This weekend I heard a little girl ask her daddy what The Gathering meant. I listened, knowing what his answer would probably be, but wondering if he would tell her something different than I expected. The truth was that I was feeling like for the first time I understood what The Gathering meant: fire, food, music, beautiful people, and the spirit of Newfoundland. It could never be properly summed up, but the only words that come to mind when I describe it are "pure magic."
I had known about
for a year or so, but I didn't know what to expect. I'd looked at the Facebook page, and pictures on the internet, but I wasn't sure about anything other than that I was in for good music and food-- but what I experienced far exceeded my expectations.
Burlington, Newfoundland is located about 7 hours away from St. John's on the Baie Verte Peninsula. (
Thanks for correcting me, anonymous commenter! CFA mistake. :)
) Driving after dark is risky on this island because there is always a chance of a moose accident, so after work on Thursday, I hit the highway hoping to get there at a half decent hour. I arrived late at night with no idea where to go or what to do. Thankfully there was signs up all around the town, and some locals were still up and willing to point me in the right direction.
I made a couple of trips back and forth from my car to Tent City (The campground) preparing for what was sure to be a rainy night. I was nervous-- I'd never camped on my own before, and I had no idea what I was doing. Thankfully I'd bought a pop up tent that week, and within 10 minutes, I was in my tiny, but dry green tent and falling asleep with no idea what the next morning would bring.
I woke up early, rubbing my sleepy eyes and trying to remember where I was. Where did I go to the bathroom? Did they really have no facilities? How was I going to brush my teeth? I unzipped the tent and got out. I don't know how to convey the sight that was in front of me. A beautiful bay, puffy dark clouds, a huge number of tents, and a little town were all coming into focus. It took my breath away, and all worries about porta potties and running water were gone.
Tent City
I stood there taking it all in, never wanting the moment to end, but my thoughts were interrupted by people passing by and saying "Good morning."
Every. Single. Person. It felt like home. My tent neighbor must have guessed I was new to the camping thing, and said the most wonderful thing I'd heard all morning: "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
It was music to my ears, and I gratefully accepted. It was the perfect start to the perfect day.
Soon after, I headed to The Gathering grounds. Because the weather was unpredictable, I took my car and was glad for it when the clouds opened and the rain came pouring down on everyone. When I got out and walked down the lane towards the grounds, I couldn't stop the smile from sweeping across my face.
There it was. Nestled in the bay stood a lighthouse, a greenhouse, a stage, venders, and chef's tents that all made up an atmosphere that overflowed with excitement.
Like I said, I'd googled many times over, trying to get a feel for what The Gathering was. I realized then that the reason I'd had such a hard time finding anything, was because no picture does it justice, and no words can explain what it's like.
I mean, how do you explain about food that would make Karl Wells satisfied? How do you explain about what it's like to see the dedication put into it? The food was out of this world. From 12-5 with the premium pass, you could eat anything they were offering, no questions asked-- their only concern was that it would be enjoyed.
They didn't skimp. I'm no foodie, but all I could think was "WOW!"
You just went to the station where you wanted the food. Chicken? Seafood? Veggies? Cheese? You name it. You could try it all. But it wasn't just the food. It was the happy chatter of the people. It was the delighted laughs of children as they ran about. It was the gasps of amazement over the full moon, boats, and beautiful music.
It was being able to go to the swimming hole and swim in peace. It was about not having cell service and being able to get away from the city sounds for days on end. It was knowing that you were in the most beautiful place imaginable. It was about community.
The swimming hole.
Loving life
Signs everywhere
Because I was alone, it gave me the chance to observe everything happen without really being in the mix of things. I find crowds difficult, and more than anything I didn't want to have a panic attack like the one I'd had a few weeks ago. But this place was special-- the whole weekend I was very aware that there wasn't even a chance of that happening. I was nervous, but I also knew I was safe. I felt happy to wander off and explore the next town over. The sleepy little towns were welcoming, gorgeous, and I couldn't help but wonder about all their stories, and how each one came to be there.
Old and new, but all beautiful.
