Sunday, July 11, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Bawstin
The train ride was OK - I managed to sleep most of the way, but Mark wasn't quite so lucky. Since we couldn't really turn up at our B&B at 8am, we grabbed a coffee and a bagel near Boston Common and tried not to fall asleep. Everyone on Boston Common seemed to feel as groggy as we did - apparently Boston is home of one of the biggest 4th of July parties. It was slightly mollifying to see that, while we were really tired, most of Boston was really hungover. We killed an hour or so on Boston Common, admiring the greenery, the lakes, the squirrels playing and the panhandler singing a seemingly endless song of "Change change change, change change change, has anybody got any change?".
At a slightly more respectable time of 11am, we arrived at our B&B in a brownstone on Beacon St. We were in luck - our room was ready (we'd emailed ahead at 1am!) so we caught up on some sleep and avoided the heat of the middle of the day.
Boston has painted a red line around town that takes you to American Revolution sites and called it the "Freedom Trail" - we did that for a few hours - highlights: Paul Revere's grave, the site of the Boston Massacre, and then grabbed a root beer at Quincy Market, enjoyed the sun on the pier before grabbing dinner near Faneuil Hall and heading home to catch up on some more sleep.
It was a much more relaxing start to our second morning in Boston - coffee and pastries at a cafe in Beacon Hill (the East Coast coffee is SO MUCH better). Then out to unbelievably beautiful Harvard, where we roamed around trying to look smart, and MIT, where the even the buildings are geeky. We completed the Freedom Trail by heading to the Bunker Hill monument at Charles Town, but the 36 degree heat was really starting to get to us - and we weren't alone. We happened upon a rather spectacular scene - all the roads around Bunker Hill were sealed from traffic and were clogged up by dozens of emergency vehicles, after a brownstone caught fire (the result of an illegal barbecue on a rooftop). Heaps of firemen were treated for heat exhaustion. We prescribed ourselves gelato and then checked out Old North Church - where the "two if by sea" lanterns were set up on Paul Revere's orders, Paul Revere Mall, Paul Revere's house etc. It was too hot to chew, so we got some lovely clam chowder and hideous pinot gris before heading out on our sunset cruise on Boston Harbour. We saw all the landmarks - the site of the Boston Tea Party, the various islands, the USS Constitution, Battery Wharf, Lincoln Wharf etc, but the highlight was definitely the Boston skyline with a blood-red sun sinking behind it. One last push before bed - Boston Cream Pie at Omni Parker House (delicious, if a little too long to arrive).
In summary - Boston was wonderful, the accents were brilliant, it put up some serious competition to Philly (our favourite US city thus far).
NYC - Part 1
It's been a while between blogs... New York City will do that to you!
Day 1
We arrived in NYC on Friday morning. It was pretty overwhelming to arrive in a city this size after having been in Winston for five weeks. Since we had our (rather large) packs, we decided against the subway in favour of a yellow cab. As we had hoped, our cabbie was indecipherable, crazy and a menace on the roads. We dropped our stuff off in our B&B, a ramshackle converted warehouse in the East Village and stopped by one of the East Village stock-standard organic food hipster cafes on our way... somewhere... we hadn't decided yet.
We eventually chose Chelsea, arriving by subway. The Chelsea Hotel was pretty cool, not as grungy as the books would have you believe, and we just sort of wandered about looking at New Yorkers. We bought week-long metro passes so we hot-spotted around the area. It was perhaps the worst decision we could have made to check out Times Square at 4pm on a Friday when we haven't really done big cities in a while. An overdose of lights and people and spruikers almost gave me a melt-down until I spotted the MAC shop and got some retail therapy. Mark, realising that 20 minutes in a make-up shop was actually to his benefit in the long run, kindly went along with this. Then to the Rockefeller Centre, the Lego store (awesome), Magnolia and along Fifth Avenue.
At 6pm we met Fran and Kate (my former workmates and friends) at Rue B in the East Village for a drink. Fleur (another former workmate and current NYC resident) and a bunch of NYC pals, and Dean (ANOTHER former workmate) and his wife Hamsa arrived and we got to the serious business of catching up, followed by dinner. It was a really great night, and also a bizarre experience to catch up with old friends in a place like this!
Day 2
We got off to a bit of a slow start, which was helped greatly by a visit to Veselka, recommended by my workmate Nick (who is a connoisseur of pretty much everything). It's a Ukrainian cafe in the East Village and the potato pancakes and omelettes are incredible. It was a lovely walk in the sunshine to Greenwich Village, past Columbia University and into Washington Square Park (we thought it was weird that people were lying on the grass in bikinis when there was no beach or river anywhere nearby). As we were wandering along Bleecker Street, we saw a familiar face - former PM Helen Clark, who was in the midst of taking some friends on a walking tour (her husband told us it's her weekend job). On the way to see NYC's narrowest house, we spotted a Rhode Island number plate - which marked the final in the set of all 50 US number plates. Much excitement ensued.
I had a Gossip Girl moment at Grand Central Station, which continued on Fifth Avenue at Saks, Bendel's and Bergdorf's (where I got some new sunglasses). Mark's patience was rewarded at the Apple Store on Central Park.
Back to Greenwich Village to buy a bottle of rose and meet my very old friends Shiloh and Matt, now resident in Toronto. After an hour or so of catching up, we got some dinner at a lovely wee trattoria on Father Demo Square (Matt showed us Jim's pizzeria of Along Came Polly fame). The rest of the evening was spent at Cafe Wha?, where Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix first got going. We arrived to catch the tail-end of a comedian and then a really amazing covers band played until midnight - there were about 5 vocalists (all of whom were incredible), and about 10 in the band in total. The highlight was definitely the guy who was pretty much the real-life version of Bill Nighy's character from Love Actually. We said goodbye to Shiloh in Matt in Greenwich Village, with the Empire State Building lit up in the background.
Day 3 - Independence Day
Subway to Soho to meet Fran for brunch at Dean & DeLuca's flagship deli... which turned out not to do dine-in. So we went around the corner to a nice-looking cafe. We checked out the menu and pronounced it "fine" - only to be interrupted by a New Yorker who put us straight. Apparently this place (Balthazar) is not just fine - "Dinner is an incredible dining experience. Lunch is amazing" and then something along the lines of "Brunch will change your life". And we were lucky that there was no line because everyone was in the Hampton's for the holiday weekend. Balthazar was lovely, visually stunning, the food and coffee really were beautiful, but you'd expect them to be when the brunch bill came to over $90US!!
We headed to Fleur's Upper East Side apartment (I didn't think they made them this spacious or lovely in NYC - Fleur's a very lucky girl!), where we met the rest of the gang and headed to Yankee Stadium in the Bronx to celebrate the fourth of July with A-Rod and co. Baseball is really awesome, partially because the experience isn't just about the game, it's about the hotdogs, the crowd and the extreme Americana - and it was very cool to witness a really tight Yankees win in extra time. After pizza at Fleur's, we headed to Wall St, where (thanks to Fleur) we had the good luck to celebrate Independence Day by watching the fireworks with a bunch of mates at a rooftop party - 51 floors up! It was a very surreal experience, marred only slightly by having to say goodbye to everyone afterwards.
When we got back to our B&B, the owner's birthday party was in full-swing... her friends kept coming up to our floor to use the bathroom, the bass was pumping and we couldn't sleep. So we decided that, instead of lying in bed unable to sleep, we'd just leave for Boston immediately (at 2:40am) and sleep on the train.... which is how we arrived in Boston at 7:30am!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Cause for celebration
Not long before that, we also bumped into Helen Clark, who was showing some visitors around her new neighborhood. We had a chat about old times.
Friday, July 2, 2010
The streets of Philadelphia
So, amidst all of the driving and getting Winston ready for the drop-off, we kind of forgot to think about the fact we were headed for Philadelphia. We knew that its city centre had 'the most historical square mile in the USA', and that Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell were there, but that was it really. At any rate, we LOVED Philly. We're now on a fancy train to NYC!
We arrived about 2pm on Tuesday and got to our B&B, which shall remain nameless for reasons which will become apparent later. Our landlady, whom we will call Jane*, showed us to our massive room (shared bathroom - still good though), told us the places to go for a drink/dinner/to see the Amish in action and then we headed out. We wandered past Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence was signed and the Constitution was debated, and then headed to an awesome bar called Varga.
Philadelphians, as it turn out, are a really friendly lot. Within about 10 minutes, we'd started drinking beers with a couple of locals (who didn't know each other either) and who were very interested in our trip. They explained local culture, places to visit, why Obama is less popular than he was before, why America is the way it is (various reasons for this, the one that I remember is "The Constitution needs updating" - Lefty: I thought of you - this guy was also half European!). We ended up having a few more beers than we'd intended... and I finally had a root beer float (basically a spider with Vanilla ice-cream, root beer and whipped cream on top with a cherry - this bar was really nice though so it was fancy). We then headed to a restaurant recommended by one of our new friends for some excellent Italian and then staggered our way home to be greeted by Jane's tiny barking dogs glaring at us from behind their little gate in the hallway.
Up bright and early the next morning (and feeling surprisingly fine) we set off for Independence Hall, and swung by the Liberty Bell on the way. The Liberty Bell is kind of cute - I think the enormous crack in it makes it cuter. The tour of Independence Hall was great - another stellar effort by the amazing National Park Service. The ranger took us around the court room, the signing room, and the upstairs rooms (the ballroom and weapons rooms which are only open 6 weeks per year). By this point, we needed coffee, so we headed towards the Delaware River, dropping into the Carpenters' Guild (the first Trade Union Building in the USA - I think - and where Benjamin Franklin had a library, and met French Spies to find ways to deal to the troublesome English). Finally we found a coffee and spent some time sitting in the pleasant, not-too-humid sunshine and enjoyed being on holiday. Then down to the Delaware, to Penn's Landing, where William Penn and his settlers first arrived in Pennsylvania in 1682. We looked across the river and contemplated walking the 1.6 miles across the bridge to New Jersey, but decided we'd just enjoy Philly.
Next stop was Elfreth's Alley - "probably the longest continuously inhabited street in the USA" - originally small row houses for working-class Irish families in the 1700s. It's extremely charming and very close to Betsy Ross' house - "where the first star-spangled banner was probably sewn" (although this does not reconcile with information at the Smithsonian in DC). Then to pay our respects at Benjamin Franklin's grave. He's our favourite of the founding fathers, a real rockstar amongst early statesmen. And despite his huge number of achievements as a scientist inventor, author, politician, journalist, humorist and statesman, his grave says only his name and the dates of his life (contrast and compare: Thomas Jefferson). Then past Chinatown, City Hall and into U-Penn, an Ivy League University founded by Ben Franklin. It's really beautiful and, as expected, covered in Ivy.
