Timber Timbre and Great Lake Swimmers @ Theatre Plaza St-Hubert - June 20th

Posted on June 21, 2009

It’s been a while since I’ve last attended a show in Montreal and since I’ve been ill since I’ve returned from Europe, last night it was twice as great to celebrate my official return to my beloved city by seeing one of my current favorite bands play in such a great venue. I speak of course about the mysterious and fabulous Timber Timbre, who has recently re-released his latest eponymous record with Arts & Crafts. It didn’t take too long after the original release of the album for the notorious Canadian Indie label to notice this chap, and with good reason: it’s simply brilliant.

The two previous times I’ve seen him play the leading man was accompanied by a slide guitar and a violin, but this time around he replaced the violinist with a saxophone player, which was and interesting and original decision. Personally, I preferred the sound and effects of the violin with his music, though I must say that the show has evolved in order to make it work well with the trade. Since the sax doesn’t quite fill in the same way a violin would, the slide guitar became even more evident, and that I found was a wonderful surprise. I believe it was the same gentleman on the instrument and he simply blew my mind with all of the delicate and well thought out sound effects he added to the music. Unsurprisingly and to my utter delight, Taylor Kirk performed with just as much talent as he has previously as well. I also noticed that he appears to be increasingly comfortable on stage; good for him and great for the audience. Way to go!

The headliners were of course The Great Lake Swimmers, which I’ve heard a lot about, but haven’t much of their music before last night. They’re a very listenable folk band that play mostly ballads and and sweets songs about heartbreak and big love (which I believe is basically the definition of ballad, but whatever). The signer’s voice is very nice: soft, soothing, and quite pleasing to the ear. The lyrics are simple and unpretentious and the music is tender. It comes as no surprise that the audience was filled with cuddling couples enjoying the moment. I believe there was one song that was a bit more up-beat and it came off a bit like a “rigodon”. There was quite of bit of people in the giant room, so it appears as though their act is quite successful. I don’t really know their songs, but I think it’s safe to say their performance is pretty much flawless. The only thing I had a bit of a hard time with is the fact that pretty much every song seem to carry a similar soft lulling tone, which is not to say it’s bad, it just didn’t work quite so well with the jet lag. Great show altogether.

Photos by SarahBrideau.com

Return from the old countries

Posted on June 19, 2009

It’s been three days since I’ve returned to Montreal. To be honest, I’ve been pretty ill ever since, which is my excuse for slacking off on the blog. The good thing about this (though there were several BAD things about this illness) is that it has allowed me to slowly immerse myself back into my homely environment in Petite Patrie. While I was bedridden (and toiletridden - I’ll leave out any other unfortunate and certainly unwanted details) I got to watch a lot of shitty TV shows. One of them that particularly hit me was Des kiwis et des hommes, which is actually a pretty bad show with a few excellent qualities. As it turns out, it’s shot live right here in my neighbourhood, at the Jean-Talon Market. One of the things that caught my attention is that they go out to the vendors, have chats with them about their productions and make recipes with what they find right there. After having been to France, let me tell you that I was pretty reluctant to admit that any food could be as good anywhere else as it was over there, BUT, apparently, our two countries do have common interests for good food that is well made in a respectable and traditional manner. Montreal is certainly the best place in Quebec to access some of the best foods out there without being on the actual farms. Why it’s so great is for the variety of things we have access to here… quality, certainly isn’t the same as the food found in the Lot, but that, I will judge as time goes by.

So my travels over the last 8 weeks have taken me to Spain, Southern France, Germany and England… what to say about all of that. There is so much to say, and photos can’t say it all. Barcelona was wonderful. Julie and me had a wonderful time discovering the city and the surrounding regions. One of the wonderful things about Barcelona is its transit system, which is top notch. It’s child’s play to get anywhere and very affordable at that. Within a week, we managed to discover some of it’s most noted landmarks and barri (neighbourhoods). It was also wonderful to meet three young American travelers with whom we randomly walked around in search of places to eat. Girona was fabulous and so was Sitges, two neighbouring towns filled with charm and beauty at every glance.

