Boogity, boogity, boogity...

I was able to enjoy a lie-in this morning but I felt so sorry for Nick who had to be in work at something horrible like 0700. I’d like to think he made it on time but I have no idea as I slept right through and didn’t surface until mid morning. When I finally did wake up, I couldn’t wait to get in the car and head on out. Katie and I were off to Lowry Park Zoo for the day!

I hadn’t been to the zoo for years and years - although it was something that Katie and I said we’d do back in the UK – but, when she left the UK, my excuse to go and hang out at the zoo for the day left with her. I thought it only right that we should take the opportunity to right this terrible wrong!

I’m sure no zoo is ever going to be very popular with the environmentalists (the clue is in last ten letters) but Lowry Park Zoo, despite being voted #1 Family Friendly Zoo, has come in for particular criticism over the years. They claim that the animals are not well looked after and that their living conditions are not acceptable. They point to an incident in 2006, when a 14-year old tiger was shot after escaping from her pen, as proving their claims. The zoo has spent a large amount of time and money improving conditions for the animals in recent years and I looked forward to seeing for myself.

For the first (and, as it turned out, only) time on this trip, we had a few problems with the satnav directions and we did several laps of the industrial wasteland surrounding Ybor City. We both turned our noses up a little at the place but, it turns out, it’s actually quite a draw. I struggled to get my head round this concept when I was told but, to be fair, maybe we didn’t go down every road. I’m going to make a point of stopping by next time I’m in the area to see if there actually was something that I missed!

When we reached the zoo we struggled to park the car as the lot was rammed solid – surely a good sign – before handing over our money (quite a lot of it) and heading off to see the animals. I was particularly looking forward to seeing the turtles and the big cats but I loved it all. The elephants put on a show for us – I thought there was going to be violence for a bit there – although I don’t think it’s unfair to say they smelt pretty bad! I got to feed a giraffe which, even though it cost me three bucks for the pleasure, was pretty cool it has to be said. We were struggling to work out exactly where we were and where we wanted to go as there was just so many animals to see so we decided to get our bearings by taking a ride on the chairlift – another five bucks – where we finally got a grasp on just how big the place was.

A number of hours later we decided to head off back to the car – tired but happy – it had been a really good day; we’d had some great weather and seen some cool animals but, best of all, I’d finally got to catch up with an old friend over a year since I’d last seen her. It hadn’t been a cheap day by any means but we couldn’t resist stopping at the gift shop as we left (you really thought they’d miss another opportunity to make some money out of us?!) where we picked up a little present for Nick who was working both his and Katies shift at the bar, as well as a little souvenir for me!

I couldn’t go to Tampa and miss the opportunity to tick another ballpark of my list so we headed towards Tropicana Field in St Petersburg. The satnav worked just fine this time but, other than that, the plan was a total flop as the place was completely closed down and locked up. Even the shop was stripped bare and empty. It almost looked as if the tenants had done a moonlight flit! Damn them – the opportunity to pick up a Florida Marlins baseball would have to wait for another day.

We headed back towards Sarasota across the new Sunshine Skyway Bridge – the worlds longest bridge with a cable-stayed main span. It was a beautiful spectacle to watch the sun set across Tampa Bay as we crossed the bridge and I put my foot down to get to the other side (5.5 miles is a long way!) in the hope of getting a photo with the sun setting behind the bridge. We finally reached the other side and pulled off the highway onto the Skyway Fishing Pier – ingeniously constructed from the approach road to the original bridge. We never got that photo but it was good to get out of the car and marvel at the sheer scale of the bridge that I’d first seen back at home on the Discovery Channel.

After stopping at the apartment to take Lou for walkies we drove down to the bar where both Nick and Kate work. He’d been working since 7am this morning and, after I led him astray the previous evening, he was looking shattered. Katie dived behind the bar to help him out but he was kept busy until closing time whilst I sat on the other side of the bar drinking his beer and getting to know the locals. I felt somewhat guilty but I was, yet again, made so welcome that the feeling soon passed. It was soon silly o’clock the next morning and we were closing the bar up for the night. Even then though he didn’t slow down; offering lifts to his kitchen staff and making sure they got home okay.