By this point, our feet hurt and we needed a drink, so we headed to Rittenhouse Square for a drink in the sunshine. Note: Rittenhouse Square is a pretty "nice" area - you should see what a bottle of Kiwi Sav sells for there!). The waitress told us we looked disgustingly relaxed. We did a wee bit of damage at the surrounding shops on the way back home, where we were barked at again before we undertook the most important mission yet: finding a Philly Cheese Steak. Everyone recommended Jim's on South Street, including, as demonstrated on our arrival, Billy Joel, Bruce Willis, various stars of 21 Jump Street, Anne Heche and Mr T. A Philly Cheese Steak is chopped beef, with cheese on a bun. It is both disgusting and wonderful, and somehow, unlike with most fast-food, we didn't feel disgusting afterwards. After a quick drink at Varga again (we were greeted like old friends by the staff), we headed home and got barked at again.
Our second day in Philly started well, we got up, went to a cafe, had a couple of excellent espressos and nipped in back at Jane's to drop off the laptop. As we went back down the stairs, one of Jane's dogs, an angry little sausage dog, charged Mark and savaged him on the leg, leaving some scratches and two little vampiresque puncture wounds. At first we thought it was OK, but when it started bleeding I insisted we go to a pharmacy (as you can imagine, Mark insisted it was all fine). The pharmacist had some concerns about rabies and tetanus and recommended a visit to the ER. We went back to Jane's to ask about the Sausage Vampire shots (which it had, and our concerns were poo-pooed).
So we headed off to an otherwise relaxing day: excellent lunch, a tour of what remains of Franklin's house, his post-office (he set the first one up), his printing room and book-bindery. On our way to Varga, a girl greeted us in the street with "Hi nice couple from NZ!" (we realised later she'd sold us our coffees that morning), and the bar staff had our stools ready. We think that's why we like Philly - after a very short amount of time it felt a bit home-like.
We've just been asked not to "dilly dally" by the train conductor, so better get going. We're almost in New York
*Not her real name
We arrived about 2pm on Tuesday and got to our B&B, which shall remain nameless for reasons which will become apparent later. Our landlady, whom we will call Jane*, showed us to our massive room (shared bathroom - still good though), told us the places to go for a drink/dinner/to see the Amish in action and then we headed out. We wandered past Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence was signed and the Constitution was debated, and then headed to an awesome bar called Varga.
Philadelphians, as it turn out, are a really friendly lot. Within about 10 minutes, we'd started drinking beers with a couple of locals (who didn't know each other either) and who were very interested in our trip. They explained local culture, places to visit, why Obama is less popular than he was before, why America is the way it is (various reasons for this, the one that I remember is "The Constitution needs updating" - Lefty: I thought of you - this guy was also half European!). We ended up having a few more beers than we'd intended... and I finally had a root beer float (basically a spider with Vanilla ice-cream, root beer and whipped cream on top with a cherry - this bar was really nice though so it was fancy). We then headed to a restaurant recommended by one of our new friends for some excellent Italian and then staggered our way home to be greeted by Jane's tiny barking dogs glaring at us from behind their little gate in the hallway.
Up bright and early the next morning (and feeling surprisingly fine) we set off for Independence Hall, and swung by the Liberty Bell on the way. The Liberty Bell is kind of cute - I think the enormous crack in it makes it cuter. The tour of Independence Hall was great - another stellar effort by the amazing National Park Service. The ranger took us around the court room, the signing room, and the upstairs rooms (the ballroom and weapons rooms which are only open 6 weeks per year). By this point, we needed coffee, so we headed towards the Delaware River, dropping into the Carpenters' Guild (the first Trade Union Building in the USA - I think - and where Benjamin Franklin had a library, and met French Spies to find ways to deal to the troublesome English). Finally we found a coffee and spent some time sitting in the pleasant, not-too-humid sunshine and enjoyed being on holiday. Then down to the Delaware, to Penn's Landing, where William Penn and his settlers first arrived in Pennsylvania in 1682. We looked across the river and contemplated walking the 1.6 miles across the bridge to New Jersey, but decided we'd just enjoy Philly.
Next stop was Elfreth's Alley - "probably the longest continuously inhabited street in the USA" - originally small row houses for working-class Irish families in the 1700s. It's extremely charming and very close to Betsy Ross' house - "where the first star-spangled banner was probably sewn" (although this does not reconcile with information at the Smithsonian in DC). Then to pay our respects at Benjamin Franklin's grave. He's our favourite of the founding fathers, a real rockstar amongst early statesmen. And despite his huge number of achievements as a scientist inventor, author, politician, journalist, humorist and statesman, his grave says only his name and the dates of his life (contrast and compare: Thomas Jefferson). Then past Chinatown, City Hall and into U-Penn, an Ivy League University founded by Ben Franklin. It's really beautiful and, as expected, covered in Ivy.
By this point, our feet hurt and we needed a drink, so we headed to Rittenhouse Square for a drink in the sunshine. Note: Rittenhouse Square is a pretty "nice" area - you should see what a bottle of Kiwi Sav sells for there!). The waitress told us we looked disgustingly relaxed. We did a wee bit of damage at the surrounding shops on the way back home, where we were barked at again before we undertook the most important mission yet: finding a Philly Cheese Steak. Everyone recommended Jim's on South Street, including, as demonstrated on our arrival, Billy Joel, Bruce Willis, various stars of 21 Jump Street, Anne Heche and Mr T. A Philly Cheese Steak is chopped beef, with cheese on a bun. It is both disgusting and wonderful, and somehow, unlike with most fast-food, we didn't feel disgusting afterwards. After a quick drink at Varga again (we were greeted like old friends by the staff), we headed home and got barked at again.
Our second day in Philly started well, we got up, went to a cafe, had a couple of excellent espressos and nipped in back at Jane's to drop off the laptop. As we went back down the stairs, one of Jane's dogs, an angry little sausage dog, charged Mark and savaged him on the leg, leaving some scratches and two little vampiresque puncture wounds. At first we thought it was OK, but when it started bleeding I insisted we go to a pharmacy (as you can imagine, Mark insisted it was all fine). The pharmacist had some concerns about rabies and tetanus and recommended a visit to the ER. We went back to Jane's to ask about the Sausage Vampire shots (which it had, and our concerns were poo-pooed).
So we headed off to an otherwise relaxing day: excellent lunch, a tour of what remains of Franklin's house, his post-office (he set the first one up), his printing room and book-bindery. On our way to Varga, a girl greeted us in the street with "Hi nice couple from NZ!" (we realised later she'd sold us our coffees that morning), and the bar staff had our stools ready. We think that's why we like Philly - after a very short amount of time it felt a bit home-like.
We've just been asked not to "dilly dally" by the train conductor, so better get going. We're almost in New York
*Not her real name
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Capital of Capitals
Our time in Washington was one of Museums and Monuments, and we didn't waste a second of our three days there.
On the first day, we walked the National Mall, covering off the important monuments. We were a bit disappointed at how filthy Washington is - it could be so beautiful if it were just a bit cleaner. One of the Reflecting Ponds (the one outside the Capitol) had been completely drained and the one outside the Lincoln Memorial was unbelievably dirty.
We've become big Lincoln fans while here, so we were pleased that the Lincoln Memorial was beautiful and really reflected the man himself - unlike the Washington Memorial which, while impressive, didn't really seem to relate in any way to Washington. By about 11am our legs and feet were about ready to drop off. The Mall covers a huge area and the heat was stifling. We were particularly thankful for the moments spent inside cafes/museums/shops where the aircon seemed to be set to "Wellington-Winter."
The first museum we got to was one we've both been excited about for a while - the National Science museum. We put our sensible adult personalities away for the day and wandered about the dinosaur exhibit in awe. The highlight for me was a Triceratops skull, but actually seeing Tyrannosaurus Rex's tiny withered little arms was pretty cool. They were all there - a massive brachiosaurus, diplodocus, stegosaurus, pterodactyl.
It was hard to tell who was more excited: us, or the roomful of six year olds. The exhibits are amazing - the earliest 'human' skeleton (I think) called Lucy, woolly mammoths, gigantic sloths - we've got tonnes of stuffed animal photos. The Hope diamond was also pretty cool. We swung past the sculpture garden and sat with our tired feet in the fountain on our way to the National Gallery - we'd just got to the Da Vinci (allegedly the only one in the US) and the Botticellis when the Gallery closed and we had to get out.
The majority of the next day was spent at the Air and Space Museum where again we wandered round like small children, me especially so. The Apollo 11 command module, the Wright Brothers "flyer", and literally dozens of amazing planes, rockets, etc. Charlotte experienced a moment of feminist pride when she spotted the plane Jean Batten flew across the Atlantic and across the US (it's a very stylish red).
We wandered out to the White House (no audience with Obama... he may have been at Burger King), which was very pretty in the distance, and then down Pennsylvania Avenue and back to the Mall to visit the National History Museum. It was unbelievably packed (although the kids seemed a little less riveted here than at the Science and Space Museums). It was pretty good, despite the lack of dinosaurs or space rockets. The original star-spangled banner was a highlight, as was Lincoln's top-hat and the first ladies' inaugural ball-dresses (the queue to see Kermit the Frog and Judy Garland's red shoes was too long, we just glimpsed them in the distance). Back home relatively early to start the daunting task of cleaning and emptying Proud Winston.
We were at the front of the queue the next morning for the National Archives - slightly too early... we were there at 8:30 for a 10am opening. The prospect of a ninety minute wait sent Mark off into the wilderness to find coffee for us. Charlotte was disgusted at American queueing etiquette (or lack thereof). A relatively long but haphazard line had formed, with us at the front. Two teenage girls wandered past everyone and stood in front of us. Charlotte said "This is the front of the queue", the girl replied "Oh. Do you want us to go back there?" Anyway, the queuing and outrage was worth it to see the original Declaration of Independence, Constitution and Bill of Rights - great to see them first hand. The gallery also included an original Magna Carta, off to one side, in a much less auspicious cabinet, with fewer people looking at it. There was also an excellent 'other exhibits' section, including photos (and some videos) of the Presidents as kids. It has to be said that George W. Bush was a very, very cute child. Then a visit to the Hirschhorn Art Museum - the highlight was definitely the Yves Klein exhibition. Followed by the Native American Indian Museum and a visit to the Museum of American Art, which included some awesome Presidential portraits and some 'twentieth-century legend' portraits (including a Marilyn Monroe by Andy Warhol). We also dropped by the Ford Theatre - site of Lincoln's assassination, and waited out a massive rainstorm in the shops.
After a dinner at the Capital Grill, we headed home to get Winston sorted for his dispatch. Our time with him came to a - slightly emotional - end the next morning in a dirty parking lot outside D.C. He was an excellent Sputnik and got us safely (nearly 6000 miles) across the States. We wish him well in future endeavours. Fortunately, we were not charged for the (now three) missing wheel hubs.
We're now in Philadelphia (and loving it). More updates to come.
PS. There are a bunch more WDC photos in the gallery if you're so inclined.
On the first day, we walked the National Mall, covering off the important monuments. We were a bit disappointed at how filthy Washington is - it could be so beautiful if it were just a bit cleaner. One of the Reflecting Ponds (the one outside the Capitol) had been completely drained and the one outside the Lincoln Memorial was unbelievably dirty.
