We'll fill in the gaps (Washington DC) when we need a break from drinking, eating and sightseeing.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
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
Austin to Houston
It was a pretty full-on drive into Austin, but we got there early enough to relax by the pool once we'd parked up. It was incredibly hot, and cooling down was necessary. We've been staying in 'Carefree RV' resorts so far in Texas - they're really clean, green and full of trees. I think they're aimed at a slightly older crowd, but that works for us - less competition for the pool.
Once we'd sorted ourselves out, we got a taxi into town and wandered up Congress Ave to the Capitol. Austin is really leafy and the Capitol is beautiful - surrounded by trees and sculptures (many commemorating the Civil War and those who died for 'state rights'). There was a big group of kids rolling down the hills and playing in the trees. It was such a beautiful Sunday night, it seemed like the whole city was out to enjoy it.
We met a really nice local couple and their kids, they'd spent quite a bit of time in NZ and were keen for a chat and happy to give us some pointers on what to do.
Then along Beale Street - Austin's famous party street. Austin is known as a city full of live music, and Sunday nights are no different. We ended up in a cafe/bar listening to "experimental electronica". I think the experimental phase will be quite long. The local beer (Shiner - named for a town just south of San Antonio) was really good. So we had a couple, and watched the very religious couple sitting next to us get through their awkward first date. Off down the road and into the Warehouse District, for a few more beers - listened to a "benefit gig" (in aid of abandoned puppies) at a courtyard bar. It was after midnight and still so hot.
Next day we headed into Downtown Austin to check out the shops. We got looked at strangely again when we when into a cafe/lunch place and just asked for a coffee... no-one seems to do that in Texas. Downtown Austin seems to be the epicentre of the "keep Austin weird" movement - heaps of incredible eclectic vintage stores selling everything from stuffed coyotes, to old "Vote Ford for President" pins, yearbooks from the 60s, belt buckles, you name it. We could have spent hours in each one. Mark dipped out on his quest to buy the perfect cowboy boots (since we went to the rodeo, he seems to have decided he missed his true calling), as it's next to impossible to get a good pair for less than $300US, but he did pick up a cowboy shirt.
Austin's quite different from the Texas we've seen so far - there's still plenty of cowboy types, but there's also a strong hipster crowd (who wear their cowboy boots in a slightly more ironic fashion).
Back in Winston we headed the 75 miles to San Antonio and parked not far from the centre of town. First stop - the Alamo. It was not at all what we expected. It's a beautiful green oasis in the middle of town - old stone walls surround what's left of the Chapel and the barracks. The Daughters of Texas have transformed the inner area into a beautiful tree-filled garden. It's no surprise Davy Crockett and his pals failed to overcome the Mexican forces, they were way outnumbered, but their bravery (some may say foolishness - there were about 10 Mexican soldiers for each Texian resistor) inspired the remaining Texians ("Texians" are precursors to Texans - before Texas joined the Union) to "remember the Alamo" and fight harder, and Santa Anna and his troops were defeated within a few months.
We nipped across the road for some ice-cream and then headed for the Riverwalk - where San Antonio pulled out another surprise. We'd heard a lot about this "Riverwalk", and, as Kiwis, we'd expected a DoC-style river-side semi-hike - sensible shoes required. But, as it turns out, the Riverwalk is a beautiful European-style entertainment area on the banks of the river. You have to walk down steps to get into it, so you can't see it from the street. The entire walk is about 10kms, with about 2kms of it being paved by cute little bars and cafes, bright coloured sun-umbrellas and little fountains everywhere. It's very un-Kiwi - no handrails (we like American pragmatism - if you're an idiot, you'll drown and it'll be your own fault). We were really taken with it - you'd never have known on the Riverwalk how hot it was above decks.
There was incredibly heavy rain last night, but Winston held firm... unfortunately the kitchen blind did not and we decided to ring El Monte with a not insignificant list of minor concerns - they booked Winston in for a check up in Houston this afternoon, so we got on the road. Given that there may be nothing more American than McDonalds (the number of golden arches we see almost rivals the number of stars and stripes flags), we gave in to the inevitable and got some McDs in the thriving metropolis of Flatonia, TX. I ordered the "Southern Style" Chicken burger, since there was no McChicken on the menu. It was unbelievably disappointing - literally a burger bun, two slices of gherkin and a chicken patty. Mark was much happier with his Big Mac.