I had come to Florida expecting not to like Nick for having taken my friend away from me but I could see already that she’d done exactly the right thing in relocating. She’d found herself a good man, some great friends and the weather simply fantastic. I was pleased for her but, as I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t help but think… I could see myself living here. But that was just one of those things you feel whilst you’re on holiday. Wasn’t it? I guess we’d have to see…

I had tickets with my name on waiting for me at will call at Miami-Homestead Speedway but, for now at least, they would have to wait. Awaking early I set off from the back door of the hotel to watch the sun rise over South Beach. I’d worn my walking boots which was lucky as, before I knew it, I’d walked twenty blocks along the almost deserted beach (apart from a tramp and a couple of exercise freaks) and arrived at the end of the road – South Pointe Park – and could go no further. The sun was already starting to warm the air up and I stayed there for a few minutes talking to some guys fishing from the pier before heading back towards the hotel along Ocean Drive.

The area is famous for the people watching possibilities and the lovely old buildings of the Art Deco District – which Ocean Drive bisects – made a fantastic backdrop as I watched locals and visitors try to outdo each other in the posing stakes. I would have loved to stop and enjoy the al fresco breakfast experience myself but I had put myself behind schedule by walking so far and had to forego the posing and make do with a bag of cashews, a giant oversized Snickers bar and a can of Red Bull as I made my way back to the hotel for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

I retraced my steps of the night before as I made my way to – hopefully – retrieve the rental car. The local characters still looked a little menacing to someone more used to the quiet streets of suburban London but started to relax after striking up a conversation with a pretty brunette as we stood waiting for the lights to change.

The car was still where I had parked it and untouched – phew! I was starting to relax but then realised that I was being watched as I set up the satnav and, not wishing to be the next statistic, I took off without a clue as to which way I was heading. I soon found a suitable spot to pull over and was able to programme the device to take me out towards the vast Sawgrass Mills Outlet Center near Fort Launderdale, stopping off at Dolphins Stadium en route to pick up the traditional souvenir baseball which I bring back from all of my trips.

It transpired that the only shop open on the day was the Dolphins shop and they didn’t stock any baseball merchandise at all. I managed to find one later in the day from a small independent store in Sawgrass Mills but ended up spending very little money there in the end. I spent several hours exploring the shops but only picked up a couple of T shirts in the end. Seeing I’d flown in with a very large gap in my suitcase for the inevitable large stack of bargain clothing, that I fully expected to end up buying, I headed down to Homestead somewhat concerned that I would actually need to work out how use one of those huge laundry machines in the hotel!

It was nice to be able to cross another track off the virtual list and I was pleased to find that they had my tickets at will call. However, upon inspecting them, they had not given me what I had ordered so I was forced to join the back of the queue to speak with the supervisor. After some discussion, and a couple of phone calls, she decided that the simplest solution would be to start opening the envelopes containing other peoples orders until she found suitable pit and hospitality passes that she could give to me. I left the area promptly before she changed her mind and made my way to the vast area given over to trade stands and merchandising. I do hope those other people were able to collect their own passes without too much hassle!

A hundred bucks worse off I made my way into the track along with my carrier bag full of goodies from the #42 souvenir trailer and settled down for the start of the Busch race. It would start around ½ hour before sunset and the low sun proved to be a real issue in trying to follow the progress of the drivers in the early laps. I have no idea how difficult it must have been from the inside of the car but I am sure that they were even more relieved than the crowd when the sun finally dipped behind the grandstands.