After that there was France. While I was there, I was lucky enough to be accompanied by two wonderful gentlemen: Alain whom I met during his 1 1/2 year in Montreal but is from Cahors and has been my best friend since then, and Vincent who took over when Alain had to get some work done, which turned out to account for most of my days in the Lot. I was also introduced to the lovely Ninon who welcomed us into her home for our late night dinners and hosted me for a few nights when I returned to Cahors last weekend.

Alain met me in Barcelona on the day of Julie’s departure and we spent a few days there before heading to Toulouse. Since he did his studies there, he knows the city pretty well and told me a bunch of the history of the places he took me to. Stories and Histories was my favorite way to discover the places I visited. Toulouse was quite pretty and I enjoyed spending time there with my friend, discovering his world I’d heard so much about. Actually, the word “enjoyed” is quite the understatement seeing as I was absolutely ecstatic nearing the point of delirium. I tried to absorb every moment, every smell, every taste, all the while avoiding dog poop (the cliche is true my friends). Every ounce of food and beverage vibrated an intense happiness that was felt everywhere in my body.

A few days later, we headed to The Lot (pronounced in French as “lotte”), where his grandmother welcomed us at the train station to take us to his home where his mother was preparing for the feast. I think I’ve described some of this previously so I’ll just skip right along to some memories that have marked my visit to the region of Cahors.Wineries and vineyards surround the town and were parts of my introductory day trip with Vincent. I was lucky enough to have a very intelligent and knowledgeable guide who took infinite pleasure into making me discover the riches of his homeland. Therefore, not only did I see a lot, but I learned a bunch while I was at it. Then came old Cahors, which I revisited profusely when I returned on the back end of my trip. To be honest, it’s not the things we did that can be put into words and transferred to you readers within a few words… its the people I met, the conversations, the silences, the comfort I found there that really made this stay absolutely sublime. This is a place where I could definitely consider living… and the rest of the memories are ingrained in my heart, and still come back to haunt me on a regular basis.

Germany was nice, fun, but definitely a culture shock I did not expect. After feasting in France for over a week, I found myself confronted with menus I did not understand a word of, and found out that most of their food consists of sausages and vegetables marinated in vinegar. What about the beer you say? Well the beer was nice. Tasty. The architecture? Since everything was pretty much destroyed during the war, it all was rebuilt, which makes most of it pretty much younger than most of what we have here in Canada. Still though, I must admit that it was rebuilt in such a way to keep things grand though simple. One of my favorite things about Munich was the fact that it is a city built for cyclists. There are literally bike paths everywhere. I had a fabulous time biking through it though it took me a while to figure out where I was going. The trains were also pretty easy to figure out though the language barrier certainly made things a bit harder for me since my brain found no recognition whatsoever in the words it was seeing on signs and such. It was a worthwhile experience, though certainly not a place where I would consider living.

Next stop was England, where I was visiting my friend Mike for two weeks. The journey began in Seighford, a village near Stafford in the English Midlands. As I expected, everything there is GREEN, oh so green. The scenery is lush and in every field there are either cows of sheep. It was absolutely lovely for a country lover like yours truly. I was welcomed at Cooksland Hall for a week where I was shown a warm welcome by my friend, his parents, Tango the dog and Molly the horse. Since I was there for a while, I will say this, England is the land of debauchery… at least for me it was. They serve some excellent bitter beers over there and some of the most delectable Scotch Whiskeys. When in France, you indulge in the food, and in England you indulge in the fabulous alcoholic drinks they have to offer. Life was mellow out there in the country and so it was on the Riviera town of Torquay during my second week. Mike and I ventured to Yorkshire for a weekend, where we flew a kite, drank Pimms and walked around a set of reservoirs in the moors. It appears everywhere I went I made friends with animals: cows, horses, sheep, dogs and especially cats. Good times. I ventured off to Birmingham one day and walked around the city. I also got a good amount of sun on my skin, which is unusual for someone to get over a two-week stay in England. Mike and I also found a great pub near the house where we went several times, the last of which I beat the pool champion at his own game. That one was for Acadia my friend! ha!

