Chattanooga to Atlanta (Tuesday 13th March)

A mild night and the first time in several days that Anna had gone to bed without the addition of silk long-johns and fleecy slipper socks – and been warm enough in the night (she kept her long-sleeved silk vest on, just in case!).

We still haven't adjusted to the changeover to Daylight Savings Time (on Sunday) and it still being dark at 7.00 a.m., so we've been sleeping in a bit later than previously (in spite of the uncomfortable bed above the cab).

We had planned to ride the Incline Railway up to the top of Lookout Mountain, not far from our campsite at Raccoon Mountain, but it was a cloudy misty morning – there had been some rain the day before and a little during the night and there was a haze of evaporation. It was enough to block out the sun in the first few hours of daylight. We decided it wouldn't be worth going up the mountain. When we left Chattanooga around 10.30 a.m. The mist was clearing but the view from the mountain would still have been limited.

We took the scenic route out of Chattanooga, as suggested by a man in the Visitor Center yesterday. Followed St. Elmo's, route 193, to join the GA 136 (crossing the state line into Georgia, where a sign said 'We are glad that you have Georgia on your mind.'). We eventually joined the I-75 at junction 320, after around 55 miles. The scenic route took us along the Georgia backroads, past farms and small communities – where every house seemed to have a rocking=chair on the porch, through La Fayette and the Chattahoochee National Forest. We mad a stop at the rest area just where we went on to the I-75. A few miles further on, we pulled off at a junction and had lunch at Shoneys. We had managed to avoid Shoney's during our stay up to now, but actually it wasn't that bad. We had the lunch buffet for $5.99 each and got to try a bit of everything.

When we got to the outskirts of Atlanta the traffic was pretty hairy. It reminded Anna of being on the Autobahn in Germany. Paul was getting very stressed and swearing at other drivers for not letting him pull out – so he is obviously feeling very much at home in the USA now, since this is exactly what he usually does back in the UK!

We arrived safely at the South Atlanta RV Resort, near McDonough at around 3.30 p.m. and had time to chill out for a while. Later on we began the process of packing and sorting through the maps and leaflets we had accumulated during our 3-week stay – there is a bundle of them going home with us, although we have thrown a lot away too.

Anna had cooked up the remaining vegetables in a tomato sauce (the remains of a tube of tomato purée) yesterday evening  and put these in the fridge. We heated this up for an evening meal, adding a small amount of chicken stew which had been in the (very efficient) freezer compartment of the fridge for almost 3 weeks and the last remaining tin of tuna. Paul, meanwhile, went in search of beer.

The van has been washed down and most areas cleaned. All there is to do in the morning is to pack up our remaining stuff, sweep and swab down the floor and sort out the stuff we are leaving behind. When we collected the RV, Tiffany at the Cruise America agents told us that if we bought our own bedding and cutlery, etc., we could leave it with them when we go and she would see to it that it got used. She said she often takes stuff to a local women's shelter. We were talking about what to do with the phone that we bought to use while we were here and Anna remembered what Tiffany said about the women's shelter, so that is where it is going.

We are only 11 miles from the Cruise America agents in Morrow, where we have to return the RV by 11.00 a.m. Tomorrow, so we don't have to rush around too much in the morning.

Townsend to Chattanooga (Monday 12th March)

A milder night than the others at Townsend.  Packed up, said goodbye to our hosts,  the site owners, Don and Carolyn Curry – and put my 3 postcards in their mailbox to await collection. To AJ's Diner again for breakfast,  No buffet today,  Anna had blueberry pancakes (expected 2, there were 3!), Paul had egg, sausage, biscuit  and gravy – which was too salty, he said.  It was a long time coming as there seemed to be only one waitress on and a few customers.


Had decided – after meeting Randy McGiness yesterday – to return to the Wood'N'Strings shop to get one of his CDs (he said they stocked theem there and in the Townsend Heritage Center).  They were out of CDs, but sold us the demo one for $10.  Anna bought a Native American style pocket flute – five holes, pentatonic, A minor.  The sign with the larger flutes said that there was an instruction booklet and DVD free with every flute.  Anna asked if this applied to the small flutes. 'Would you like one?' asked the woman and gave us one, free.