The first museum we got to was one we've both been excited about for a while - the National Science museum. We put our sensible adult personalities away for the day and wandered about the dinosaur exhibit in awe. The highlight for me was a Triceratops skull, but actually seeing Tyrannosaurus Rex's tiny withered little arms was pretty cool. They were all there - a massive brachiosaurus, diplodocus, stegosaurus, pterodactyl.
It was hard to tell who was more excited: us, or the roomful of six year olds. The exhibits are amazing - the earliest 'human' skeleton (I think) called Lucy, woolly mammoths, gigantic sloths - we've got tonnes of stuffed animal photos. The Hope diamond was also pretty cool. We swung past the sculpture garden and sat with our tired feet in the fountain on our way to the National Gallery - we'd just got to the Da Vinci (allegedly the only one in the US) and the Botticellis when the Gallery closed and we had to get out.
The majority of the next day was spent at the Air and Space Museum where again we wandered round like small children, me especially so. The Apollo 11 command module, the Wright Brothers "flyer", and literally dozens of amazing planes, rockets, etc. Charlotte experienced a moment of feminist pride when she spotted the plane Jean Batten flew across the Atlantic and across the US (it's a very stylish red).
We wandered out to the White House (no audience with Obama... he may have been at Burger King), which was very pretty in the distance, and then down Pennsylvania Avenue and back to the Mall to visit the National History Museum. It was unbelievably packed (although the kids seemed a little less riveted here than at the Science and Space Museums). It was pretty good, despite the lack of dinosaurs or space rockets. The original star-spangled banner was a highlight, as was Lincoln's top-hat and the first ladies' inaugural ball-dresses (the queue to see Kermit the Frog and Judy Garland's red shoes was too long, we just glimpsed them in the distance). Back home relatively early to start the daunting task of cleaning and emptying Proud Winston.
We were at the front of the queue the next morning for the National Archives - slightly too early... we were there at 8:30 for a 10am opening. The prospect of a ninety minute wait sent Mark off into the wilderness to find coffee for us. Charlotte was disgusted at American queueing etiquette (or lack thereof). A relatively long but haphazard line had formed, with us at the front. Two teenage girls wandered past everyone and stood in front of us. Charlotte said "This is the front of the queue", the girl replied "Oh. Do you want us to go back there?" Anyway, the queuing and outrage was worth it to see the original Declaration of Independence, Constitution and Bill of Rights - great to see them first hand. The gallery also included an original Magna Carta, off to one side, in a much less auspicious cabinet, with fewer people looking at it. There was also an excellent 'other exhibits' section, including photos (and some videos) of the Presidents as kids. It has to be said that George W. Bush was a very, very cute child. Then a visit to the Hirschhorn Art Museum - the highlight was definitely the Yves Klein exhibition. Followed by the Native American Indian Museum and a visit to the Museum of American Art, which included some awesome Presidential portraits and some 'twentieth-century legend' portraits (including a Marilyn Monroe by Andy Warhol). We also dropped by the Ford Theatre - site of Lincoln's assassination, and waited out a massive rainstorm in the shops.
After a dinner at the Capital Grill, we headed home to get Winston sorted for his dispatch. Our time with him came to a - slightly emotional - end the next morning in a dirty parking lot outside D.C. He was an excellent Sputnik and got us safely (nearly 6000 miles) across the States. We wish him well in future endeavours. Fortunately, we were not charged for the (now three) missing wheel hubs.
We're now in Philadelphia (and loving it). More updates to come.
PS. There are a bunch more WDC photos in the gallery if you're so inclined.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Philly
We'll fill in the gaps (Washington DC) when we need a break from drinking, eating and sightseeing.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Washington and Arlington
For once, we didn't have far to drive today... unfortunately, being on the East Coast now we did have to share what little of the road we had to drive with a lot of people (who seem far less relaxed than their Western and Southern cousins).
The day kicked off at Mount Vernon - George Washington's plantation and family home. Our visit coincided with the visits of a few thousand other people, including a class of Amish kids (at first we thought they were taking part in some sort of reconstruction).
Mt Vernon looks across the Potomac River in Northern Virginia, just a few miles from Washington DC - the view actually made us think of the view from the flagpole at the Treaty grounds in Waitangi. It's a really beautiful site and we were lucky to have a warm, breezy day to wander around the plantation (everyone was complaining about yesterday - apparently it was in the hundreds and unbelievably humid).
Washington, amongst all the other remarkable things about him, seems also to have been a very practical man, who ran a very environmentally friendly and sustainable farm for the time. Unlike Monticello, which had to be sold because of the debt left behind by Thomas Jefferson, Washington left no debt and Mt Vernon was owned by the Washington family for 60 or so years after GW's death and then was sold to a preservation society. So, in comparison, it has fared pretty well and many of the outlying farm buildings have stood the test of time. It's a working farm - there's a full-time blacksmith who makes farm tools etc for the people who work the kitchen gardens, flower gardens and crops. There are also a few animals (all nicely tame), including a donkey.
The house itself was very pretty on the outside, but the 'tour' of the inside was a bit chaotic. Due to the massive crowds, we shuffled through in a claustrophobic line. We were mostly confined to the hallways, looking into the rooms and were in and out within about 25 minutes (but that's what you get when you're on holiday in June). There were two particularly cool items at Mt Vernon - the first was the ACTUAL key to the Bastille in Paris - a gift to George Washington from the Marquis of Lafayette, who once he'd helped out with the American Revolution popped over to France to lend a hand with their one, and took the key as a trinket for George Washington (who was apparently very chuffed with it). The guide didn't know whether Lafayette left the gates locked or unlocked when he pilfered the key. The second was George Washington's very famous wooden dentures (lower jaw only).
We liked George Washington - he quashed suggestions post-Revolution that he become King and took off home to Mt Vernon for a short-lived retirement before being called back into service and ultimately being elected President. I guess we like our leaders humble, like Washington, which is why we left with our regard for him in tact still (unlike Thomas Jefferson). We particularly liked that George Washington freed all of his slaves in his will, and also made provision for things like their ongoing education. Top marks - almost as good as not keeping them in the first place!
It was only twenty or so miles through dense DC-area Friday afternoon traffic to our next stop - Arlington Cemetery. Arlington is massive, full of beautiful trees and monuments and row upon row upon row of graves of soldiers and their families. Not all of those servicemen buried here died in battle, some died of old age, but it's still pretty haunting to see, albeit very pretty. Among those buried here are John. F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, President Taft, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Bobby Kennedy and (more recently) Teddy Kennedy.
Arlington and the stately home on it used to belong to Confederate General Robert E. Lee, who, when offered posts by both sides in the Civil War, picked the Southern States and went South (not without some misgivings on his part - he believed that the Union should remain in tact, but said he had to side with his family and his State and follow Virginia and the secession). The Feds claimed it in 1861 and buried their dead around it so that the Lees could never come back (a slightly sweeping summary, but that's pretty much the gist).
We somehow managed to get through Washington DC traffic to our (last) RV park in Maryland (our 19th state). We have four days here before we give Winston back and head off on the rest of our trip without him. The thought of saying goodbye to Winston is a bit upsetting.
The day kicked off at Mount Vernon - George Washington's plantation and family home. Our visit coincided with the visits of a few thousand other people, including a class of Amish kids (at first we thought they were taking part in some sort of reconstruction).
Mt Vernon looks across the Potomac River in Northern Virginia, just a few miles from Washington DC - the view actually made us think of the view from the flagpole at the Treaty grounds in Waitangi. It's a really beautiful site and we were lucky to have a warm, breezy day to wander around the plantation (everyone was complaining about yesterday - apparently it was in the hundreds and unbelievably humid).
Washington, amongst all the other remarkable things about him, seems also to have been a very practical man, who ran a very environmentally friendly and sustainable farm for the time. Unlike Monticello, which had to be sold because of the debt left behind by Thomas Jefferson, Washington left no debt and Mt Vernon was owned by the Washington family for 60 or so years after GW's death and then was sold to a preservation society. So, in comparison, it has fared pretty well and many of the outlying farm buildings have stood the test of time. It's a working farm - there's a full-time blacksmith who makes farm tools etc for the people who work the kitchen gardens, flower gardens and crops. There are also a few animals (all nicely tame), including a donkey.
The house itself was very pretty on the outside, but the 'tour' of the inside was a bit chaotic. Due to the massive crowds, we shuffled through in a claustrophobic line. We were mostly confined to the hallways, looking into the rooms and were in and out within about 25 minutes (but that's what you get when you're on holiday in June). There were two particularly cool items at Mt Vernon - the first was the ACTUAL key to the Bastille in Paris - a gift to George Washington from the Marquis of Lafayette, who once he'd helped out with the American Revolution popped over to France to lend a hand with their one, and took the key as a trinket for George Washington (who was apparently very chuffed with it). The guide didn't know whether Lafayette left the gates locked or unlocked when he pilfered the key. The second was George Washington's very famous wooden dentures (lower jaw only).
We liked George Washington - he quashed suggestions post-Revolution that he become King and took off home to Mt Vernon for a short-lived retirement before being called back into service and ultimately being elected President. I guess we like our leaders humble, like Washington, which is why we left with our regard for him in tact still (unlike Thomas Jefferson). We particularly liked that George Washington freed all of his slaves in his will, and also made provision for things like their ongoing education. Top marks - almost as good as not keeping them in the first place!
It was only twenty or so miles through dense DC-area Friday afternoon traffic to our next stop - Arlington Cemetery. Arlington is massive, full of beautiful trees and monuments and row upon row upon row of graves of soldiers and their families. Not all of those servicemen buried here died in battle, some died of old age, but it's still pretty haunting to see, albeit very pretty. Among those buried here are John. F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, President Taft, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Bobby Kennedy and (more recently) Teddy Kennedy.
Arlington and the stately home on it used to belong to Confederate General Robert E. Lee, who, when offered posts by both sides in the Civil War, picked the Southern States and went South (not without some misgivings on his part - he believed that the Union should remain in tact, but said he had to side with his family and his State and follow Virginia and the secession). The Feds claimed it in 1861 and buried their dead around it so that the Lees could never come back (a slightly sweeping summary, but that's pretty much the gist).
We somehow managed to get through Washington DC traffic to our (last) RV park in Maryland (our 19th state). We have four days here before we give Winston back and head off on the rest of our trip without him. The thought of saying goodbye to Winston is a bit upsetting.
Friday, June 25, 2010
East Coast Catchup
This is the first post where I've had to go back and check where we've been. It has been a busy few days, with limited amounts of internet (and other priorities when we did have it). With that in mind, excuse the long post!
Here's the map...
We left Savannah, Georgia, and drove North along the coast into South Carolina. The coast, when you get close enough to see it, is quite tidal and there are a lot of inlets and mudflats. We crossed John Island and parked up at the James Island Campground.
