On our final day of rocking the rock, we spent the morning (read: late afternoon) being tourists with the great assistance of our dear friend Mr. Ryan Patey of Tumbleweed Entertainment. We visited Fort Amherst, site of the first lighthouse built in Newfoundland, Cape Spear, the easternmost tip of the continent, and Signal Hill, which is historically important for a number of reasons. These things were all rather pretty.
I took pictures!
Ryan and his girlfriend Kira (and Kira’s lovely 4 year old daughter Eveyln) treated us to a scrumptious home cooked meal, and we all had a lovely evening discussing the finer points of Dora the Explorer, Rock Tours, Final Fantasy, and Sailor Moon. It was all rather stupendous.
The time for Rock was once again upon us, and we convened along with all our new Newfoundlander friends for a final night of debauchery at CBTG’s. We were joined this evening by The Mudflowers (an all girl folk rock power trio), The Drunks Rule This Place (a punk band that apparently plays CB’s so often that one of our friends had always assumed that their name was the bar’s slogan, and not a band at all) and the Corroborators from the evening before.
We were set to close out the evening, and as people continued to file in throughout the evening, it was clear that word had spread about our rather singular and intense live show. I can’t decide what was more gratifying: seeing a crew of folks who I now consider friends showing up to watch us play for the third night in a row, or seeing the bar packed near to the brim with a slew of new faces.
The Opening bands all rocked, and then we rocked. It totally rocked, for the record. Hearing multiple voices singing my own words back to me is a pretty damned incredible feeling, especially when it happens so far from home.
After our set (which finished somewhere in the neighbourhood of 3:45 in the morning), Sandy slowly started clearing out the patrons. By quarter after 4, he’d whittled down the remaining crew to nothing but the stalwart staff and regulars. Surrounded by our dearest of New Found Friends, the time had come for an ancient island ritual, the Screech In. I cannot divulge the details, but you can rest assured knowing that both our tongues have now ventured deep into the throat of a Cod.
After we’d had what remained of our sobriety ruthlessly torn away and been inducted as honorary Newfoundlanders, much merriment and revelry took place. We managed to stay so late at CB’s, that by the time we arrived at the doors of Bar None, it was actually closed. This was a shocker to our local entourage (“but the sun is barely even rising!”), but we managed to make the best of things.
Our Newfoundland adventure was a complete success. Beyond our wildest dreams. Thank you so much Steve, DT, Sandy, Newt, Dennis, Ryan, Kira, Kate, Davey, Geoff, and everyone else who made it so amazing. You Newfies have it made.
Can’t wait to return.