Left Townsend at about 10.30 a.m. and arrived in Chattanooga about 2.30 p.m.   It was only 127 miles but we followed the quieter route 33 as far as Cleveland, the headed for Chattanooga on the 411.


In Chattanooga we booked into Raccoon Mountain RV Park, off route 41, close to Raccoon Mountain and Lookout Mountain.  Ate some lunch then headed for downtown Chattanooga to have a look around.  Got a bit lost finding our way to the Choo Choo, but did find a liquor store – which we had forgotten we were looking for.  They didn't stock the brand of mescal that Dan wanted, or the Wild Turkey 12-year old bourbon – and neither did the only other big liquor store in town (the owner rang for us) – so we bought 10 year old instead.


The Creek name for Lookout Mountain was Chattanooga and the settlers decided to use this name, after the 'removal' of the Cherokee from their ancestral lands (see below)


Modern, good architecture in downtown Chattanooga and interesting street sculptures (e.g. 'High Four' – dog with raised paw); wide streets.  Parked for free at the South Shuttle Park next to Chattanooga Choo Choo (RV too high to get into $3 a day car park there).  Got free electric shuttle to the North Shuttle Terminus by the Visitor Center and close by the Aquarium.


Walked half-way across Walnut Bridge, over the Tennessee River – 'the longest pedestrian bridge in the USA'.  We then took the path down to the river and to The Passage, beneath Market Street Bridge, near the Aquarium.  The Passage is an art installation, created by local artists of Cherokee descent.  It commemorates the 'removal' of the Cherokee Nation from their ancestral lands in 1838-9, when a quarter of them died on the 'Trail of Tears'.


Walked part of the way back from the river towards the Chattanooga Choo Choo, then caught the shuttle the rest of the way.


Drove back to Raccoon Mountain RV Park and cooked, then spent some time jointly making notes on where we've been and what we've done - there is still about a week missing from this blog I think - maybe more!

Townsend (Sunday 11th March)

Not as cold as last night (when there had been a slight frost).  Start of daylight savings time in USA, so we lost an hour again in the night!


Buffet breakfast at AJ's Diner, using 30% discount card that they gave us when we had called in for coffee the previous day.  Anna tried out 'biscuit and gravy' – a scone, more-or-less, with a white sauce flavoured with bacon or pork.  AJ said we must try one of the doughnuts – 'cause you can’t get them anywhere else!'  It was a very greasy, fried doughnut, covered in sugar – Anna had a small nibble and Paul ate the rest.


Parked near the river, not far from the Townsend Y, so we didn't have to drive far along the winding scenic route 73, towards Cades Cove again and took the  Chestnut Top trail, recommended by Don and Carolyn.  A beautiful sunny day, clear skies, wild flowers beginning to bloom in the forest, buds on the trees. Saw a turkey vulture, dragonflies and butterflies.  Saw evidence of bears – for example, bark clawed off trees, scrabblings in the leaf mould – but no bears.  They will be out in great number soon no doubt, as the days get warmer – there are about 1500 black bears in the Smoky Mountains National Park.


There weren't many people out on the Chestnut trail, though we did meet a few more going up when we were on our way down.


We met a man who was employed in public works in Maryville – he passed us on the way up and, later on, on the wsay down (we were going at a slow pace). We told him how much we liked Townsend, that it reminded us of home and he said thst's why Europeans settled all along the Appalachians – obvious really!  Paul asked if he though Townsend would go the way of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinberg.  He said it was holding out so far, but that the main block to development was that it isn't on the main sewerage system and once that happens …  Of Pigeon Forge he said that there were 2800 registered inhabitants but 70,000 bedspaces.  All those visitors have to be provided for in terms of emergency services and so on, so the services are out of all proportion to the inhabitants. 