We got a taxi into Charleston and were entertained by the driver who, as a "Son of the Confederacy" member, had a few things to say about the Civil War (number one: "We don't call it the 'Civil War', we call it the 'War of Northern Aggression'"). South Carolina was the first state to secede from the Union and was dealt to harshly by the North as punishment. Everyone here has an opinion on the War and it doesn't take much to get them to share it. He had served in the armed forces, which became apparent when, while waiting at lights, a train could be heard approaching and the train barrier arm across the intersection began its decent. He stopped mid-rant to say "Where are you, you SOB?" swerved wildly to the left, sped down two blocks until he got to a barrier arm which was just beginning its descent and got us over the train-tracks with no further delay.
Fort Sumter, where the first shots of the Civil War were fired, is in the middle of the Charleston Harbour and our trip there was well timed as a thunderstorm crashed over Charleston. When the rain here comes, it is very heavy, but very isolated and doesn't last long. There's not much to the island really, but it was an interesting trip marred only slightly by some of the worst behaved children ever.
The rest of time in Charleston was spent wandering around the historical streets. One interesting sight of the afternoon was a woman at a bar with a squirrel on a leash (in a little harness). Charleston is really beautiful - big old historical buildings (including a pirate prison - Blackbeard himself menaced the local waterways) and a number of beautiful homes (still inhabited and many up for sale) including the famous "Rainbow Row", a block of houses across from the waterfront all painted in pastel colours. It was awfully hot so we cooled down by paddling in the fountain with some local kids.
Georgetown, slightly further up the coast, was the next stop for coffee, cake, a book, and bread. It was a surprisingly pretty little town (dependent on you facing away from the smoking factory chimneys on one side of the river). The other side of Georgetown, however, is strikingly pretty, full of artisan-style shops and friendly locals.
In stark contrast was Myrtle Beach where, according to Lonely Planet, you can see "whole families roasting like chickens on the white sand". It's the southern version of Jersey Shore. Again, a thunderstorm loomed in the background, but we did manage to wade in the Atlantic and eat a hot dog on the boardwalk. We stayed the night at Lumberton, a nowhere kind of place just over the state line in North Carolina.
The next morning we drove further North. First stop was an impromptu - "hey, there's a battlefield" - one which proved interesting and entertaining. Civil War battlefields are peppered all over this part of the US and this was one of them. Averasboro Battlefield now has a small, interesting museum staffed by an older volunteer who was glad to see us and showed us round the exhibits and pointed us in the direction of the battle sites.
From there, we had a slightly stressful drive into the centre of Raleigh, the Capital of NC, home to narrow streets, inappropriately placed trees, excellent icecream (swirl freeze), and dinosaur bones (and a fossilised dinosaur heart). We dashed into the Museum of Natural Sciences, saw the Acrocanthosaurus and got out.
We got into Mebane around 6 and met up with Charlotte's friend Lefty and his wife Kat. They showed us some real Southern Hospitality with our first home cooked dinner (other than in Winston) in over a month. We had drinks out in Greensboro, and went for an entertaining breakfast at Cracker Barrel - the "Old Country Store." It was originally recommended to us by an old bloke at some visitor centre a few states back, so I have been harping on about it - and Lefty had a lot of enthusiasm for it as well. It's very "down home" food, but delicious, and as bonus you can sit on the front porch in a rocking chair and place checkers. It was great to see/meet Lefty and Kat - the youngest people we've hung out with since May. It was also good to get some answers to pressing questions we'd been saving up especially for them (Kat is a doctor and Mark had some health system questions for her, and Charlotte wanted to pick Lefty's lawyers brain on Constitutional issues. We both wanted to hear what they had to say about Walmart).
I know this post is becoming a novel, but bear with me, only two more days to go!
We visited Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. The Americans are very proud of Thomas Jefferson - and rightfully so - he did draft the Declaration of Independence, amongst many notable achievements (including inventing the swivelly office chair). He had rated fifth on Charlotte's favourite Presidents list, until we went to Monticello.
It may have been the way the tour was narrated but he sounded like he was a bit smug (e.g.: the tour guide told us that the portraits on the wall were of people TJ thought were important, and he ranked them so the more important they were, the higher they were up the wall. Jefferson had placed George Washington, Benjamin Franklin and his own portrait amongst those highest up on the wall.... two rows above Jesus and one row above "Lady Liberty". We headed down the road and stayed the night in an out the back of beyond campground in Virginia.
Today, we've been in Richmond. In 1861-65, Richmond was home to the Confederate Government and we visited what Charlotte is now calling (jokingly) the real White House - where Jefferson Davis served his 4 years as President. Aside from the actual history, the tour guide told us that Davis' children were poorly disciplined and one (aged 5) was the proud owner of what can only be described as a Cannonette - about 6 inches long but still with enough fire power to kill someone. A visit to Monument Avenue - a mile long stretch of road dubbed the "Champs Elysees of Richmond" - which is lined by some of the most beautiful real estate we have seen here (other than Savannah, probably) and also broken up intermittently by heroes of the Civil War, of the Confederate side only of course.
Virginia is lovely - so amazingly full of history... but we both miss the South already.
Here's the map...
We left Savannah, Georgia, and drove North along the coast into South Carolina. The coast, when you get close enough to see it, is quite tidal and there are a lot of inlets and mudflats. We crossed John Island and parked up at the James Island Campground.
We got a taxi into Charleston and were entertained by the driver who, as a "Son of the Confederacy" member, had a few things to say about the Civil War (number one: "We don't call it the 'Civil War', we call it the 'War of Northern Aggression'"). South Carolina was the first state to secede from the Union and was dealt to harshly by the North as punishment. Everyone here has an opinion on the War and it doesn't take much to get them to share it. He had served in the armed forces, which became apparent when, while waiting at lights, a train could be heard approaching and the train barrier arm across the intersection began its decent. He stopped mid-rant to say "Where are you, you SOB?" swerved wildly to the left, sped down two blocks until he got to a barrier arm which was just beginning its descent and got us over the train-tracks with no further delay.
Fort Sumter, where the first shots of the Civil War were fired, is in the middle of the Charleston Harbour and our trip there was well timed as a thunderstorm crashed over Charleston. When the rain here comes, it is very heavy, but very isolated and doesn't last long. There's not much to the island really, but it was an interesting trip marred only slightly by some of the worst behaved children ever.
The rest of time in Charleston was spent wandering around the historical streets. One interesting sight of the afternoon was a woman at a bar with a squirrel on a leash (in a little harness). Charleston is really beautiful - big old historical buildings (including a pirate prison - Blackbeard himself menaced the local waterways) and a number of beautiful homes (still inhabited and many up for sale) including the famous "Rainbow Row", a block of houses across from the waterfront all painted in pastel colours. It was awfully hot so we cooled down by paddling in the fountain with some local kids.
Georgetown, slightly further up the coast, was the next stop for coffee, cake, a book, and bread. It was a surprisingly pretty little town (dependent on you facing away from the smoking factory chimneys on one side of the river). The other side of Georgetown, however, is strikingly pretty, full of artisan-style shops and friendly locals.
In stark contrast was Myrtle Beach where, according to Lonely Planet, you can see "whole families roasting like chickens on the white sand". It's the southern version of Jersey Shore. Again, a thunderstorm loomed in the background, but we did manage to wade in the Atlantic and eat a hot dog on the boardwalk. We stayed the night at Lumberton, a nowhere kind of place just over the state line in North Carolina.
From there, we had a slightly stressful drive into the centre of Raleigh, the Capital of NC, home to narrow streets, inappropriately placed trees, excellent icecream (swirl freeze), and dinosaur bones (and a fossilised dinosaur heart). We dashed into the Museum of Natural Sciences, saw the Acrocanthosaurus and got out.
We got into Mebane around 6 and met up with Charlotte's friend Lefty and his wife Kat. They showed us some real Southern Hospitality with our first home cooked dinner (other than in Winston) in over a month. We had drinks out in Greensboro, and went for an entertaining breakfast at Cracker Barrel - the "Old Country Store." It was originally recommended to us by an old bloke at some visitor centre a few states back, so I have been harping on about it - and Lefty had a lot of enthusiasm for it as well. It's very "down home" food, but delicious, and as bonus you can sit on the front porch in a rocking chair and place checkers. It was great to see/meet Lefty and Kat - the youngest people we've hung out with since May. It was also good to get some answers to pressing questions we'd been saving up especially for them (Kat is a doctor and Mark had some health system questions for her, and Charlotte wanted to pick Lefty's lawyers brain on Constitutional issues. We both wanted to hear what they had to say about Walmart).
I know this post is becoming a novel, but bear with me, only two more days to go!
We visited Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. The Americans are very proud of Thomas Jefferson - and rightfully so - he did draft the Declaration of Independence, amongst many notable achievements (including inventing the swivelly office chair). He had rated fifth on Charlotte's favourite Presidents list, until we went to Monticello.
It may have been the way the tour was narrated but he sounded like he was a bit smug (e.g.: the tour guide told us that the portraits on the wall were of people TJ thought were important, and he ranked them so the more important they were, the higher they were up the wall. Jefferson had placed George Washington, Benjamin Franklin and his own portrait amongst those highest up on the wall.... two rows above Jesus and one row above "Lady Liberty". We headed down the road and stayed the night in an out the back of beyond campground in Virginia.
Today, we've been in Richmond. In 1861-65, Richmond was home to the Confederate Government and we visited what Charlotte is now calling (jokingly) the real White House - where Jefferson Davis served his 4 years as President. Aside from the actual history, the tour guide told us that Davis' children were poorly disciplined and one (aged 5) was the proud owner of what can only be described as a Cannonette - about 6 inches long but still with enough fire power to kill someone. A visit to Monument Avenue - a mile long stretch of road dubbed the "Champs Elysees of Richmond" - which is lined by some of the most beautiful real estate we have seen here (other than Savannah, probably) and also broken up intermittently by heroes of the Civil War, of the Confederate side only of course.
Virginia is lovely - so amazingly full of history... but we both miss the South already.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Across the Bible Belt
The drive across Tennessee from Memphis to Nashville got started with a bit of excitement - we got pulled over by the State Troopers. We hadn't done anything wrong (of course), but Mark was a bit nervous all the same when the big burly trooper came up to us with his bullet-proof vest on, backed up by his three mates, all armed of course. He just want to have a chat, check our papers, and warn us of the dangers of big trucks, and then we were on our way again.
We are struggling somewhat with the radio stations in the Bible Belt. There are very limited choices - either extreme religious preaching or extreme political rants. While we do not know enough about US politics to be able to have any real opinion on who is right or wrong, many of the political radio stations are appalling. Listeners are constantly bombarded with high-level ranting, angry negative comments devoid of reason and logic, and criticism of people (and occasionally policies). It's actually quite scary. Coverage of the oil spill continues to be interesting - a Texan Senator came out and apologised to BP for the $20bn aid fund, calling it a 'shake-down'. He appears to be alone in this view (maybe something to do with his "Big Oil" campaign backers) and the Republican leadership may have had a chat with him, as he retracted his statements later.
