How dare I? One of St. John’s biggest events, the legendary festival that invites people from all over to come and partake in the sacred tradition of Newfoundland boozin’.
If you haven’t heard me mention the street before, it’s known for having the most clubs and pubs per square foot than any other street in North America, which we’re proud about because this city has just 150,000 people. Traffic isn’t allowed on the road past 6 a.m., so people wander about freely all day. Plus it’s just a five minute walk from my house. Strategy.
Anyway, the festivals occurs each year at the end of July. The entire street shuts down so that drinkers pay $20-$30 (pricey, I know) to get in, pour their beer into plastic cups, and wander at will. You can drink in the street and enjoy some live music, or mosey between bars without having to pay any cover fees.
The whole thing is ridiculous. Saturday night I stood on the deck of Greensleeves with a beer in hand watching the crowd milling about the street, and I had never seen such chaos and clamour. I loved it.
My only issue is that I missed all the live entertainment because the street filled too quickly and tickets stopped selling. I decided to skip the $30 event of Our Lady Peace’s opening concert, and immediately regretted it. The show was apparently fantastic. Instead, I watched from The Republic just above the street with cold beer in hand. People watching is fun when you have your eye on the military dudes dressed in their camouflage being violated by drunken women. Flawless plan.
The festival has been around for 26 years, and I’ve been attending for four. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen the street so congested. The festival ends off tomorrow night with an old-fashioned kitchen party on stage. Fiddle music and jig-dancing awaits.
Ah, St. John’s. So many reasons to love you.
(All these photos were taken by the lovely Maggie, as I was incapable of operating any electronics for most of the weekend.)