Also on the way back down the trail we met a man and a woman.  The man asked where we were from, we told him and then asked if they were from the area.  The man answered that he was Cherokee, so it was home.  We got into conversation and Paul asked where thee Cherokee homelands where; 'you're standing on them,' he answered and told us how far they had extended.  We spoke of the Trail of Tears.  He said he had been lucky in that his family ended up in Ohio and he grew up in a small, supportive Cherokee community.  He had moved back to the Smoky Mountains as an adult.  He asked if we had been to Cherokee – we had thought of it, but it would have taken us into North Carolina and in the wrong direction.  His name was Randy McGiness, he said he was an eight Irish ('from my knee to my ankle') and he played Native American flute and had produced several CDs. Paul asked if he had a website he said to look for DeerStarProductions.com  Paul talked about playing English folk music and then mentioned playing the Appalachian dulcimer – upon which Randy said that the woman with him owned a very rare dulcimer – the 'bandjammer'.  'From Wood'N'Strings!' Paul exclaimed, 'We were there yesterday and I played one and met Mike Clemmer.'  Randy said they stocked his CDS, as does the Heritage Center in Townsend.


Had a close encounter with a friendly squirrel, obviously used to being fed by campers: 'a fed squirrel is a dead squirrel,' I told it, paraphrasing what I'd read in thee 'Bear Safe; pamphlet earlier in the day.  Unimpressed, it made its way along the fence to our neighbour's table, where they obligingly gave it some food. 


We decided to eat out for a change and walked about half a mile along the road to the Carriage House restaurant for dinner.  Paul had ribeye steak. Anna had grilled lemon pepper chicken, which tasted as though it had been seasoned in something lemon-flavoured, from a packet (we won't be going there again!)

Breaux Bridge and Lake Martin (Wednesday 29 February)

As it was a Wednesday morning in Lafayette we intended to follow the advice in  the Lonely Planet Guide:

On Wednesday mornings stop by Dwyers for a breakfast biscuit and listen in as old Cajun codgers hold court in their local French Patois

Unfortunately we spent some time driving up and down Jefferson Boulevard and nearby streets to no avail - no Dwyers to be seen!  We eventually gave up and drove back to site for porridge. 

We thought we'd maybe spend some time in downtown Lafayette in the morning, but we couldn't find downtown Lafayettte either!  Well, that's not quite true, we did find it, but couldn't park anywhere in the RV.  Actually downtown Lafayette is very small although Lafayette itself is quite a sprawling town and has a very long street, Dauphin Street, running through the middle of it.  

Giving up on the sprawl of endless strip malls which is Lafayette, we decided to head on out to Breaux Bridge and spend some time there before thee swamp tour (at nearby Lake Martin).

Breaux Bridge is a lovely little town on the Bayou Teche with a small and friendly information center.   Taking the advice of woman in the information centre, we walked around the small town centre (a few arty shops and cafes) and then through St Bernard's cemetery (elevated tombs) and to the Park of the Bridges, alongside the Bayou Teche.  Here we saw the marble snake and plaque explaining the Native American legend of the Bayou Teche (Teche being a Native Americasn word for snake).  After this we stopped at the Café des Amis for coffee and Chocolate Paycan(sic) pie (Anna) and Bread Pudding with a delicious disgustingly Sweet White Chocolate Sauce (Paul). 

We then set off for Lake Martin and our swamp tour about 5 miles away.   At Lake Martin Jetty we were met by Shawn Guchereau of Cajun Swamp Tours (see link in last post) who works in the business with his father, 'Butch'. There were only four of us on the trip, the other two being Susie and Mike from California . 

While we were waiting on the jetty a noisy airboat set off. This was followed by a loud grumbling noise which came from a few feet away from where we were stood. Shawn said it was a 10ft 'gator which had been sleeping in the mud on the bottom and had been disturbed by the noise.  We didn't get to see it, though he said that he had seen it earlier.

We set off in the aluminium skiff, learning about the history of the lake which was originally an area of swamps and bayous which had been developed into a wildlife sanctuary.  Shawn was a great guide and had a lot of knowledge, both passed on from his father and from his own study and experience. (Interestingly, an American woman from somewhere out-of-state who had been on the earlier tour - just returned - said she wished us luck in understanding Shawn, as he was 'very Cajun'.  We had no problem understanding him at all!)