The trip to Nashville was fairly uneventful - on the Interstate all the way, so no great scenery which inevitably meant Charlotte fell asleep. Mark was pretty exhausted by the time we got to our campground on the outskirts of Nashville, so after a refresher nap, we got the shuttle into downtown Nashville. Our driver was called Jerry - top bloke. The only other passengers were a couple from New Jersey, who had just celebrated their 51st wedding anniversary. We had a great chat - the NJ husband's face lit up when he saw the haunts where Johnny Cash would drink. We had an in-depth discussion about Elvis (I played to the crowd and said that his demise seemed to happen because he'd had nothing as a child and then he had too much, and no-one was interested in helping him, just in making money off him. This went down well, NJ husband was a bit Elvis fan), and they recommended a great show for us to see in NYC.
Jerry, the driver, was great - instead of just dropping us at the stop, he took us on a wee tour of Nashville, gave us the skinny, showed us the best bars, told us who was playing (there are at least 12 bands playing downtown at any one time, all hoping to make it big), who was worth listening to, and most importantly, where to eat.
Just after we got out of Jerry's shuttle and started wandering through town, it became abundantly clear that a major thunderstorm was imminent. So we ducked into Tootsie's, a Nashville institution. Tootsie's backs onto the Ryman's theatre where many a great has played regular shows. Cash apparently used to duck out of Ryman's and duck into the back entrance to Tootsie's. On Thursday evening, a great country band was playing - four guys in their 60s (one who was apparently still in his pyjamas) and a smoking hot blonde in her thirties on vocals. We sat and whiled away the storm with a beer (we've taken to drinking Shiner beers from Texas - really good) and some excellent music.
Mark had been hankering after some cowboy gears - his new cowboy shirt apparently was not sufficient, and having decided that $400US was too much to spend on cowboy boots he may never wear, he had settled on a cowboy hat. So we whiled away an hour or so looking for a suitable hat. In the end he settled for a broad, steeply brimmed black hat (see earlier post). He can actually work it - I may be a bit biased, but I think it looks great, and he has had any number of comments from random locals here in Georgia complimenting him on his hat (my favourite was today in downtown Savannah, a really tough looking bloke yells out across the street "You got yourself a great hat there, young man!").
We popped into an Irish bar, where we met an Irish bar-tender, a rather charming and eccentric fellow who behaved as if you had come into his home for a drink, and two of his friends. We got into a chat about political radio stations and open-carrying of weapons. Tennessee has (recently, by the sounds) banned the open-carrying of weapons in bars - this has apparently garnered some opposition. Demo's for dinner - a firm suggestion from Jerry the driver, and we have since decided that we will always ask drivers where to eat and always go with what they recommend. Demo's was great - homestyle lemonades, Mark had the 7oz (almost all food and drink here is described by weight) sirloin, with the novel side of spaghetti and meat-balls, while I had Santa Fe chicken and broccoli. It was tasty, the staff were great and the bill came in at under $25 for both of us.
After a wander to the Cumberland river front and a thorough investigation of Broadway and Tubb's record shop, we met Jerry for the ride home. He filled us in on everything to know about Nashville (big printing industry: bibles, big healthcare industry: insurance), and told us when we got home that we were a lovely couple.
Friday was a big driving day - leaving Nashville and heading south, we stopped at Walmart for supplies and headed into Alabama. Our revised trip plan meant we didn't really have much time in Alabama - just the afternoon, really. We had a good meander around the back-country roads in the north east, and what we saw was really beautiful. Cute little, and some not so little houses with typical screen-doors and flags out front. Church after church after church - even the smallest communities have multiple churches, at times it seems that there are more churches than people. Green, lush trees and shrubs and lots of beautiful waterways. Alabama, or what we saw of it anyway, was surprisingly picturesque. Mark was overcome by one of his "let's go where that sign-post is pointing!" moods and we ended up at Russell Cave - a surprisingly large cave in which evidence of human life dates back to 10,000BC. It was a nice wander in the woods and back out again for lunch.
It was just before eating lunch that we noticed that, in Alabama, denim dungarees are quite often worn by people that are not toddlers. This is the next item on Mark's shopping list, although, disappointingly, Walmart only seems to stock them in XXXXL, slightly too large for Mark.
Back on the road and into Georgia. We drove past Atlanta (looked really smoggy) and to our campground - had another of those 'Oh, we're in a different time-zone' moments, and put our clocks forward.
We'll blame the timezone thing for our inability to get up this morning - it's a Saturday, so we reckon we're allowed a sleep-in too. Nine o'clock is a bit late to get up when you need to hit the road, so we figured we may as well be really late and stopped in at the local Waffle House. We finally found what grits are - corn soaked in water til the husks come off, or somesuch. Looks a bit like really white porridge. Anyway, we don't like them, but the waffles were good. The locals are super friendly in Georgia - when Mark asked whether he could get poached eggs, our waitress said "You can have'em however you want'em, baby".
We did our usual thing an stopped at a Visitor Centre in the middle of nowhere - we're not sure whether these places are staffed on a volunteer basis, but the attendants are usually lovely elderly ladies. They sorted us out with state maps, plenty of recommendations, and (as usual) insisted we sign the visitor book when they found out we were from New Zealand.
On arrival in Savannah, we stopped again at the Visitor Centre. The man who helped us was unbelievable, got us sorted for the cheap RV parking, the free transport and summarised exactly where we needed to go. About ten minutes after we got off the shuttle it became apparent we were in for another major thunder storm, but it held out for a half hour or so.
Savannah is absolutely stunning - hands down the prettiest town we've been in yet - there are about 20 parks in the historic downtown, each one prettier than the last, with statues, massive trees dripping in Spanish moss, frolicking squirrels and surrounded by amazing (and super-expensive) period homes. As it's a Saturday, almost every park seemed to have a wedding going on in it - most of them looking skyward and hoping the rain would hold off. We managed to locate a bar on the Savannah River to have a beer while the storm passed. Wandering around Savannah felt like we'd stepped back in town - the epitome of Southern charm - although it has a slightly alternative underbelly. Savannah was once described as 'a pretty lady with a dirty face' - she seemed pretty clean today. I'd probably describe her as a pretty lady with a pierced eyebrow.
On arrival at our campground, we discovered that the storm had caused a power outage - its pretty hot to be without air conditioning but we've suffered through it. It's back on now, allowing us to post this.
We are struggling somewhat with the radio stations in the Bible Belt. There are very limited choices - either extreme religious preaching or extreme political rants. While we do not know enough about US politics to be able to have any real opinion on who is right or wrong, many of the political radio stations are appalling. Listeners are constantly bombarded with high-level ranting, angry negative comments devoid of reason and logic, and criticism of people (and occasionally policies). It's actually quite scary. Coverage of the oil spill continues to be interesting - a Texan Senator came out and apologised to BP for the $20bn aid fund, calling it a 'shake-down'. He appears to be alone in this view (maybe something to do with his "Big Oil" campaign backers) and the Republican leadership may have had a chat with him, as he retracted his statements later.
The trip to Nashville was fairly uneventful - on the Interstate all the way, so no great scenery which inevitably meant Charlotte fell asleep. Mark was pretty exhausted by the time we got to our campground on the outskirts of Nashville, so after a refresher nap, we got the shuttle into downtown Nashville. Our driver was called Jerry - top bloke. The only other passengers were a couple from New Jersey, who had just celebrated their 51st wedding anniversary. We had a great chat - the NJ husband's face lit up when he saw the haunts where Johnny Cash would drink. We had an in-depth discussion about Elvis (I played to the crowd and said that his demise seemed to happen because he'd had nothing as a child and then he had too much, and no-one was interested in helping him, just in making money off him. This went down well, NJ husband was a bit Elvis fan), and they recommended a great show for us to see in NYC.
Jerry, the driver, was great - instead of just dropping us at the stop, he took us on a wee tour of Nashville, gave us the skinny, showed us the best bars, told us who was playing (there are at least 12 bands playing downtown at any one time, all hoping to make it big), who was worth listening to, and most importantly, where to eat.
Just after we got out of Jerry's shuttle and started wandering through town, it became abundantly clear that a major thunderstorm was imminent. So we ducked into Tootsie's, a Nashville institution. Tootsie's backs onto the Ryman's theatre where many a great has played regular shows. Cash apparently used to duck out of Ryman's and duck into the back entrance to Tootsie's. On Thursday evening, a great country band was playing - four guys in their 60s (one who was apparently still in his pyjamas) and a smoking hot blonde in her thirties on vocals. We sat and whiled away the storm with a beer (we've taken to drinking Shiner beers from Texas - really good) and some excellent music.
Mark had been hankering after some cowboy gears - his new cowboy shirt apparently was not sufficient, and having decided that $400US was too much to spend on cowboy boots he may never wear, he had settled on a cowboy hat. So we whiled away an hour or so looking for a suitable hat. In the end he settled for a broad, steeply brimmed black hat (see earlier post). He can actually work it - I may be a bit biased, but I think it looks great, and he has had any number of comments from random locals here in Georgia complimenting him on his hat (my favourite was today in downtown Savannah, a really tough looking bloke yells out across the street "You got yourself a great hat there, young man!").
We popped into an Irish bar, where we met an Irish bar-tender, a rather charming and eccentric fellow who behaved as if you had come into his home for a drink, and two of his friends. We got into a chat about political radio stations and open-carrying of weapons. Tennessee has (recently, by the sounds) banned the open-carrying of weapons in bars - this has apparently garnered some opposition. Demo's for dinner - a firm suggestion from Jerry the driver, and we have since decided that we will always ask drivers where to eat and always go with what they recommend. Demo's was great - homestyle lemonades, Mark had the 7oz (almost all food and drink here is described by weight) sirloin, with the novel side of spaghetti and meat-balls, while I had Santa Fe chicken and broccoli. It was tasty, the staff were great and the bill came in at under $25 for both of us.
After a wander to the Cumberland river front and a thorough investigation of Broadway and Tubb's record shop, we met Jerry for the ride home. He filled us in on everything to know about Nashville (big printing industry: bibles, big healthcare industry: insurance), and told us when we got home that we were a lovely couple.
Friday was a big driving day - leaving Nashville and heading south, we stopped at Walmart for supplies and headed into Alabama. Our revised trip plan meant we didn't really have much time in Alabama - just the afternoon, really. We had a good meander around the back-country roads in the north east, and what we saw was really beautiful. Cute little, and some not so little houses with typical screen-doors and flags out front. Church after church after church - even the smallest communities have multiple churches, at times it seems that there are more churches than people. Green, lush trees and shrubs and lots of beautiful waterways. Alabama, or what we saw of it anyway, was surprisingly picturesque. Mark was overcome by one of his "let's go where that sign-post is pointing!" moods and we ended up at Russell Cave - a surprisingly large cave in which evidence of human life dates back to 10,000BC. It was a nice wander in the woods and back out again for lunch.
Back on the road and into Georgia. We drove past Atlanta (looked really smoggy) and to our campground - had another of those 'Oh, we're in a different time-zone' moments, and put our clocks forward.