Four hours later I was heading back to the interstate to return to the hotel on Collins Avenue for the evening. It was quite a drive back there from Homestead but I had booked it when I was unable to find anything closer online whilst planning the trip back home in England. It turned out to be a wise move as I passed not one single hotel or motel with a ‘vacancies’ sign out before I hit South Beach itself. Seems the race was a bigger event than I expected. And I still wasn’t really ‘feeling it’. hmmm…

I don’t know what it is. When I wake up I can shower, clean my teeth, eat breakfast, check out and be in the car within 30 minutes. At no point on this trip have we managed anything less than 90. That would generally include packing and unpacking the bags half a dozen times, flicking through all the TV stations 18 times and, when you finally seem ready to hit the road, taking the bags in and out of the car 24 times. Then there’s that final problem that we all encounter of having to return to the room to check that you’ve not left your shoes behind, only to realise that they’re on your feet. You wanna know something? The earlier we get up, the slower the process. The slower the process, the earlier we have to get up. It’s painful, it really is!

Thankfully there’s relatively little driving to be done now so things are all very loose for the final two days of the journey. Today we headed down to the Museum of Aviation on Robins Air Force Base in Warner Robins. It was an easy 100 mile drive south and I’d been looking forward to visiting but, if truth be told, had little idea what to expect as we don’t really have that sort of thing in the UK.

On the way south we got to talking about the best and worst parts of the trip so far and we both agreed on the shopping as having been the biggest problem for us. Andy had run out of clothes and was regretting not buying more and I, having spent an hour last night trying to ram everything that I had bought into my bags, was worrying about how to get everything home again! I spotted a sign for yet another designer outlet center - are these things everywhere or what? - and decided to swing off so that Andy could get a few more bits. He came away happy and I, seemingly unable to resist, came away annoyed at myself. Seriously, if I get stopped at customs in Manchester there’s gonna be issues!

We pulled into a visitor center along the interstate for some driving directions to the museum and, yet again. I was seriously impressed with the people there. I absolutely love visitor centers in the US. We have them back home, of course, but it’s amazing to see how they continue to employ those who are seemingly the worst possible person to do the job. In the US they have it bang on.

Warner Robins itself proved to be just another row of Wendys, McDonalds, Arbys, Taco Bells and the like but, emerging from the other end of fast food row we were greeted with the sight of a fighter plane ahead of us. We were amazed to discover the size of the museum and even more surprised to discover that it was free admission. I was enjoying it already!

Four hours later we emerged with smiles on our faces. Whilst it is a shame to see quite so many planes seemingly abandoned outside in various states of disrepair, the three hangers rammed full of planes (with a fourth under construction) were absolutely fantastic. It would not be unfair to say I enjoyed myself there and, if I’m ever in this area again, I will definitely return to see what they do with the new hanger which, I was told by the very friendly guy on the front desk, was to be devoted to the Second World War, a subject that interests me greatly.

   
Feeling surprisingly tired by now we decided to head back to Atlanta for the baseball, stopping at Atlanta Motor Speedway along the way. This plan was thwarted by a sudden rain storm which caused at least four large wrecks and a lengthy tailback. What is it with rain and people’s inability to drive in it? Instead of stopping at the track we took a detour across country and headed right to the hotel to freshen up before heading to the game.

Just before we were to leave Andy announced that he wasn’t interested in baseball as it ‘took too long.’ Whether it rained or not I was definitely going and so I took off on my own. It was fantastic - not the game, that was terrible - but getting out there on my own again, having the freedom to do what I want to do when I wanted to do it. I think I said it previously but, if that makes me selfish, then shoot me. I had a great time and all but decided on the spot that travelling alone is the future for me. Who’d have thought that six months ago when the idea scared the life out of me? If you’re reading this and have yet to travel alone, do it, you’ll not regret it.

My cold is finally starting to wear off, but that didn’t mean that I managed a good nights sleep, the noise from that truck stop was incredible. How do the truckers themselves sleep?! Oh, and I’m sure there were nasties living in the bed itself… eww! I woke up itching this morning so had a very good scrub in the shower before getting the hell out of there. I think I’ll be laying off the budget motels for a bit…

Having listened to everyone’s advice to head to Graceland as early as possible in the morning, so as to avoid the crowds, I chose to totally disregard it! I don’t like to appear rude (something anyone who has met me may find hard to believe) but the weather most definitely was appearing rude. Very rude in fact. Despite the announcers on Elvis FM boasting that the sun was out in Memphis, the truth of the matter was quite the opposite, huge black storm clouds hung menacingly overhead.