We saw quite few gators - of various sizes on the swamp tour, plus cormorants and other birds, as Shawn navigated us around the lake and through cypress swamps and down bayous, telling us about the development of the area and the different flora and fauna.  We took a lot of photographs (Anna) and video footage (Paul)

On Shawn's recommendation we went back to the Cafe des Amis in Breaux Bridge for an evening meal (very good crawfish etoufee), accompanied by a live zydeco band.


It was a fantastic day!  We returned to Lafayette and the Acadiana National Park to spend our second - and final - night there.

Thibodaux to Lafayette (Tuesday 28th February)

We arrived on Tuesday afternoon at the Acadiana National Park site - a large forest park, with very few of the plots occupied..  We had our first taste of Boudin (Cajun sausage) here - bought from the M & S Stores (no, not that M & S) nearby and consumed at a picnic table on the site.  


It was a hot and humid Louisiana day. Later on we explored the nature trails around the site . We saw 4 turtles on a log a couple of minutes into the walk! Anna surprised a Great Blue Heron on the bayou. We also saw a moth larvae disguised as lichen pointed out to us by a ranger.  We met some people who told us that they came out there regularly to watch a family of raccoons playing in the afternoon sun at the side of the river, near the footbridge.  They weren't out on this particular afternoon though.  

We wore mosquito bands on the walk – they worked very well, we didn't see a single mosquito on them, they settled on our backs, arms, ankles and legs – worst bites ever! 

We decided that we would go on a swamp tour on the following day - this was something that Anna was particularly keen to do.  We chose one of the several available from leaflets we had picked up - Cajun Country Swamp Tours. We rang and book places for the 'dusk' trip the next day - a 2 hour trip on Lake Martin, just outside of Breaux Bridge (a few miles outside of Lafayette), setting off at 4.00 p.m.

In the evening we ate at Randols Restaurant and Dancehall in the evening, Anna had Crawfish Gumbo (in spite of ordering crawfish etoufee!) and Paul had Softshell Crab and Sweet Potato Fries, mmm mmm! All the while listening to a Cajun band.

Thibodaux, 'Queen City of Lafourche' - Cajun country (Monday 27th February)

We left New Orleans in mid-morning and drove on to the small town of Thibodaux, only about 60 miles away, south-west of New Orleans.  Paul had read that there was a free Cajun music session at the Wetlands Arcadian Cultural Centre every Monday evening.  We wound our way there in a leisurely fashion, arriving at the Center in early afternoon, where we looked around awhile and picked up some local information and also information on Lafayette (to be our next stop). 


The woman at the Wetlands Arcadian Cultural Centre recommended a couple of places for lunch.  We drove around a bit, down some very narrow streets (where it was a squeeze getting the RV through) , looking for somewhere to park, eventually parking outside the Sheriff's office.  We walked the length of Third Street a couple of times looking for Spahr's Seafood Restaurant.  We had just given up the search and were making our way back to the RV when we found it – on Fourth Street!  Anna had the fish of the day, Tilapia, with streamed vegetables and enjoyed it very much.


We drove some way out of Thibodaux looking for an RV park.  The countryside  was very wet, lots of rivers and bayous.– noticeably in swamp country.  After passing a couple of very shabby and run-down sites, we found the Hideaway Ponds campsite about 15 miles out of Thibodaux.  It had a crawfish pool, a bass pool and a swimming pool.  You could catch the crawfish to eat on site but had to put the bass back.  We didn't fish, or swim!  


We booked in at Hideaway Ponds, where we found a plot beside some trees (where a path led to a bayou).  Then we drove back to the  Wetlands Arcadian Cultural Centre in Thibodaux for the concert.  We'd been told earlier that it started at 5 p.m. and we were there at 4.45 p.m., to be told that it wouldn't start until 5.30 p.m..  As there was nothing else to do, we hung around. 