We'll blame the timezone thing for our inability to get up this morning - it's a Saturday, so we reckon we're allowed a sleep-in too. Nine o'clock is a bit late to get up when you need to hit the road, so we figured we may as well be really late and stopped in at the local Waffle House. We finally found what grits are - corn soaked in water til the husks come off, or somesuch. Looks a bit like really white porridge. Anyway, we don't like them, but the waffles were good. The locals are super friendly in Georgia - when Mark asked whether he could get poached eggs, our waitress said "You can have'em however you want'em, baby".
We did our usual thing an stopped at a Visitor Centre in the middle of nowhere - we're not sure whether these places are staffed on a volunteer basis, but the attendants are usually lovely elderly ladies. They sorted us out with state maps, plenty of recommendations, and (as usual) insisted we sign the visitor book when they found out we were from New Zealand.
On arrival in Savannah, we stopped again at the Visitor Centre. The man who helped us was unbelievable, got us sorted for the cheap RV parking, the free transport and summarised exactly where we needed to go. About ten minutes after we got off the shuttle it became apparent we were in for another major thunder storm, but it held out for a half hour or so.
Savannah is absolutely stunning - hands down the prettiest town we've been in yet - there are about 20 parks in the historic downtown, each one prettier than the last, with statues, massive trees dripping in Spanish moss, frolicking squirrels and surrounded by amazing (and super-expensive) period homes. As it's a Saturday, almost every park seemed to have a wedding going on in it - most of them looking skyward and hoping the rain would hold off. We managed to locate a bar on the Savannah River to have a beer while the storm passed. Wandering around Savannah felt like we'd stepped back in town - the epitome of Southern charm - although it has a slightly alternative underbelly. Savannah was once described as 'a pretty lady with a dirty face' - she seemed pretty clean today. I'd probably describe her as a pretty lady with a pierced eyebrow.
On arrival at our campground, we discovered that the storm had caused a power outage - its pretty hot to be without air conditioning but we've suffered through it. It's back on now, allowing us to post this.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Legends of Memphis
Today started just next door, at Graceland. Neither of us is a big Elvis fan, nor do we come from families of Elvis fans, so our expectations were pretty low - but we really enjoyed it.
The Graceland mansion itself is actually quite unassuming - it looks like a family lived in it. Elvis had the same white couches for nearly 20 years. Of course, you can't describe the Jungle Room, with its green shagpile carpeting on the floor and ceiling and its inside waterfall as unassuming, but it's actually not as bizarre as you'd expect. Elvis came across as a fun loving family man, who spent his money on his mates, his mum, charities, and of course, toys (20 golf karts, assorted cars, 2 jets, snowmobiles converted to run on grass). You kind of got the impression that he'd grown up poor, and he was like a kid in a candy shop once he got money, but he always shared it around. His mother, father and grandmother all lived at Graceland with him, and are all buried there with him too.
His car collection was extensive, and many of his vehicles also appeared in the films he starred in. There were Ferraris, Rolls Royces, a white Lincoln with gold alligator skin-effect roof, a John Deere tractor, an MG, to name just a few. The Lisa Marie aeroplane is also at Graceland - and you can go on board. Like Graceland itself, it's a freeze-frame display of 70s style.
Mark was quite inspired by the extensive collection of Elvis' onesies and other clothing - expect some major changes in this area. The second half of 2010 should involve capes, coiffes and gold-studded everything.
Disappointingly, though, we haven't seen a single Elvis impersonator.
We went into Downtown Memphis and after a quick wander along Beale St, headed to the National Civil Rights Museum. It's located at the old Lorraine Motel, where Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. Much like the JFK exhibit, the site of Dr King's assassination has been preserved - it runs a chill down the spine to see it.
The first part of the museum is a recent short film about the last few days of King's life. Most of the film is a series of interviews with Rev. Billy Kyles - a Memphis preacher who was at the epicentre of the Memphis sanitation workers' strike - the reason King was in town. Rev. Kyles was a friend of Dr King but also a co-combatant in the struggle for civil rights in the shockingly segregated south. Rev. Kyles was standing next to Dr King when he was shot and killed on April 4 1968. The film was very moving, and set the scene well for the museum exhibits which focused on the struggle for equal rights for African Americans from the Civil War through to the 60s - Rosa Parks, Ole Miss, etc.
We really enjoyed the Museum, but the major highlight was exiting and seeing a familiar face next to the gift shop. Mark spotted him first - and we couldn't quite believe it. The Rev. Billy Kyles was standing greeting visitors to the museum and chatting away. We were pretty excited. We got him to sign the DVD of the film that we'd bought and had a lovely chat with him. He was a charming, well-spoken, impeccably dressed gentleman - it was hard to believe we were chatting to a living legend, who had witnessed and precipitated such world-changing events. Although he still works full time as a preacher, Rev. Kyles (who is approaching 80) still makes time to come down to the National Civil Rights Museum and talk to the people about Dr King, and their cause - because as he says, it's not really over yet.
Feeling quite excited by our luck at meeting the Reverend, we headed back into Beale St where we dined, had a beer or two and listened to some amazing local blues acts. Beale Street is a much more sanitary version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, although it's more authentic and has its own blues-y edge. It's a nicer place to hang out, really.
Photos to come.
The Graceland mansion itself is actually quite unassuming - it looks like a family lived in it. Elvis had the same white couches for nearly 20 years. Of course, you can't describe the Jungle Room, with its green shagpile carpeting on the floor and ceiling and its inside waterfall as unassuming, but it's actually not as bizarre as you'd expect. Elvis came across as a fun loving family man, who spent his money on his mates, his mum, charities, and of course, toys (20 golf karts, assorted cars, 2 jets, snowmobiles converted to run on grass). You kind of got the impression that he'd grown up poor, and he was like a kid in a candy shop once he got money, but he always shared it around. His mother, father and grandmother all lived at Graceland with him, and are all buried there with him too.
His car collection was extensive, and many of his vehicles also appeared in the films he starred in. There were Ferraris, Rolls Royces, a white Lincoln with gold alligator skin-effect roof, a John Deere tractor, an MG, to name just a few. The Lisa Marie aeroplane is also at Graceland - and you can go on board. Like Graceland itself, it's a freeze-frame display of 70s style.
Mark was quite inspired by the extensive collection of Elvis' onesies and other clothing - expect some major changes in this area. The second half of 2010 should involve capes, coiffes and gold-studded everything.
Disappointingly, though, we haven't seen a single Elvis impersonator.
We went into Downtown Memphis and after a quick wander along Beale St, headed to the National Civil Rights Museum. It's located at the old Lorraine Motel, where Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. Much like the JFK exhibit, the site of Dr King's assassination has been preserved - it runs a chill down the spine to see it.
The first part of the museum is a recent short film about the last few days of King's life. Most of the film is a series of interviews with Rev. Billy Kyles - a Memphis preacher who was at the epicentre of the Memphis sanitation workers' strike - the reason King was in town. Rev. Kyles was a friend of Dr King but also a co-combatant in the struggle for civil rights in the shockingly segregated south. Rev. Kyles was standing next to Dr King when he was shot and killed on April 4 1968. The film was very moving, and set the scene well for the museum exhibits which focused on the struggle for equal rights for African Americans from the Civil War through to the 60s - Rosa Parks, Ole Miss, etc.
We really enjoyed the Museum, but the major highlight was exiting and seeing a familiar face next to the gift shop. Mark spotted him first - and we couldn't quite believe it. The Rev. Billy Kyles was standing greeting visitors to the museum and chatting away. We were pretty excited. We got him to sign the DVD of the film that we'd bought and had a lovely chat with him. He was a charming, well-spoken, impeccably dressed gentleman - it was hard to believe we were chatting to a living legend, who had witnessed and precipitated such world-changing events. Although he still works full time as a preacher, Rev. Kyles (who is approaching 80) still makes time to come down to the National Civil Rights Museum and talk to the people about Dr King, and their cause - because as he says, it's not really over yet.
Feeling quite excited by our luck at meeting the Reverend, we headed back into Beale St where we dined, had a beer or two and listened to some amazing local blues acts. Beale Street is a much more sanitary version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, although it's more authentic and has its own blues-y edge. It's a nicer place to hang out, really.
Photos to come.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Mississippi
Our Vicksburg RV park is owned by a casino, and part of the deal (included in the price of the already very reasonable campground) was a free buffet breakfast across the road at the casino.
Our experiences so far of "free" stuff offered by casinos was our four-hour timeshare presentation in Las Vegas, so we were somewhat dubious about our buffet breakfast. That said, we're cheap and on a budget, so we thought we'd give it a hoon. Turned out the breakfast was pretty amazing - omelettes made to order, every imaginable type of breakfast food you could want (including M&Ms) and as much of it as you wanted! Free! Despite the fact we stocked up at Walmart yesterday, we decided to eat ourselves stupid and save our food for tomorrow, so Mark loaded his French toast with piles of whipped cream. No-one tried to make us gamble, or invest in anything, everyone was extremely pleasant and attentive. We wondered if somehow we'd slipped through their net.
Back on the road (briefly) and to Vicksburg National Military Park - another triumph of the National Park Service (if you can 'be a fan' of the NPS on Facebook, then that's the first thing I'm doing when I get home). The Park is set on the site of the Confederate defensive line at Vicksburg - its stronghold on the Mississippi, and as Abe Lincoln put it, the key to winning the Civil war. After a number of attempts to take Vicksburg failed, Gen Ulysses S. Grant and the Union forces from the North laid siege to Vicksburg from late May 1863 until 4 July, cutting off the Southerners' supply sources and gradually starving them into surrender. The Park itself is a beautiful rolling green landscape - the myriad trenches are still present but have softened in most places to gentle sloping zig-zags, leafy trees now fill the gap between each side's front line. Original restored cannons used at the battle dot the landscape, as do numerous monuments marking the efforts and lives of the men on both sides. It was astounding to see the markers for the huge number of battles and skirmishes that took place and the large number of men that were there - they must have almost been fighting elbow to elbow - and in some places the Union troops sneakily dug trenches as close at 15 feet to their waiting enemies.
We got chatting to a gentleman by the name of George, a Civil War reconstruction participant and history buff. He filled us in on some of the details and historical points and, as has been the case with every American we've got chatting to so far, provided us with a unique, honest and refreshing insight into this country.
At the top of the Park is the USS Cairo, an iron-clad flat-bottom warship which infiltrated the Mississippi for the Union side for less than a year before it became the first victim of a remote torpedo, made of a glass demi-john filled with gunpowder and set off by the Confederates on shore. It lay in the silt at the bottom of the Yahzoo for nearly a century before it was dredged up, along with all manner of guns, shoes, medical instruments and belt-buckles and put on display. The USS Cairo is just over a small carpark from the National Cemetery of Vicksburg, where the remains of about 15,000 Union soldiers lie - unfortunately only about 12,000 are identified. Soldiers from WW1, WW2, the Korean War and Vietnam can also be found there. The cemetery is beautiful and probably worth a good few hours' of wandering on its own.
