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.