The session started at 5.40, due to problems with the PA system– if not caused, then certainly exacerbated by the self-important, accordion playing, semi-musician (Paul’s words) who had to keep fiddling with the cables.  session went on until 7.00 p.m., which was far too long as it was pretty bad!  The rhythm-guitarist (wife of the aforementioned semi-musician) played as though she had a brush-handle up her ass (Paul says).  The lap-steel player   played his solos without listening to the rest of the band and kept increasing the tempo, so that the triangle-player (the time-keeper) struggled to adjust.   The fiddle-player was very good.  The mandolin player and second guitar didn't seem to contribute very much as they weren’t amplified.  The guitarist seemed to receive a lot of direction from Mrs Semi-Musician.  


There were several  old folk there who made a regular Monday evening of it, including some very nice and friendly older women.  Their running commentary whenever the Self-Important One began fiddling with cables yet again was delightful: 'Oh no, leave it alone...,' and so on in a soft Louisiana drawl.


Altogether our visit to Thibodaux wasn't a good use of time.  It seemed a nice little town and we had a good meal there, but the campsite was pretty basic and a long way out of town.   The older women at the music session had exhorted us to look around their town and told us places to see.  Unfortunately we didn't have time to see more of Thibodaux next day as we were moving on to Layfayette.

A day in New Orleans (Sunday 26th February)

Day in the French Quarter of New Orleans.  Set off at 9.00 a.m in the free shuttle bus from New Orleans West camp-ground.  Driven by Scott, who runs the site with his wife and son.  Went by the scenic route, with commentary from Scott – who was at great pains to tell us that he wasn't a tour guide as tour guides have to have a license.  We drove along part of the River Road, alongside the levee and, later on, through part of the Garden District.  We saw a variety of housing, from clap-board homes to grand ante-bellum houses on Charles Street.  The Charles Street houses had very narrow frontages because they were built at the time when buildings were taxed according the the frontage, so they were built to extend a long way back from the road.  One house had marble steps to the front door, which reputedly cost more than the rest of the building.


One of the other passengers was a woman celebrating her 65th birthday by going to one of the many casinos in New Orleans.  Gambling in casinos and on slot machines seems to be much more commonplace and acceptable over here.  Later on, a woman in her 60s,  who worked in the Visitor Centre at Thibodaux spoke of visiting a local RV park every now and again to play the fruit machines, because it was good fun. 


Scott dropped us off at the steamboat dock, close by the French Quarter at around 10.00 a.m and said he'd be there to collect us at 5.30 p.m.


Scott had recommended coffee and beignets at the Café du Monde on Decatur Street (the street nearest the river).   Beignets are a Louisiana speciality -  small deep-fried pastries dusted with lots of castor sugar.  The queue for Café du Monde stretched around the front of the building so we settled for strong black coffee in the Market Cafe further along the river front.  We found a small branch of  Café du Monde in the Mall later on and sampled the beignets there.


We explored the market, then some of the streets of the French Quarter. Also recommended by Scott was the Court of the Two Sisters on Royal Street, which had good food and live traditional jazz music at lunchtimes. We found it, but decided not to go back to eat there as it was very busy and looked pricey.  We returned to the Market Café for lunch.  Anna had her first crawfish etoufeé here and Paul had a fried crawfish Po' Boy (his second Po' Boy, of several). 


It was a cold, sunny day, which turned into a cold drizzly day by mid-afternoon. Anna had backache and a cold.


We stayed at New Orleans West for a second night.

Mobile to New Orleans (Saturday 25th February)

[This duplicates some of the last post]

Drove into Mobile and parked in the lot at Fort Conde, in downtown Mobile.  We went to the Welcome Centre there.  Someone at the Shady Acres campground had suggested that the best way to get to look around downtown mobile was to use the free shuttle buses (Wave) that do a circuit there – the stops are marked by blue umbrellas.


We got off the bus at Dauphin Street and had coffee at Serda's, 'the best coffee shop in town'.  Mobile was very quiet – lots of evidence of Mardi Gras – decorated houses and balconies, beads and ribbons in trees, and draped over lamp-posts and fire hydrants.


Decided to visit the African-American Heritage Museum, which was a little off the beaten track.  One of the staff in the Welcome Centre had given us a leaflet and it was supposed to be open, but wasn't.