Now that I’m back and still jet lagged after 3 days on the continent, I reminisce on things that I’ve lived over the last 8 weeks. Like Alain has told me, the trip does not end once you get back home. It takes a while to get the voyage out of your system. Now that I’m living it, I sincerely believe it. I’m back as a slightly different me… and for the better I think. I am now forced to rediscover my own home. Get back in touch with my life, not as a wanderer but as someone who knows more now than she did when she left.

Anyway. I feel I’ve written enough for today, and you’ve probably read enough as well. I will keep writing on the subject until the well runs dry. One last thing is so very important for me to mention before I close this one off, the many thanks I have to make: Merci à Julie pour m’avoir permis de faire ce voyage merveilleux et pour ta compagnie en tant que partenaire de voyage épatante! bravo! on a fait une excellent équipe tous les deux; Thanks to Man-get, Brad and Chris for befirending us and helping us discover more of Barcelona than we would’ve without you (double thanks to Chris for hosting me in Munich); Les merci les plus profonds et sincères à Alain, Vincent, Imogen et Ninon qui m’on fait découvrir la mère-patrie que j’aime passionément-à-la-folie; and kind thanks to Mike and his family as well as Bridges and Parker for showing me a fabulous time alongside the warmest welcome in the UK.

Back in Montreal

Posted on June 16, 2009

Hello folks,

I’m back home in Montreal and currently undergoing a serious battle against a monstruous case of jetlag… I promise to write a “bilan” of my trip as soon as I’ve gotten some serious sleep.

Dans les sousbois

Posted on June 4, 2009

J’ai entendu ta voix dans les décombres de mes souvenirs.

J’ai vu ta main dans les vignes qui couvrent les arbres tendrement

qui y grimpent lentement

couvrent l’écorce de leurs caresses.

De la hauteur d’un tronc brisé, tu me tends ton bras, me montres le chemin.

Tu effleures mon poignet du bout des doigts.

Tu enfiles tes doigts entre les miens.

nos paumes se resserent

enlacent nos corps clandestins

à la sortie du sousbois

chuchotent des secrets

qui s’effacent comme les blessures sur mes pieds.

Travel-log: from the South of France to the English Midlands

Posted on June 1, 2009

 So maybe I haven’t been so good at keeping up with the English blogging for those of you who don’t understand French, or simply don’t understand what all of the poetic fuss is supposed to really mean. I think it’s been since one of my first days in France that I haven’t blogged anything straightforward.

To make a long story short, I stayed in Toulouse for a few days before heading to the Lot, the beautiful region of Cahors. It was there that I fell in love. Some of you may ask, “with a person or with the land”? The answer is a bit complicated, but for all intents and purposes, I will say that I fell in love with the Southwestern part of France. In all honesty, I’m ready to move there tomorrow, and I would if I didn’t have a few things to take care of in Montreal before I actually make my move. Whatever happens between now and September will determine the validity of that statement… so we’ll see.

What’s so great about it? Well the food for one. My body has never felt such extasy as it has while I was there. My stomach was happily digesting away all of the golden nourishment I was feeding it. My tastebuds finally understood what food was supposed to taste like. My brain didn’t understand why I haven’t been feeding myself this stuff for the past 25 years.

Thing is, I can hardly describe all of the wonderful stuff that I ingested over those 10 days. It’s all pretty simple really. Just quality quality quality. Most of the stuff people eat over there is produced within the region itself. In other words, the 100 mile diet is something that has always been part of these people’s lifestyles. They appear to be self sufficient and to live the lush life I always thought could never truly exist or really be that easy. Of course it has its downside… uh, yes…. hum. Ah, there we go: if you’re watching every calorie you eat, life would be impossible for you in the South of France. You would certainly pull all of your hair out trying to calculate the half bites allowed of each course. To have been there and tried it seriously for a week and a half, and I mean seriously… I had seconds and thirds sometimes and never skipped dessert, I didn’t really gain any weight to speak of. People appear to be generally healthy and you rarely see any overweight people in that part of the world, whereas in Brittain, it’s another story. The moral of this story is, indulge! There’s nothing bad about good quality products from the terroir. What we should really be scared of is the processed stuff slowly taking over everything we eat in the Americas.

