Regular readers know we've been unapologetic Willibald groupies since day one – following the arc of this inspired operation from its humble beginnings when, nearly a decade ago, brothers Jordan and Nolan van der Heyden, alongside childhood friend Cam Formica, launched a small-batch distillery on a bucolic farm on the outskirts of Ayr.
I'm a sucker for multi-tools. They colonize my life the way good gear should: a cycling tool in every bike bag, a handful of Swiss Army knives rattling in kitchen drawers, and at least two larger multi-tools permanently stationed in my Land Cruiser – one in the centre console, another tucked into a rear compartment beside a plug-in pump (for inflating river tubes in warmer months) and a heavy-duty tow strap (for hauling neighbours out of snowbanks when winter tightens its grip).
Our region is bursting at the seams with old factories — surviving monuments to a time when this area of Southwestern Ontario was a manufacturing powerhouse of the Commonwealth. And while many of these industrial icons have, predictably, been reborn as condos and tech offices, others have taken on new life as warm, welcoming, customer-facing spaces: restaurants, cafés, boutiques — and breweries.
In early September, on what turned out to be the first glorious ‘sweater weather’ weekend of the season, Willibald Farm Distillery & Brewery hosted its inaugural charity car show: Willibald Motorfest.
‘I feel as though we’re in some nineteenth- century Parisian metro station,’ Cai whispers to me as Foundry Tavern General Manager Joey Ranchuk guides us through the restaurant’s bar area to a four-seater near the back of the busy space. Indeed, everything about the place hearkens back to some earlier romantic era. The century- old stone and concrete walls.
‘When I was younger,’ Georgia recalls, a mischievous smirk rolling out across her face, ‘I insisted on wearing anything I wanted. Colourful shirts. Vibrant pants. Mismatched socks. Polka-dotted rubber boots. Whatever fit my mood.’
Driven by my partner Nina’s background in and passion for pottery (and my own desire to elude long commutes) in 2009 Nina and I opened the first Play with Clay location in downtown Guelph. At its core, Play with Clay is an interactive pottery studio that offers ready-to-paint ceramics as well as the opportunity to work with fresh clay.
‘It makes little to no sense for a start-up looking to manufacture safety razors, of all things, to commission a specialist machine shop that’s cut its teeth producing satellite bits for the aerospace industry to do it for them,’ Brad remarks as he guides me past a handful of half-million-dollar mills and lathes operating at full steam.
Downtown Cambridge is experiencing a bourgeoning renaissance of sorts. And we’re here for it. Hip boutiques. Fantastic restaurants. Chic condos. Bumpin’ patios. All framed in a European-esque historic town lined with stone buildings and cut through by the mighty Grand River.
THERE ARE FEW REGIONAL INITIATIVES THAT HAVE RECEIVED AS MUCH HYPE OVER THE PAST HANDFUL OF YEARS AS WATERLOO-BASED HIP DEVELOPMENTS' AMBITIOUS PROJECT, THE GASLIGHT DISTRICT. AND FOR GOOD REASON.
Travel tends to sharpen taste. It introduces new ideas, uncovers unforeseen obsessions, and offers the occasional epiphany – nudging your sense of beauty and your grasp of craftsmanship in new directions. For Ryan LeClair, founder of Makoto Watch Company out of London, Ontario, it was travel – and specifically a trip to Japan – that transformed his infatuation with watch collecting into his initiation of a brand built on craft, restraint, and everyday practicality.
Almost nothing we carry defines us more clearly than the books in our bags: tactile objects filled with ideas and stories – testimonies to time well spent. They tag along with us, mark our days, and shape the rhythm of how we move through the world. In Uptown Waterloo, three long-standing independent bookstores – Carry-On Comics & Books (46 years young), Words Worth Books (42 years), and Old Goat Books (25 years) – offer distinct ways to build this bracket of everyday carry: a nostalgia-driven comic haven built for the thrill of discovery, a curated literary hub grounded in conversation, and a densely-packed used bookstore where the search is part of the reward. Together, these enduring fixtures map a reading life – charting not just what we read, but how we come to find it.
In my line of work – as writer, photographer, editor, regional explorer – EDC isn't a trend. It's infrastructure. Most days I'm in motion: tracing backroads toward a brewhouse, mapping my way to an artist's studio, or sliding into the corner of a coffee shop where I turn field notes into final copy and RAW files into photographs that will pop on paper. My office is wherever I set my bag down. My tools make it possible.
Stratford – and, by extension, Perth County – lends itself to takeaway. A coffee to carry, a sandwich in hand, something sweet tucked alongside – then out into the streets for window shopping, into the theatres for a performance, or down to the riverbank for a nosh.