Back to downtown and lunch at Winzell's Oyster House ('fried, stewed and nude') where we both had fried oysters – Anna with salad, Paul in a Po'Boy (his first Po'Boy).


A Po'Boy is a southern sandwich – half a baguette stuffed with fish or meat and sometimes salad, often served with fries.


Got bus back to Welcome Centre where Paul had to walk very fast (he says it wasn't 'the runs') to get to the toilet ('just one fall of soot and it was done,' he says).


We paid a brief visit to the Mobile Museum but it cost $5 each to get in and it was a large building and Paul didn't think we had time to look around :(


Back to RV, leaving Mobile on the I10 west towards New Orleans.  We stopped at the Welcome Center just over the Mississippi border and – at last – got a better, larger-scale map than the one we'd been using.  This was our first free state map – we missed the Welcome Center when crossing from Georgia into Alabama.  We also got a complementary cup of coffee and a Mississippi badge and lots of leaflets.  The Center was staffed by woman in her forties with red-pink hair and an older man.  They were very helpful.


60 miles further on the I10 west we reached the Louisiana border and another Welcome Center – another free state map, more leaflets and another badge!  Woman working there gave us very good directions to the |New Orleans West camp-site ('you've done this before, I can tell, ' said Paul).  We followed them to the letter!  Part of the route took us over the Lake Pontchartrain Bridge which went on and on for quite a while it's at least 15 miles long [check this].


Having found the site and booked in we went down the road a way to the Breaux Mart to buy some food to cook.

Saturday: from Alabama to Mississippi and into Louisiana

Mobile was the original home of Mardi Gras and there was still a lot of evidence about of the festival, which ended on Tuesday.   In downtown Mobile, trees and lampposts and even parking meters were still festooned with beads and ribbons and the few non-tourists in evidence had a subdued air, as if still recovering from the excesses of the previous weeks.

We parked near the Old Fort and caught the free bus to Dauphin Street.  After coffee at Serda's ('best coffee house in town'), we browsed along Dauphin Street awhile, then detoured off up Jackson Street to find Martin Luther King Jr Boulevard and the African American Archives and Museum.  According to the displayed opening hours it should have been open, but the door was firmly locked.

On the way back to Dauphin Street we came across an ominous, fort-like building, guarded by gold, sphinx-like  figures.  One of the great black doors - which must have been at least eight feet high - stood open, but didn't invite entry.

The cornerstone of the building described it as a 'Grand Lodge of Alabama' - which we thought must denote some kind of Klan origins.  Later on, at lunch, Paul asked our waiter about the building.  He described it as the local Tabernacle and said that anyone could go and look around.


I looked for more information on Google, but couldn't find anything.  As far as I can make out though it was probably some kind of Freemason's Lodge.  I read somewhere that these often did have Klan connections in the south.

 We had lunch at Wintzell's Oyster House and Restaurant (established in 1938), where oysters are served 'fried, stewed and nude'.  I had an oyster salad and Paul had his first Po' Boy, with fried oysters.  Our waiter told us that the building is the oldest wooden-structured building in Alabama.  We weren't sure whether to believe him. 

Friday (Day 3): Interstate 65 to Mobile, via the Old Courthouse, Monroeville

Having spent the night at the KOA (Kampgrounds of America|) site at Clanton, on I 65, north of Montgomery, we began the day by driving south on I 65, back down through Montgomery - which has a very fine park and art gallery, apparently, and was also the home of Scott (Great Gatsby) and Zelda Fitzgerald.  We'd intended to stop in Montgomery yesterday and explore a little, but getting lost in Columbus put paid to that!


The previous evening, in Clanton,  we had been warned of the possibility of 'severe weather' during the night, in the form of high winds (we'd experienced a fair bit of buffeting on the way there).  Fortunately this didn't happen and I slept better than I had since arriving in the USA.  We did have a downpour of very heavy rain at around 8.00 a.m.

