for BB!

11th Donyatt Village Hall, Nr Illminster

David and Wendy and their daughter Fiona put on a fabulous night at the newly refurbished village hall in Donyatt near Illminster. It's not only a concert for us, but it is also a fundraisee for the local children's hospice. We kick some of our fee back into the pot and later get a thank you card. They've raised £1,000. That should put a smile on a few faces. Well done to all.

12th Swanage Festival Dorset

I've never been to Swanage before. We almost don't get there this year... because although we can drive through the town there's nowhere to park... and I mean NOWHERE. The organiser has promised a reserved space at the pub where Hilary is staying, but though there's a gap in the car park, the yard - and car park entrance - is full of an ongoing Morris dance display. After frantically calling the organiser he tells us to drive through the middle of the display. we do (but between dances, of course) feeling like boorish numptys. Then to add insult to injury, the pub is emphatic that Hilary is not booked in. More frantic phone calls ensue. Yes, it's the pub's fault, so Hilary gets her tiny little single room, basically a converted loose-box in the outbuildings (with a bathroom). Brian and I are down the road at another pub, which is very nice... small but perfectly formed. The concert is in the town's church. About 400 people and a nice PA. Great evening.

14th South Yorkshire Folk, Sheffield

This place takes a bit of finding because the building is covered with scaffolding and looks closed, however when we get in there it's an old school room. It gradually fills up. The most people they've ever had in there, they say. We really enjoy ourselves - and it's only 15 miles back to our own beds after the gig. Bonus!

16th Huntingdon Hall, Worcester

Not as many people in as for our Christmas shows, but still a good crowd. It's always a pleasure to play there. We meet up with ex- Birdsedge friends Chris and Tim for dinner, who moved down to the Worcester area maybe eight or ten years ago. We still miss them and it's lovely to see them again.

17th Bromley Cross, Lancs

The last night on the tour. This place is a bugger to find - a cricket club down a lane that's not very noticeable from the main road - but once we get in there it's a little gem of a place. They trusted the Cricket Club's PA, but when we try it out it's truly horrible - very scratchy and tinny - and it's already too late to put up the organiser's rig, so we decide to give it a go without microphones. It's a big room, but - hey - this is the last night of the tour. We've got a bit of space to nurse lost voices. As it turns out we manage better than we expect and the audience is very receptive and supportive. A lovely night to end the tour on.

So we trundle home to put our tonsils back in the box... until next time... whenever that is.

Watch this space.

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