Mis a part the food, I was lucky enough to have my very own travel guide show me around the region. I was visiting my best friend Alain, who lives in Cahors, and one of his good friends, Vincent, was kind enough to take me on daily adventures for 4 consecutive days. Vince grew up in the region and is a true lover of the Lot. To hear him talk about it, tell me stories, annecdotes and an impressively precise historical background of the things he brought me to see, was an experience I’ll never forget. I don’t think many travellers get so lucky as to have such a brilliant person motivate the discovery of such a magical place… I can’t even begin to say how truly blessed I feel to have had the opportunity to live the Southwest of France that way.

The lifestyle is also something that feels like something my body has been craving for a long time. They work, but not like we do in America or here in Brittain. They relax a lot… and they need to in order to allow their bodies to digest the intense quantities of food that they do. Of course there’s a lot of wine, and it is served with every meal. Yum. In the towns, the houses, the parks, there’s always loads of accomodations for sitting and taking a breather. People like to take it easy over there. Doesn’t matter which town you’re in, if there’s a terrace, it’s pretty much always full of people seeing la vie en rose.

People also seem to spend a lot of time in other people’s company… life is “communautaire”. They eat together, get together for drinks in the evening, have coffee with a family member, bref, people don’t appear to be so stuck in their own bubbles of individuality and stupor as we seem to have in the big cities. Maybe it’s just a factor that comes with being out in the country, but I felt that people easily said “hello”, even if you don’t know them. They welcome the Acadian girl as a cousin and try to make her taste as many local things as possible while she’s there. They always checked with one another to see “oh, have you gotten her try that yet?” or yet “have you taken her there?”. They are so proud of their region, of their culture, of their food and very eager to help a foreigner discover little oddities or specialties. That was quite special to tell you the truth. Some people may describe the French as slightly pompous, egoistical, or chauvinistic… but I get it now… it’s because these people are so deeply in love with where they live and their way of life, and with good reason. This also brings a pretty interesting perspective to some of the questions about culture that I’ve been pondering upon lately… but that’s another story.

Then, I headed over to Munich, with a heavy heart. I honestly never wanted to leave the Lot… EVER. But you know… life must go on. I was visiting a friend that I had met in Barcelona. Chris had a busy week, but I had a fun time in the Beer Gardens, walking around the city and taking pictures, figuring out how to get around by myself in a city where the language is so foreign that I can’t even pronounce things properly. It was a challenge, but I had a fun time. I spent a lot of time writing while I was there, which is something I haven’t done in a long long time. Funnest adventure was Tuesday, when we took a train out to Chiemsee. From there, we took a boat out to the islands on the lake, ran in fields, swam in the said lake… it was lovely.

Now I’m staying over at my friend Michael’s place in the English Midlands. I’m out in the coutry and life here is beautiful, nice, calm, though clearly not as lush and carefree as it was in France. The two cultures are of great contrast.

To have grown up as an Acadian who finished High School in an English institution, I had felt a strong connection to the anglophones over the past 10 years… much more so than to the country loving acadians, or the language fanatic quebecers. I appologize if this comes off as slightly harsh, but it’s just not something that I saw in myself… as part of my identity. I have always loved the country, but hated the way it seemed to imply a very limited perception of the world. I love languages and have always been proud of my French heritage, but I always felt that the Acadians don’t fit into the French Canadian identity since the complicated issues that Quebecers battled over the last few decades have been approached by them as a “separate” entity that is “non-Canadian-but-sovereignist”. It’s sort of a mess to try to explain this on a blog post about my travels, but let’s just agree to understand that the point I am trying to make is that I wasn’t exactly sure WHERE my roots were. I am Acadian… but what does that mean exactly? Well that’s one of the things that I have been finding out on this trip. How do people define themselves? How do they build their identities? Well, so far, I have found out that I am most definitely French because so many of the things that I lived over there felt more “spot on” than anything I have ever experienced. The only thing that ever felt like this has beed dipping my toes in the sand or in the sea…. whereas my French experience lasted for days. Everything I touched, tasted, saw, felt… pure joy and happiness.

In England, life is similar to many things and ways of living that we perpetuate in the Americas. I like a lot of it, but feels a little less like a discovery and more like something else, somewhere else… Anyway… enough blogging for today. I’ll try to update with more actual travel logs soonish.