Deciding to play safe I thought it best to leave Graceland til later and do the outdoor thing whilst it was still dry. So I drove straight to Sun Studio. Closed. After a couple of photos of the exterior I hopped back in the car and headed to the top end of Beale Street and started walking back the way that I had come. Despite it all being very colourful, everywhere was closed. Doing great here. I then spotted the stadiums of the FedEx Forum and Autozone Park and went to investigate - both closed. I found myself outside the famous Peabody Hotel (home to the ducks) but couldn’t really be bothered to visit them as a) I don’t really ‘get’ it and b) they were probably asleep like the rest of this town.

Back on Beale Street I was soon at the end of the ‘tourist’ area and in the middle of some sort of inner city wasteland which, although I’m sure was a thriving area once upon a time, was now entirely closed down. It figures.

Having come this far I decided to ’get a feel for the real Memphis’ and continue walking in the direction of Sun Studio where, I thought, I would treat myself to that nice cooked breakfast that I had missed out on in Dallas earlier in the week, Well, having never been in Belfast in the 1970s, I now have a fair idea what it was like, and now realise why they run free shuttle buses between the various tourist sites, tourists getting caught up in a war zone is obviously going to be bad for trade. But I am sat here this evening, rambling, so they obviously felt bad for the lost looking tourist and left him be whilst they went on with the important business of shooting each other.

Back in Europe, the Germans are infamous for staking their claim to the best sun loungers around the hotel pool by getting up whilst it’s still dark and putting their towels on them and then going back to bed. Personally I never understand why the other guests don’t simply throw their towels in the pool and sit themselves down, but I’m getting away from the point here somewhat, that point being that the Germans can be quite rude and overbearing.

The promise of the breakfast had kept me going as I walked across town but, as I rounded the corner and the building came into view, I was greeted by a bus load of German tourists streaming into the building. Oh hell, I thought to myself, purposely putting the stereotypes to the back of my mind. As I entered the front door I was barged out the way by one of the group who reminded me of a contestant on Supermarket Sweep, she was that desperate to get inside! Having stepped inside it didn’t get any better. With that many people crammed into the tiny building there was no chance of getting a table so the idea of breakfast was out the window. Awesome.

Having walked the streets of death once more and arrived safely back at my car I headed off to the National Civil Rights Museum. I visited the MLK birthplace in Atlanta last year and was really impressed with it, so had really been looking forward to visiting this place. A friend who had visited previously had told me that it was on the ‘dodgy side of town’ and, having now experienced the ‘good side of town’ I decided to lock the laptop securely in the trunk, out of sight, and follow the directional signs. Which was a great idea except someone had apparently stolen the signs! I went round in circles before accidently heading back into Arkansas. Twice.

Once I finally arrived I soon realised that the supposed terror of the area around the Lorraine Motel had been vastly overstated! I could have been there an hour earlier but, never mind, at least I got to cross the Mississippi several more times. And discover that there is a museum devoted to metal. Fascinating, I’m sure, but I didn’t stop!

Just like the Book Depository, back in Dallas, I had seen a thousand photos of the Lorraine Motel and it was a strange feeling when I finally laid my own eyes on it. I made my way straight into the museum itself and, once again, was accosted by a local who wanted to know all about England. ‘Aargh, leave me alone, I don’t work for the tourist board’, I thought to myself, as I patiently explained about the entry requirements and work prospects in the UK. I’m just too kind!

The museum was, as expected, very powerful. It was far far too long though and it was a good two hours before I finally saw the light of day again. And that was merely to cross the street and enter the second building. If anyone has actually read every word in these daily rambles, they’d appreciate my frustration as I dragged my aching feet and empty stomach around the exhibits. Don’t get me wrong, I really did enjoy my visit and learned a whole lot, but they really need to find a way to split it down into more ’bite-sized’ parts in my opinion. I don’t actually have any specific suggestions on that front though.