We set off from Clanton at around 9.30 a.m., when the rain had stopped, heading for Mobile - about 220 miles south, down Interstate 65. We found the Bama Country radio station on 98.9 FM - country music with regular updates on the weather.  Severe thunderstorm warnings had been issued for parts of southern Alabama that morning (downgraded from a tornado warning).  Fortunately we missed the worst of the storm and just had some heavy rain and glowering skies.


We took a planned detour en route, to Monroeville.  Monroeville was the hometown of both Harper Lee (author of To Kill a Mockingbird) and Truman Capote.  We arrived there in the early afternoon.  It is a small, friendly town but very quiet on a Friday afternoon - it seemed to be early closing.  


In Monroeville, we visited the Old Courthouse Museum, which has information on both authors.  The Courthouse was the setting for the courthouse scenes in the movie of the film.  Harper Lee spent much of her childhood there, watching her father  - a lawyer - present cases in the courtroom.

Lost in Columbus

On our very roundabout route from Forsyth, Georgia, to Clanton, Alabama, on Thursday (see Paul's post), we got lost in the vicinity of Columbus, which is about halfway between Macon and Montgomery.  I mentioned the other day that I am reading 'The Heart is a Lonely HUnter' by Carson McCullers.  Well, Columbus was her hometown and was the setting for the novel.  I'd have liked to visit, but we hadn't scheduled a stop there as there wasn't really time, so I'd forgotten that we were even passing through.  As it happened, if we'd had adequate road maps for Georgia and Alabama (particularly Alabama) and had known where we were going, we could have stopped off and explored Culumbus and still made it to Clanton in bettter time (and better temper). As it was we lost and found Highway 80 several times and ended up in 'Uptown Columbus' by accident.  But of course we didn't have the time or opportunity to stop.  Columbus is a big, sprawling city and \I'm sure Carson McCullers wouldn't recognise it now!


I did have time to take a couple of pictures.

Advertising, alongside Highway 80 in downtown Columbus.

Street art in uptown Columbus (where we stopped and asked directions).

Thursday - Day 2

Away from the campsite just after 9am and went to have a coffee in the Whistle Stop Cafe, Juliette. This was featured in the film 'Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe'. It didn't open however until 11am so we made our way through Barnsville and onto a  non intentional, circuitous route to Clanton, Alabama where we spent our second night on the road. This could have been very exciting as the site owner came around to tell all that if the extreme weather warning siren sounded we should congregate in the stormproof building at the edge of the camp and stay there until the stiff breeze had quietened to a mere whisper. It had been quite windy driving during the day and was also very warm and humid. A bit disappointing when it didn't happen!
~ Paul

Day 1: Atlanta to Forsyth

Picked up and drove away our RV by 2pm. On the road tried to convince my fellow road users ( who strangely seemed to be mostly American) that driving on my side of the road was the most appropriate course of action. This was not going to wash and so I begrudgingly had a sulk and gave in. We drove 50+ miles to Forsyth KOA site and stayed the night (photos to follow).
~Paul

Diner, Bud and Carson McCullers

Ate in the local diner yesterday evening. In an attempt to make up for the stodgy airline food consumed earlier in the day, I had a salad with ham and turkey.  It wasn't great.  I also had 2 bottles of Bud, thinking it would help me to sleep.  I drink so rarely that I forget that it disturbs my sleep rather than easing it! Slept ok  for about 4 hours then intermittently.  Read my book for an hour in the middle of the night.  I've been reading some southern literature in preparation for the trip and am about halfway through Carson McCullers' 'The Heart is a Lonely Hunter'. 

Complementary breakfast in the hotel - not great!

Morning television

Sat in our hotel room watching breakfast tv - uniformly awful. People who have eaten too much talking to or about people who have eaten too much. Check out at 11 am then cab to pick up RV.
~ Paul

Arrival - Atlanta

View from the balcony of Room 805, Best Western Hotel, Atlanta.

Getting into the USA seemed a lot more difficult than when I was here in 1999! Baggage re-checked when we landed and we walked over a mile at the airport - no exaggeration! Very tired now - been awake for over 18 hours. It's just getting dark outside and fire engines have been screaming along the freeway beneath our window. Clear sky, 16C.

Enough said for the moment! Tomorrow we collect the RV and the trip begins ...