At the visitors' centre on the way out, we noticed a group of young men dressed in Civil War soldier style clothing. On closer inspection, they were demonstrating the firing of a Civil War cannon, as they do with the help of local volunteers every day over the summer - a tradition that dates back over 40 years. One very eager 11 year old was keen to fill us in on the details, called us Sir and Ma'am, and had his patter (picked up from the supervising ranger) down pat. He was so earnest and lovely - his response to the question "Are those woolen pants hot in this heat?" was about 4 minutes long, explained exactly what the pants were made of, what Union solders pants were made of versus Confederate pants, which ones would catch fire more easily and ended with "and they are extremely hot".
We ended up spending about 5 hours at Vicksburg - I'd done a bit of Civil War reading before we went and was quite excited about it (if I'd been born a boy in Vicksburg, I'd probably have volunteered to wear extremely hot part-denim, part-wool Confederate-style pants that would not catch light and fire the cannon too). It's OK though, Mark would almost definitely be a Civil War reconstructionist).
The rest of the day was spent driving the length of Mississippi - past acres and acres of rich green farmland, and pretty much no towns. What we did see at times looked quite poor, but Mississippi is undeniably beautiful. The roadkill is interesting - the usual armadillos, but also baby alligators and we also saw a coyote run across the road (he made it to the other side though). The locals here are as we've found everywhere in the South (and all over the USA) - really friendly, although the accents here are really difficult - long on vowels, short on consonants, big on attitude. We were heading to Memphis, principally to check out Graceland, so Winston's sound-system was thrashed and we covered the Mississippi Delta singing "we're going to Graceland, Graceland, Memphis Tennessee, We're going to Graceland".
We're now parked at the Graceland RV park, on "Don't be Cruel Street" to be exact, about 20 metres from Graceland itself. The RV park loud speakers are set to the "Non-stop Elvis" station, the bar down the road is called "Heart Break Hotel" which can be found (you guessed it) on "Lonely Street".
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The Big Easy
It's been a few excellent days since our last post and we're now in Vicksburg, Mississippi.
We've been in New Orleans for the last three nights and those who've been there will know why there's been a lack of posting. The first guy we met sitting on a doorstep in the French Quarter drawled "y'like Bourbon street?" and when we said yes he came back with "w'chout boy, it'll kick yur ass." It was good advice.
Our RV park ("resort") was right in the French Quarter amazingly close to all the action, very plush, secured with razor wire, and a price to match. We spent almost all our time cruising the small streets of the French Quarter eating and drinking up a storm. So much so, that an actual storm arrived. Although short-lived, it was quite an experience with loads of thunder and lightening right over us (safely sheltered in Winston).
New Orleans was a great experience. We ate out for every meal, forcing ourselves to have three per day (and a meal each at every sitting!). The food is delicious. Beignet for breakfast at Cafe Du Monde (so good that they feature on the wikipedia page for Beignet), Po' Boys for lunch at Mothers (on the recommendation of a taxi driver) and Gumbo, Crawfish Ettouffee, Blackened Catfish, Jambalaya, etc for dinners. I'd recommend crawfish, despite the name, it's like a little lobster, but cheaper.
It was a very relaxing few days with lazy starts, siestas (very necessary in the 35ish heat), swims in the beautiful resort pool, and pre-dinner drinks at Cafe Pontalba on Jackson Square.
Bourbon Street and the surrounding area is a huge party every night of the week with hundreds of people competing with other pedestrians, cars and horses for space on the tiny streets. It's a great atmosphere with live music coming from bars, voodoo tour guides and their tour groups, buskers, and of course punters like us wandering about. On Sunday night we came across a group of musicians and dancers putting on a real show in the middle of a street.
Aside from the gorging ourselves silly we managed to get to the Gardens District (massive houses, and home of Sandra Bullock) and the Mardi Gras Museum. Mardi Gras sounds like a must-do. Although the main event is just one day, there are 32 (or more) individual parades in the weeks prior, each run privately by different "krewes." There's a huge amount of prestige in being part of these parades and float-riders fork out upwards of $1000 to be on a float. The Museum is actually a workshop for the parade floats and housed an amazing array of parade items.
There is a lot of talk of the oil spill here, but none has reached the shores nearest New Orleans. There are a lot of people out of work because the fishery is off limits, and there are strong feelings about (including from our Walmart checkout lady!). Louisiana is a truly beautiful corner of the world and does not deserve yet another disaster like this. Right-wing radio is giving Obama a thrashing, while the Left is after BP.
We were quite sad to leave New Orleans behind this morning. We ditched the mainroads this afternoon and drove to Vicksburg via the Natchez Trace Parkway. It's a stunning two-lane road along what was an important trade and transportation route for Natchez Indians. On the way we stopped at a Rosedown Plantation - an old cotton plantation home which has been restored and contains almost all the original 1830s furniture. The mansion and surrounds are beautiful, and it is too easy to forget that the people who built and farmed the 3500 acre plantation did so with the help of nearly 450 slaves.
We've been in New Orleans for the last three nights and those who've been there will know why there's been a lack of posting. The first guy we met sitting on a doorstep in the French Quarter drawled "y'like Bourbon street?" and when we said yes he came back with "w'chout boy, it'll kick yur ass." It was good advice.
Our RV park ("resort") was right in the French Quarter amazingly close to all the action, very plush, secured with razor wire, and a price to match. We spent almost all our time cruising the small streets of the French Quarter eating and drinking up a storm. So much so, that an actual storm arrived. Although short-lived, it was quite an experience with loads of thunder and lightening right over us (safely sheltered in Winston).
New Orleans was a great experience. We ate out for every meal, forcing ourselves to have three per day (and a meal each at every sitting!). The food is delicious. Beignet for breakfast at Cafe Du Monde (so good that they feature on the wikipedia page for Beignet), Po' Boys for lunch at Mothers (on the recommendation of a taxi driver) and Gumbo, Crawfish Ettouffee, Blackened Catfish, Jambalaya, etc for dinners. I'd recommend crawfish, despite the name, it's like a little lobster, but cheaper.
It was a very relaxing few days with lazy starts, siestas (very necessary in the 35ish heat), swims in the beautiful resort pool, and pre-dinner drinks at Cafe Pontalba on Jackson Square.
Bourbon Street and the surrounding area is a huge party every night of the week with hundreds of people competing with other pedestrians, cars and horses for space on the tiny streets. It's a great atmosphere with live music coming from bars, voodoo tour guides and their tour groups, buskers, and of course punters like us wandering about. On Sunday night we came across a group of musicians and dancers putting on a real show in the middle of a street.
Aside from the gorging ourselves silly we managed to get to the Gardens District (massive houses, and home of Sandra Bullock) and the Mardi Gras Museum. Mardi Gras sounds like a must-do. Although the main event is just one day, there are 32 (or more) individual parades in the weeks prior, each run privately by different "krewes." There's a huge amount of prestige in being part of these parades and float-riders fork out upwards of $1000 to be on a float. The Museum is actually a workshop for the parade floats and housed an amazing array of parade items.
There is a lot of talk of the oil spill here, but none has reached the shores nearest New Orleans. There are a lot of people out of work because the fishery is off limits, and there are strong feelings about (including from our Walmart checkout lady!). Louisiana is a truly beautiful corner of the world and does not deserve yet another disaster like this. Right-wing radio is giving Obama a thrashing, while the Left is after BP.
We were quite sad to leave New Orleans behind this morning. We ditched the mainroads this afternoon and drove to Vicksburg via the Natchez Trace Parkway. It's a stunning two-lane road along what was an important trade and transportation route for Natchez Indians. On the way we stopped at a Rosedown Plantation - an old cotton plantation home which has been restored and contains almost all the original 1830s furniture. The mansion and surrounds are beautiful, and it is too easy to forget that the people who built and farmed the 3500 acre plantation did so with the help of nearly 450 slaves.
Louisiana has been a real highlight and part of the US that we're both keen to come back to. We're heading on through Mississippi to Tennessee tomorrow.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Stats update
For those of you keeping score at home, we're now on our 20th day. We've done 3180 miles, are now in our 9th state, and have spent US$1074.96 on gas (average price $2.868 per gallon). Winston is doing 8.66 MPG.
Shredded tyres seen on the side of the road: thousands.
Number of these that turned out to be roadkill Armadillos: 3
Number of Armadillos seen by Charlotte: 0
Number of Turtles seen crossing the road: 1
Best road: California's New Priest Road.
Worst road: Any interstate in Oklahoma City. Far too bumpy for a truck with a drawer of cutlery in the back
Cheapest gas: $2.579/gal
Mark may have lost 1/2 a kg, but this needs to be confirmed at next weigh in.
Shredded tyres seen on the side of the road: thousands.
Number of these that turned out to be roadkill Armadillos: 3
Number of Armadillos seen by Charlotte: 0
Number of Turtles seen crossing the road: 1
Best road: California's New Priest Road.
Worst road: Any interstate in Oklahoma City. Far too bumpy for a truck with a drawer of cutlery in the back
Cheapest gas: $2.579/gal
Mark may have lost 1/2 a kg, but this needs to be confirmed at next weigh in.
Cajun Country
We left Frog City RV Park this morning, where we were affectionately known amongst the staff as "the cute young couple from Noo Zealand" - we're pretty different from the regulars in RV parks. There are two distinct groups - retired people (the majority stakeholders) and families with little children. Clearly we don't fit in either group, and age-wise we're somewhere in the middle (most parents seem significantly younger than us).
First stop - Lafayette, the unofficial capital of Cajun Country. The Cajuns are resettled Canadians - French settlers who were pushed out of L'Acadie (Nova Scotia) by the Brits in the mid-1700s and forced down to Louisiana, where they settled in the swamps, tamed the gators and made up some awesome recipes. "Cajun" comes from the local Native American and English-speakers' attempts at pronouncing "Acadians".
Lafayette is a fairly unassuming town - it has heavy-looking leafiness everywhere, a pretty little town centre and abundant parking. It also has the best food we've yet eaten in the USA at Dwight's Cafe, where we had brunch this morning. Two amazing omelettes: one stuffed with chicken, mushroom and cheese accompanied by "biscuit" (scones) for Mark and one stuffed with peppers and cheese and accompanied by potato hash for Charlotte (with help from Mark with the hash). Both were heavy on the spice and really quite something. Once again though, helpings were massive and we haven't managed another meal all day. We wandered through Vermillionville (a cute bright coloured part of town) and back to Winston.
This is where the day got really cool.
The next place on our list was McGee's Landing. It took a bit of finding, but once we got over the levee, there it was: a big old hulking wooden building on stilts, a couple of sheds, an old houseboat on a trailer and an ancient, tired looking dog called "Dog". It's home to the Allemond family - Cajuns from way back and now the unassuming recipients of a number of awards for their top-notch restaurant (located atop the stilts) and their Swamp tours - McGee's is right next to Atchafalaya, the biggest swamp in the USA.
Charlotte was a bit nervous - the restaurant had a massive stuffed alligator in it, and newspaper articles on the walls claimed that the biggest gator Captain Curtis tussled with and killed was 15ft and 600lbs. Confidence was not lifted when Captain Curtis came out - a tiny, smiling 76 year old man in a denim onesie. After some reconsideration, Charlotte decided that Captain Curtis clearly had experience on his side (and Mark pointed out his big knife), so we got on the boat.