Back on the road and into Houston - traffic was fiendish, but Mark did unbelievably well, as usual. We located the RV doctor, and Winston was seen to immediately. A really lovely couple, Nancy and Marv ,were there (with their wee poodle Amy) getting their (much bigger) RV attended to. They retired about 7 years ago, and are "full-time" RV-ers. It sounds like they've seen the whole of North America (bar Alaska - which is next on their list). Apart from a few months of the year with their kids in San Antonio, they go where the wind takes them. Mark and I are quite envious of their elastic timetable, but picked up some great tips off the pros and really enjoyed hearing some American points of view, other than those we hear on talk-back (other than Spanish language stations - which Mark really loves - we only seem to be able to get Glenn Beck).
Now we're parked up at "SpacePark RV Houston" - the closest RV Park to the Houston Space Museum, all ready for an early start!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
San Antonio river walk
here. The beer is working
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Deep in the heart of Texas
We returned to Texas yesterday morning. Arriving in Dallas during rush-hour was quite difficult driving, especially with no idea where we were going to park. We settled on a suburban transport station and caught a bus into the centre of down.
The afternoon was spent at the sixth floor museum - an information centre for everything JFK related, and of course, the room from where he was assassinated. The exhibition is incredibly moving. It follows JFK's life leading up to presidency, his term in office, second-by-second recollection of the assassination, the aftermath, and his legacy. Standing in that room looking down on the white 'X' in the middle of the road was a very surreal experience.
We caught the train back to Winston and drove the short distance to Fort Worth. The cities are basically joined together and are referred to as 'the Metroplex.' We're staying a couple of nights at Treetops RV Resort, which is a really relaxing place between the cities.
Today, we've been in Cowtown - the historic Fort Worth Stockyards district. There is loads of tourist junk now of course, but you can really feel what the place would have been like in its glory years. A herd of Texas Longhorns are driven down the main street twice a day, and cowboys on horseback patrol the streets. We ventured into a couple of antique stores which were stocked to overflowing with all sorts of western (and non-western) memorabilia. One had a polar bear head, two grizzlys, a mountain lion and a real lion, a couple of armadillos, and a huge number of deer heads on the walls. The bar we stopped for a drink at featured a similar deceased menagerie and the barstools were saddles. Chandeliers made from antlers are the norm round here.
Tonight was date night. I bought Charlotte a drink (from Winston's fridge) and took her out for a good western meal (buffalo wings, deep fried ocra, corn and cheese, and strangely, given the distance from the ocean, prawns). Then, to the Rodeo!
We thought it might have been tarted up for tourists, but it was the genuine article. It started with a young lady on horseback galloping around the arena with the American flag, the national anthem butchered by another, and a prayer! Then straight into the action with bull riding, calf roping, bronco riding, barrel racing, and more bull riding. In a couple of intermissions, children (first aged 8-14, then 7 and under) were called into the arena. Just as we were joking (secretly hoping) that they'd release a wild bull, or at very least a pack of coyotes a calf (for the 8-14 year olds) and an aging ewe (for the younger lot) were set into the arena and the kids chased them around, presumably in the hope that they would catch them.
The cowboys were very impressive and I thoroughly enjoyed the show. Charlotte enjoyed it too, though has some ethical concerns pertaining to animal welfare. (Note from Charlotte: In one of the first bull-riding events the bull panicked when it had the lasso around its neck and ran headfirst into the steel bars and put a horn through the placard. I didn't like the little calves getting chased around and hog-tied much at first, but they seemed OK afterwards and it was really impressive. Definitely the worst bit was the look on the wee calf's face when it was being chased by 50 little kids - pure terror. On the whole though, it was heaps of fun and the horses seemed to enjoy it).
Photos of all this will be up sometime in the next few days, when we've got a real connection (rather than stealing some cafe network)
The afternoon was spent at the sixth floor museum - an information centre for everything JFK related, and of course, the room from where he was assassinated. The exhibition is incredibly moving. It follows JFK's life leading up to presidency, his term in office, second-by-second recollection of the assassination, the aftermath, and his legacy. Standing in that room looking down on the white 'X' in the middle of the road was a very surreal experience.