I won’t bore you too much with my trip to Graceland, as it has to be the most over-hyped and over-reported tourist trap in the world, needless to say I was surprised by it. Elvis has never factored much in my life, apart from that time I met him working in my local Burger King and sold my story to the newspaper, of course, but you gotta admire the guys style, so Graceland was one of the first places on my ‘to-do’ list for this trip. My thoughts after the tour? It’s just like the life of the guy himself - over the top and in your face - but I did actually enjoy the experience, even if my wallet did not.

I had no idea where I would be sleeping but, with the weather having turned a corner and looking like it would be dry overnight, I decided that getting the tent out again was the way to go. But where? Thankfully, as with everywhere else I had been on this trip, I had no problem logging on to the internet via an unsecured wi-fi connection and quickly found the Trace State Park, just outside Belden in Mississippi, and sped down there, stopping only at a very scary gas station full of rednecks, hunters and (I am sure) murderers. The gangster rap blaring out as the guys inside played pool and drank bottles of Bud was kinda worrying but I made it to the campground in one piece and settled in for a nice quiet evening.

My previous sore throat had developed into a nasty cold and, unable to breathe properly, I’d been struggling to sleep, so I decided to leave Houston early in the morning, I had to contend with the rush hour traffic as I navigated around the city, something I really should have thought a little more about… it really is no time to be getting used driving a new car! Thankfully I and, more importantly, the car, survived the experience unscathed. Unfortunately, my plan to check out the site of the old Buff Stadium didn’t, I was too early. Damn.

After clearing Houston, I started to relax and enjoy the drive, especially as the day started to warm up and I dropped the roof on the car. I was a little more careful to ensure nothing was going to blow out of the roof this time, as my map had done as I departed the airport after picking up the car!

I work for the European arm of a company based in South Dakota who supply childrens play equipment and, although I knew it was a big business in the US, I had never seen one of our display areas over here. So, having spotted one alongside the interstate, I was suitably intrigued to swing the car around to go and find it. After 15 minutes of negotiating the various access roads I ended up at their front door. It was closed… fantastic. My success continues!

Somewhat more of a success was the quick stop at the Sam Houston Statue, a rather Texan 70ft tall monument to one of their most illustrious sons. I had seen a small sign, about 70 miles north of Houston, pointing to the ‘Statue Visitor Center’ and decided to leave the interstate to investigate. I had no idea what to expect so you can imagine my surprise as I made my way through a wooded area and was confronted with such a huge statue.

Up until now I’d been testing out the GPS facility of Microsoft Streets and Trips with some success. As I neared the Cedar Hill State Park, where I planned to camp for the night, my luck changed. After going round and round in circles, and having endured several of the infamous Windows Blue Screen Of Death ™ I finally arrived at the gate to the park - the back gate - and it was locked. I gave up and asked a bemused local resident for directions and found my way to the entrance within a matter of minutes.

Having set up camp by the lake and made use of the fantastically clean (and hot!) showers, I set off for Arlington, where I had tickets for the baseball that evening.

Realising I had several hours to kill I decided to head off to Texas Motor Speedway to have a look at the venue and, with luck, get a track tour.  The usual deal is that you ask at the track shop about tours but, despite a minibus being parked outside the door with ‘Texas Motor Speedway Track Tours’ written on the side, I was informed that they did not offer track tours at the venue.  When pressed further I was informed “not today, not tomorrow, not ever.”  Very helpful!  I then had a very good look at the venue from the comfort of my car and was all but chased off by two security people.  For some reason I didn’t feel too welcome so I headed off!

Back at the ballpark I had time to reflect: two more Rainbow dealers spotted, numerous extra miles driven due to iffy mapping software, and no track tour. My luck, it would seem was continuing. It changed though with a fabulous ballgame - the visitors winning 5-4 - and, this time, I did manage to pick up a souvenir baseball for the collection.  A result at last!