The boat trip itself was magic - we sailed around the swamp watching wildlife in action as narrated by Captain Curtis in his, at times indecipherable, musical Cajun French/American accent. Egrets, herons, osprey, cormorants, dense and pungent-smelling cypress forests growing out of the water and hyacinth growing on it. Captain Curtis taught us how to spot alligators by picking out where the bubbles were rising in the water - and then drove us right into the trees so he could hop out and dump a bunch of chicken in the greenery. A massive shift in the water made it clear he was feeding a gator - we think he's working on gaining the trust of one of the up and comers.
The highlight was definitely just up-swamp - where Curtis announced "Now we're going to have a party" and a telltale snout and set of eyes appeared and an alligator frolicked next to us for a good ten minutes. Curtis told us he'd been "working with" this one for 18 or so years - he estimated the gator's age at 50 (they can live up to 100 years), his length at 12ft and his weight at 500lbs. The gator wasn't aggressive in anyway, and calmly ate the chicken Curtis threw to him. Charlotte was particularly excited that Curtis spoke to the gator in French. The gator had some massive cuts on his tail - a result of fighting with other males during mating season, although Curtis was pleased with the way the wounds were healing.
It was a really amazing hour and a half - one of our biggest highlights so far, not just because of the swamp and the gators, but because Curtis himself was priceless. We could have floated around with him for 90 minutes and just listened to his stories without seeing a single animal and still felt like we got our money's worth.
We had our first glimpse of the mighty Mississippi as we crossed it on the way into Baton Rouge - Louisiana state capital. We wandered around the art deco Capitol, built by Huey Long, former Louisiana Governor and senator, who ordered the building of the Capitol during the Great Depression, proclaiming it had to be the tallest Capitol in the US (it's even taller than the one in Washington DC). He spent over $5m on it, when money was hard to come by. One would think this decision would be unpopular, however thousands of people came to pay their respects at Huey's grave in the Capitol grounds after he was assassinated in the Capitol building.
It turned out that Congress and state Senate were in session, so we dropped in. The very chatty security guard recommended we visit the Senate sitting, "cos it's more organised, less crazy". The noise and chatter in the Senate prompted us to ask what Congress must be like, if it was worse that that. So we popped in. They were debating a Bill proposing that death-row inmates should be able to waive their right to appeal, and thus expedite their own executions. Considering the life and death nature of the debate, we were quite surprised at the amount of chatting and sleeping going on. It was pretty lively, and no-one seemed to be listening to the two guys talking.
Baton Rouge feels like a public sector town - everyone is neatly dressed and extremely friendly and helpful, it's very tidy and clean, but it could let its hair down a bit more.
We walked alongside the banks of the Mississippi to get back to Winston.
If Louisiana keeps this up, it's front-runner for our favourite state award.
First stop - Lafayette, the unofficial capital of Cajun Country. The Cajuns are resettled Canadians - French settlers who were pushed out of L'Acadie (Nova Scotia) by the Brits in the mid-1700s and forced down to Louisiana, where they settled in the swamps, tamed the gators and made up some awesome recipes. "Cajun" comes from the local Native American and English-speakers' attempts at pronouncing "Acadians".
Lafayette is a fairly unassuming town - it has heavy-looking leafiness everywhere, a pretty little town centre and abundant parking. It also has the best food we've yet eaten in the USA at Dwight's Cafe, where we had brunch this morning. Two amazing omelettes: one stuffed with chicken, mushroom and cheese accompanied by "biscuit" (scones) for Mark and one stuffed with peppers and cheese and accompanied by potato hash for Charlotte (with help from Mark with the hash). Both were heavy on the spice and really quite something. Once again though, helpings were massive and we haven't managed another meal all day. We wandered through Vermillionville (a cute bright coloured part of town) and back to Winston.
This is where the day got really cool.
The next place on our list was McGee's Landing. It took a bit of finding, but once we got over the levee, there it was: a big old hulking wooden building on stilts, a couple of sheds, an old houseboat on a trailer and an ancient, tired looking dog called "Dog". It's home to the Allemond family - Cajuns from way back and now the unassuming recipients of a number of awards for their top-notch restaurant (located atop the stilts) and their Swamp tours - McGee's is right next to Atchafalaya, the biggest swamp in the USA.
Charlotte was a bit nervous - the restaurant had a massive stuffed alligator in it, and newspaper articles on the walls claimed that the biggest gator Captain Curtis tussled with and killed was 15ft and 600lbs. Confidence was not lifted when Captain Curtis came out - a tiny, smiling 76 year old man in a denim onesie. After some reconsideration, Charlotte decided that Captain Curtis clearly had experience on his side (and Mark pointed out his big knife), so we got on the boat.
The boat trip itself was magic - we sailed around the swamp watching wildlife in action as narrated by Captain Curtis in his, at times indecipherable, musical Cajun French/American accent. Egrets, herons, osprey, cormorants, dense and pungent-smelling cypress forests growing out of the water and hyacinth growing on it. Captain Curtis taught us how to spot alligators by picking out where the bubbles were rising in the water - and then drove us right into the trees so he could hop out and dump a bunch of chicken in the greenery. A massive shift in the water made it clear he was feeding a gator - we think he's working on gaining the trust of one of the up and comers.
The highlight was definitely just up-swamp - where Curtis announced "Now we're going to have a party" and a telltale snout and set of eyes appeared and an alligator frolicked next to us for a good ten minutes. Curtis told us he'd been "working with" this one for 18 or so years - he estimated the gator's age at 50 (they can live up to 100 years), his length at 12ft and his weight at 500lbs. The gator wasn't aggressive in anyway, and calmly ate the chicken Curtis threw to him. Charlotte was particularly excited that Curtis spoke to the gator in French. The gator had some massive cuts on his tail - a result of fighting with other males during mating season, although Curtis was pleased with the way the wounds were healing.
It was a really amazing hour and a half - one of our biggest highlights so far, not just because of the swamp and the gators, but because Curtis himself was priceless. We could have floated around with him for 90 minutes and just listened to his stories without seeing a single animal and still felt like we got our money's worth.
We had our first glimpse of the mighty Mississippi as we crossed it on the way into Baton Rouge - Louisiana state capital. We wandered around the art deco Capitol, built by Huey Long, former Louisiana Governor and senator, who ordered the building of the Capitol during the Great Depression, proclaiming it had to be the tallest Capitol in the US (it's even taller than the one in Washington DC). He spent over $5m on it, when money was hard to come by. One would think this decision would be unpopular, however thousands of people came to pay their respects at Huey's grave in the Capitol grounds after he was assassinated in the Capitol building.
It turned out that Congress and state Senate were in session, so we dropped in. The very chatty security guard recommended we visit the Senate sitting, "cos it's more organised, less crazy". The noise and chatter in the Senate prompted us to ask what Congress must be like, if it was worse that that. So we popped in. They were debating a Bill proposing that death-row inmates should be able to waive their right to appeal, and thus expedite their own executions. Considering the life and death nature of the debate, we were quite surprised at the amount of chatting and sleeping going on. It was pretty lively, and no-one seemed to be listening to the two guys talking.
Baton Rouge feels like a public sector town - everyone is neatly dressed and extremely friendly and helpful, it's very tidy and clean, but it could let its hair down a bit more.
We walked alongside the banks of the Mississippi to get back to Winston.
If Louisiana keeps this up, it's front-runner for our favourite state award.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Space
When you consider that the moon is 238,000-odd miles from the Earth and took Armstrong/Aldrin/Collins about 3 days to reach, and that the Johnson Space Centre is but 10 minutes from the Space Centre RV Park, it is both surprising and disappointing that we got so lost on the trip there. It was one of those classic throw-the-GPS-out-the-window-then-reverse-over-it-a-few-times moments when we found ourselves at the end of a dead-end street staring down a boat ramp into a sizeable river.
When we did finally get there it was awesome. I reverted to a child-like state of awe for most of the day. A lot of the main centre is for kids with play areas and games and science shows, but the cool stuff happens out back. A tram ride takes you round the actual NASA grounds (not due to laziness, but security and distance) and stops at three key places.
Number one. The ACTUAL Mission Control from the Apollo (and a few other) missions. It was used from the 60's to the 80's (and is still available as back-up). Surprising how antiquated it looks. John Ong - you must get here!
Number two. The ACTUAL Astronaut training facility. You walk along a mezzanine floor in a huge warehouse, looking down on a life-size version of the International Space Station, a space shuttle, lunar vehicles, and loads of other awesome stuff.
Number three. An ACTUAL Saturn V rocket. It's huge.
Back inside the main centre there were a few interesting displays, including some moon rocks. Unfortunately we couldn't remember Lisa Nowak's name to look for her in the photos!
We left Houston and drove along the coast towards Louisiana. The scenery changed quickly and turned into swamp land - in a good way. It's very lush and quite beautiful. No sign of the oil spill here. A quick stop at the visitor information centre provided us with all the information we needed about the place.
We're now camped in the Frog City RV Park, near Lafayette, LA. The reason for the name became apparent when the road noise dulled down.
So thanks, Texas. Any place where you can pretend to be a cowboy, frontiersman and an astronaut in the same week gets the thumbs up from me.
On a strange note, Charlotte's fake American accent has got better/worse and she's now pretending to be a Bostonian called Steve. The JFK slogan "forward, with vigah!" is being repeated regularly. I fear cabin-fever may have set in.
When we did finally get there it was awesome. I reverted to a child-like state of awe for most of the day. A lot of the main centre is for kids with play areas and games and science shows, but the cool stuff happens out back. A tram ride takes you round the actual NASA grounds (not due to laziness, but security and distance) and stops at three key places.
Number one. The ACTUAL Mission Control from the Apollo (and a few other) missions. It was used from the 60's to the 80's (and is still available as back-up). Surprising how antiquated it looks. John Ong - you must get here!
Number two. The ACTUAL Astronaut training facility. You walk along a mezzanine floor in a huge warehouse, looking down on a life-size version of the International Space Station, a space shuttle, lunar vehicles, and loads of other awesome stuff.
Number three. An ACTUAL Saturn V rocket. It's huge.
Back inside the main centre there were a few interesting displays, including some moon rocks. Unfortunately we couldn't remember Lisa Nowak's name to look for her in the photos!
We left Houston and drove along the coast towards Louisiana. The scenery changed quickly and turned into swamp land - in a good way. It's very lush and quite beautiful. No sign of the oil spill here. A quick stop at the visitor information centre provided us with all the information we needed about the place.
We're now camped in the Frog City RV Park, near Lafayette, LA. The reason for the name became apparent when the road noise dulled down.
So thanks, Texas. Any place where you can pretend to be a cowboy, frontiersman and an astronaut in the same week gets the thumbs up from me.
On a strange note, Charlotte's fake American accent has got better/worse and she's now pretending to be a Bostonian called Steve. The JFK slogan "forward, with vigah!" is being repeated regularly. I fear cabin-fever may have set in.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
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