Festival finale

Morning…

Noon…

Evening.

The plastic wristbands have been snipped off, the sunburns are being soothed and the festival t-shirts and cds are being assessed for staying power. Where does the festival time go?

Sunday was a little anticlimactic for me music-wise, but excelled in the food and weather departments. I had a pretty wonderful freshly made waffle for breakfast with strawberries (canned) and whipping cream (aerosol) from Cornstars; alas the Second Cup coffee was so thin we had to get extra shots of espresso from D’Amore’s Deli to get us through our morning. My India Palace lunch was so good – chicken bhoona and saffron rice – that I had supper – beef and potato curry with a crispy samosa – from the same place.

Started off the day with a couple of nicely done jazz numbers from Mary Coughlan before wandering off to catch up on the latest from the Wailin Jennies – absolutely mobbed at their stage, and double-mobbed at the same stage when Greg Brown arrived in his railway cap to thrill all the women way down to their toes with his deep deep voice. Wandered aimlessly for a while buying trinkets at the craft tent and seeking shade from the blistering sun. Bopped along to Balfa Toujours for a few numbers, then caught a few home truths from Iris DeMent, and on to the supper hour, beating the worst of the food queues and fending off the swarm of entrepreneurial youngsters who offer to return re-usable plates for you (pocketing your toonie deposit). Salif Keita and his 9 musical companions were followed by the neo-folk-activist harmonies of Chumbawamba, and we packed up our tarp after the Blind Boys from Alabama shook a few birds from the trees, not waiting for Sarah Harmer or the singalong finale.