We caught the train back to Winston and drove the short distance to Fort Worth. The cities are basically joined together and are referred to as 'the Metroplex.' We're staying a couple of nights at Treetops RV Resort, which is a really relaxing place between the cities.
Today, we've been in Cowtown - the historic Fort Worth Stockyards district. There is loads of tourist junk now of course, but you can really feel what the place would have been like in its glory years. A herd of Texas Longhorns are driven down the main street twice a day, and cowboys on horseback patrol the streets. We ventured into a couple of antique stores which were stocked to overflowing with all sorts of western (and non-western) memorabilia. One had a polar bear head, two grizzlys, a mountain lion and a real lion, a couple of armadillos, and a huge number of deer heads on the walls. The bar we stopped for a drink at featured a similar deceased menagerie and the barstools were saddles. Chandeliers made from antlers are the norm round here.
Tonight was date night. I bought Charlotte a drink (from Winston's fridge) and took her out for a good western meal (buffalo wings, deep fried ocra, corn and cheese, and strangely, given the distance from the ocean, prawns). Then, to the Rodeo!
We thought it might have been tarted up for tourists, but it was the genuine article. It started with a young lady on horseback galloping around the arena with the American flag, the national anthem butchered by another, and a prayer! Then straight into the action with bull riding, calf roping, bronco riding, barrel racing, and more bull riding. In a couple of intermissions, children (first aged 8-14, then 7 and under) were called into the arena. Just as we were joking (secretly hoping) that they'd release a wild bull, or at very least a pack of coyotes a calf (for the 8-14 year olds) and an aging ewe (for the younger lot) were set into the arena and the kids chased them around, presumably in the hope that they would catch them.
The cowboys were very impressive and I thoroughly enjoyed the show. Charlotte enjoyed it too, though has some ethical concerns pertaining to animal welfare. (Note from Charlotte: In one of the first bull-riding events the bull panicked when it had the lasso around its neck and ran headfirst into the steel bars and put a horn through the placard. I didn't like the little calves getting chased around and hog-tied much at first, but they seemed OK afterwards and it was really impressive. Definitely the worst bit was the look on the wee calf's face when it was being chased by 50 little kids - pure terror. On the whole though, it was heaps of fun and the horses seemed to enjoy it).
Photos of all this will be up sometime in the next few days, when we've got a real connection (rather than stealing some cafe network)
Friday, June 4, 2010
Healthy eating
though.
We're in Dallas, near to where JFK was shot.
OKC!
Today we headed into Oklahoma - we hadn't originally planned on coming here at all, but it's been a real highlight. Oklahomans may have to take the prize off the New Mexicans for friendliest locals.
We crossed the border from Texas at about 9:30am and straight away came upon a tourist centre, which we really only went into to use the rest room. About 45 minutes later, we came out having heard phrases we never thought we'd hear anybody say - "He used to have a cotton gin down in Texas" etc.
We also met some very honest locals who were extremely frank with us about the historical treatment of Native Americans in Oklahoma - the Trail of Tears in the late 1830s forced the Cherokee out of Florida and up to Oklahoma to live. It was an extremely cold winter and thousands of Cherokee died on the way. When they got there they weren't really prepared for the different surroundings or the other tribes they encountered. Then the land they were promised was taken off them too.
Our new friends were also the exception (according to them, anyway) in these parts, in that they wanted to see more openness towards the Mexican communities. As they put it, "If you were trying to bring up your babies down there, you'd scoop'em up too and try everything you could to bring'em up here". They said they didn't really share their thoughts with a lot of their friends, because it didn't go down so well - in fact, whenever anyone walked past, their voices were lowered and they were very careful not to be overheard!
So, on to Clinton, and the Route 66 Museum. It was really well put together - the music of the various eras, mixed with personal accounts and Americana from the time. Mark loved the cars - a beautiful Ford Custom, amongst various other makes. There was a replica old service station and a '50s diner - all really well done. After all that, we stopped into Braum's - a chain ice-cream parlour and burger bar. We were just planning on having a coffee, but we ended up getting a rocky road chocolate fudge sundae (at 11am). Bruce had recommended their ice-creams yesterday.... they really are superb. Which is just as well because the coffee tasted just like all American coffee does.
