Well. At some point I had to break the Southern Hemisphere tradition and stick to the north, and thus travelling in June-Augustish.
And at some point I had to break the Eastern Hemisphere tradition and head west. And thus, USA/CAN, here I come!
Liberty Bell, Independence Museum, Freedom fries, and the best cheese steak in the known universe. It’s all in America’s first capitol: Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love.
The stairs to the art museum is probably more famous than the museum itself, and most of us, including myself, ran up the stairs, waving our arms triumphantly upon reaching the top. Rocky style!
The capitol of the world’s most powerful nation is totally void of skyscrapers. What it lacks in tall buildings, it takes back in monuments and memorials. Washington DC is jam-packed with structures honouring dead presidents (and sometimes their wives); Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, Vietnam veteran memorial and so forth. The Smithsonian institute is huge here, and a visit to the American History Museum and Museum of Natural History was a must. And of course the Capitol Building and a certain white house.
At the very border to North Carolina (which I crossed, just because), we put on lifejackets and helmets and grabbed a paddle. To the imaginary sound of banjo music we entered the raft and strode gently down the river. It wasn’t gentle for a long time, though. Rapids were ahead, and we all got wet, we all fell out, we broke the raft and we even managed to make the guide swim. Couldn’t be better value for the money, could it? Apparently, it could; local Moonshine was served at night, and when in Rome…
Once there lived a musician of sorts in Memphis. His name was Elvis Aaron Presley, and his home, called Graceland, is now a museum.
But Tennessee is so much more than rock’n’roll and Elvis; bang in the centre of the state lies Nashville, home of country AND western. Obviously we went to an open mike bar and drank Bud. Yee-haw, y’all!
Leaving Louisisana, crossing Mississippi (the river and the state), the state is now Tennessee, and the city Memphis. At Lorraine hotel, the Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated 1968, and the building and its surroundings are now The Civil Rights Museum.
It was still hota as hell, so we all welcomed the grey clouds. Until they opened their gates and unleashed the Niagara on our yet unfinished tents.
It may be big, but it aint easy. If Independence eve caused every bloke and his mum to go out partying on the streets of New Orleans, then Independence Day caused every bloke and bird and his mum, uncle, grandpa and niece to do likewise. It was crowded, to say the least.
The fireworks were stunning and the semi-organised dancing gay moves on the street was good for a laugh. And embarking on the mostly impossible task of finding a taxi, we found ourselves in the middle of a mass panic, with hundreds of people running away from something. That something turned out to be a shooting, but the hysteria lasted only a few seconds and the place was packed with cops. And we even found a taxi.
The Big Easy. The Sodom and Gomorrah on the Mississipp’. Home of pirates, drunks, and whores. Crummy, lousy, rancid, and rank. New Orleans.
It was hot hot hot and expensive expensive expensive walking the streets of Louisiana’s, and possibly Americas, party capitol. Drinking is not only allowed on the streets, but almost encouraged. And so it was, that many too many bucks were spent on Abitas, Hurricanes, Seabreezes and Handgrenades before finally catching a taxi back.
And all that jazz.
The Riverwalk in San Antonio is a pleasant one, at nighttime bustling with life with restaurants, pubs and cafés covering the semi-submerged riverbanks. A steak is a must in the cattle state, and also karaoke seemed to be on the agenda. The entire group made an effort with Livin’ on a Prayer, followed by me covering Bohemian Rhapsody to cheers and applause from the rest.