Pride without words.
Bayside.
But you know what was so amazing about it? The reason the entire festival came to be. Shaun Majumder is a well known Canadian comedian. He is the mastermind behind the festival. From what I understand, he wants to promote tourism in small town Newfoundland and came up with an idea to bring his community together and benefit the small towns that are often forgotten. As he would remind us over the weekend-- every single cent we spent would go back into the communities. Not a percentage, not a set amount, every cent would help them.
He might be paid to be funny, but he could not have taken "giving back to the community" and "remember where you come from" more seriously. I left with so much respect for this man
And I can't tell you how much the town came together to make this work. The volunteers wore their orange shirts and walked around quickly, going to their stations and doing what needed to be done. They were hosting this festival, and they were going to do it well. The town hall cooked breakfast, the fire department set up a bar (no drinking on the grounds) and all throughout the town were little stands of locals selling food, goods, and so much more. Kids with big dreams, and adults ready to show off their culture.
"I'm saving for an American Doll!" She told me with an air of excitement and pride as she sold me lemonade and the best blueberry muffin ever.
There were tons of options during the day. You could go on a Brook Picnic with food from Raymond's (Voted best restaurant in Canada) sign up for a Chef's Hike, go kayaking, swimming, or just explore. The options were endless.
The festival is the coming together of well known chefs and loved musicians-- but yet, they mixed in with the crowd. They spoke to people, they ate the food, they talked to you like it was no big deal. I never, ever, felt like anybody was better than anyone else when I was there. And when you have people like Mark Critch, Shaun Majumder, Alan Doyle, Murray MacDonald, Catherine and Andrew from Fortunate Ones, and many more acting so down to earth-- it's special. Newfoundlanders are known for that, but to witness it in action was amazing.
They'd heard about The Gathering, so they decided to look it up and quickly came to the conclusion that they wanted to go. There was one problem: they weren't huge campers, and hoped to find a bed and breakfast. They emailed the website, asking if there was any way to find accommodations. They couldn't have been more shocked when they received a reply from Shaun Majumder himself. He couldn't find a place, he told them regretfully, but he really hoped that they would still come. They were so impressed that he personally took the time to answer them, they they booked an RV and stayed for the entire festival. They didn't regret the decision for a second.
You usually hear very little about rural Newfoundland. I mean, I hear about it because I listen and read a lot. But when I lived in Nova Scotia I knew so little, and I might be wrong, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the further west you go, the less people know about Newfoundland. It's not their fault-- it's just a shame that one of Canada's best treasures is overlooked. Their stories and their hearts are worth the drive, worth the flight, and worth the visit.
"I love that all the chefs use my things from the greenhouse, "she told me happily, but she didn't boast. It wasn't until later that night I heard it announced on stage that the festival had started all because of her famous greenhouse.
It must be getting old to hear me say that I think their pride runs deep, but it always amazes me, whether it's about fishing, awesome radio shows, talented musicians, or accidental artists.
She didn't start painting until about three years ago. She needed to get some decorating done, and didn't want to spend too much money so she decided to go mix some paint together to give some new touches to older things. When she was doing that, she decided to paint two pieces. "They weren't masterpieces by any means!" she told me, but something had awakened inside of her. When she was finished, she couldn't help but notice how crooked she felt. "That wasn't normal for me" she said. "Finally I said to my husband, 'I'm upset because I don't have anything to paint.'" So she began to paint again, and she hasn't stopped since. They call her the accidental artist.
The day ended with music that filled my heart up and overflowed with joy. I couldn't help but feel the admiration of the boy who stood close to the stage and pretended to be a rock star by playing air guitar as Alan Doyle performed. I admired the patience of the Fortunate Ones as they put up with sound issues, and I became a new fan of Sherman Downey.
My goal to have each CD from the XX Great Big Sea box set signed became more real.
Burlington, Newfoundland. It was a place I'd never heard of. A population of 350 people. A small town that probably had been affected brutally by the cod moratorium. A place where people took what life handed them and produced a brilliant plan:
The magic of The Gathering.