Back on the road and into Oklahoma City - first stop: Stockyard City. The world's biggest cattle-yards. Unfortunately, it wasn't a sale day so the pens weren't full, but it was just as well because the extreme heat mixed with the smell of thousands of cows would have probably made the day fairly unenjoyable. As it was, it took a while for the smell to evacuate our nostrils.
Back into the historic stockyards town and to the famous "Cattlemen's Cafe" for lunch. Cattlemen's has been around for 100 years, and is pretty famous in these parts - it once changed hands after the former owner placed a bet in a game of dice that his opponent wouldn't throw double 3s. He did - and you can still see double 3s on prominent display. Mark ordered the famous chicken fry steak (it's beef fried like KFC). As usual, portions were massive and we're not having dinner tonight!
We were just going to stick our heads into the Western clothing store, but ended up passing some time with the staff. They caught us sneakily trying to take photos of the massive cowboy boot-filled room (for Jenny) and offered to take the photo for us. And then, in what seems to be usual Oklahoman style, we got into a conversation. About everything - they were very impressed with Charlotte's USA history reading (although she kind of put her foot in it when she said she was "a big fan of Lincoln"... wrong part of the States to say that in, "We're more into Robert E. Lee down here") and offered some tips on what to do in OKC. For the second time today we heard that the National Cowboy and Western museum was a must-do - so we jumped into Winston and headed across town.
We got there at 4:30 - it closed at 5 and the till was shut. So they let us in by just making a wee donation in the donations box and the security guard told us the highlights which we could fit in in 30 minutes. The museum entrance houses a beautiful - and massive (after all, this is the mid-West) - sculpture called "The End of the Trail". It's a Native American on horseback - he looks tired. Then we flew on through a mock Western town circa 1900 - it was fantastic. Saloon, school, attorney's offices, church, saddlery, general store and photography studio. Quite beautiful and authentic looking. Then a host of exhibits that our Dads would love - cowboy history and clothing, rodeo museum and even a barbed-wire fence gallery (apparently the various and at times artful barbed wire styles are highly collectable and there are a number of conventions for people who collect them).
We would have liked another hour or so, but we got the highlights in before closing time. Bee-lining across OKC, we visited the State Capitol, set in a green squirrel-filled field in the middle of town. It was a welcome relief to wander in the shade because the sun was blistering. Although that didn't last long - on the way out of town and south towards Texas the sky opened up and it rained. Just as you'd expect, the rain in the mid-West is bigger too - I don't think we've ever experienced anything like it before (and hopefully we won't again!).
Now we're parked up in an RV park in Ardmore, OK - it has a beautiful swan-filled pond and a lit-up pier (not to mention a really nice looking pool).
[See photo gallery #4 for more pictures]
We crossed the border from Texas at about 9:30am and straight away came upon a tourist centre, which we really only went into to use the rest room. About 45 minutes later, we came out having heard phrases we never thought we'd hear anybody say - "He used to have a cotton gin down in Texas" etc.
We also met some very honest locals who were extremely frank with us about the historical treatment of Native Americans in Oklahoma - the Trail of Tears in the late 1830s forced the Cherokee out of Florida and up to Oklahoma to live. It was an extremely cold winter and thousands of Cherokee died on the way. When they got there they weren't really prepared for the different surroundings or the other tribes they encountered. Then the land they were promised was taken off them too.
Our new friends were also the exception (according to them, anyway) in these parts, in that they wanted to see more openness towards the Mexican communities. As they put it, "If you were trying to bring up your babies down there, you'd scoop'em up too and try everything you could to bring'em up here". They said they didn't really share their thoughts with a lot of their friends, because it didn't go down so well - in fact, whenever anyone walked past, their voices were lowered and they were very careful not to be overheard!
So, on to Clinton, and the Route 66 Museum. It was really well put together - the music of the various eras, mixed with personal accounts and Americana from the time. Mark loved the cars - a beautiful Ford Custom, amongst various other makes. There was a replica old service station and a '50s diner - all really well done. After all that, we stopped into Braum's - a chain ice-cream parlour and burger bar. We were just planning on having a coffee, but we ended up getting a rocky road chocolate fudge sundae (at 11am). Bruce had recommended their ice-creams yesterday.... they really are superb. Which is just as well because the coffee tasted just like all American coffee does.
We were just going to stick our heads into the Western clothing store, but ended up passing some time with the staff. They caught us sneakily trying to take photos of the massive cowboy boot-filled room (for Jenny) and offered to take the photo for us. And then, in what seems to be usual Oklahoman style, we got into a conversation. About everything - they were very impressed with Charlotte's USA history reading (although she kind of put her foot in it when she said she was "a big fan of Lincoln"... wrong part of the States to say that in, "We're more into Robert E. Lee down here") and offered some tips on what to do in OKC. For the second time today we heard that the National Cowboy and Western museum was a must-do - so we jumped into Winston and headed across town.
We got there at 4:30 - it closed at 5 and the till was shut. So they let us in by just making a wee donation in the donations box and the security guard told us the highlights which we could fit in in 30 minutes. The museum entrance houses a beautiful - and massive (after all, this is the mid-West) - sculpture called "The End of the Trail". It's a Native American on horseback - he looks tired. Then we flew on through a mock Western town circa 1900 - it was fantastic. Saloon, school, attorney's offices, church, saddlery, general store and photography studio. Quite beautiful and authentic looking. Then a host of exhibits that our Dads would love - cowboy history and clothing, rodeo museum and even a barbed-wire fence gallery (apparently the various and at times artful barbed wire styles are highly collectable and there are a number of conventions for people who collect them).
We would have liked another hour or so, but we got the highlights in before closing time. Bee-lining across OKC, we visited the State Capitol, set in a green squirrel-filled field in the middle of town. It was a welcome relief to wander in the shade because the sun was blistering. Although that didn't last long - on the way out of town and south towards Texas the sky opened up and it rained. Just as you'd expect, the rain in the mid-West is bigger too - I don't think we've ever experienced anything like it before (and hopefully we won't again!).
Now we're parked up in an RV park in Ardmore, OK - it has a beautiful swan-filled pond and a lit-up pier (not to mention a really nice looking pool).
[See photo gallery #4 for more pictures]
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Farming in the Texas panhandle
We left Tucumcari this morning and headed north east on the 54. Winston had an under-inflated ego (tyre) so we called into a truck mechanic who got the whole team to work on the wheels - for free. I guess if we'd paid, they might have put the hub caps back on firmly and Winston would still be intact. Somewhere between there and here is a shiny silver plastic "alloy" rim. Never mind.
The 54 is an unusual trail for holiday makers to take, as it heads across into Texas, first stop Dalhart, which is not a tourist destination by any stretch of the imagination. Look it up on Google Maps (make sure to look at it in satellite view) and marvel at the strange landscape from above. All farming (growing plants, not animals - that would be ranching) is done in circles for irrigation and although the circles may look small on the map, believe us - they are huge.
After a quick root beer in town, we met up with Mark's family friend Bruce, who is working as a driver for a contracting company. The locals at the diner had taken great interest in us, to the point they whipped around the room asking if anyone knew Bruce (response: "probably"). We met at the feed lot which Bruce was delivering silage to. A feed lot is a term for a very highly concentrated ranch - over 70,000 cattle live in at the one we were at! Cattle are raised in pens and feed on silage, delivered to troughs next to the pens by truck. We went out for a ride in Bruce's rig, collecting silage from a nearby farm and delivering back to the silage pit. A very interesting experience - it's a massive, and very slick, operation.
The land is incredibly flat (not a hill in sight) and is about 4000ft above sea level. Water for irrigation is pumped from an underground lake some 600ft beneath the ground. It's very different to farming in NZ - more of a meat factory than a farm.
We had been looking forward to Amarillo for some time - talking about the delicious BBQ feast that we'd find. Mouths watering we pulled into Henk's Bar-B-Que and ordered meat. I asked Henk what was good - "chopped beef" apparently. The recommendation was clearly based on availability rather than taste, as it came straight off the chopping board behind him. Served up with 2 ribs, a scoop of potato, one of coleslaw and a bowl of dirty looking beans, it was hands down the most disgusting thing I've seen on a plate. Of course we ate it (Charlotte only managed a rib, and a bit of potato and 'slaw), I'm not proud. Sven, if you're reading, I say this with you in mind.
We continued on to Shamrock, not far from the Oklahoma state line, and pulled into the RV park around 8. The owner here has been on the land "forever" - with 4 generations on the farm. He's been right friendly, giving us a taste of local buttermilk and telling us about the Oklahoma state bird, the Scissortailed Flycatcher.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)