Nashville, TN: Part 1

So, to pick up on yesterday's events.

You meet some people on your travels in America who make you think. Americans like to tell their stories in a way that just isn't done in Britain, and we found our first 'friend' at Durham station. We didn't catch his name, but the big man was friendly and asked us if he was in the right place for the 10:45 bus. Over the next 15 minutes we exchanged pleasantries about our travels but found that in the last five years this man from Georgia had been shot in the spine in Iraq, had recovered and went to work on oil rigs in the Gulf spending weekends in New Orleans, and had now worked his way North on Greyhounds to end up in Asheville where he hoped VA healthcare would cover the treatment he needed from the UNC-Asheville hospital for his recently diagnosed prostate cancer. Wow. You don't meet boring people in the United States.

The Greyhound ride was incredibly smooth, and once I'd got my painful knee into a position that didn't feel like it was going to crumple in the Ryanair-style seating I was able to sit back and enjoy the mountain passes on I-40. The interstate, however, drove right through the middle of the passes and having spent some time in the Smokies last autumn, it was a little disappointing knowing that deeper in the mountains the views would have been incredible.

We took in Cooksville, Waynesville, and WTF-ville on our way towards Tennessee and having been at Greyhound terminals in the major conurbations that had expansive facilities and a lot of activity, seeing the Greyhound stations in sleepy mountain towns was a prominent reminder of how quiet life can be in small-town America. Listening to our fellow passengers point out vintage pick-up trucks on the road and get excited at the possibility of hearing some Elvis at the next rest-stop as the sun set over the Ridge and Valley region made Sam and I smile.

So, we got to Nashville and walked in the dark for about 1.5 miles to the hostel, quickly finding that downtown Nashville doesn't feel dangerous - that was a feeling that would be confirmed on our next full day in this friendly city. We got to the hostel and found that like many of the others we'd collectively visited, hostels in America are excellent.

We dumped our stuff (well, I did but Sam dutifully made his bed so he wouldn't have to do so in a drunken haze later on - a wise decision) and headed out to find food, drink and music. We found a frankly terrible burger at a drive-thru joint, but then headed to the plethora of bars in Midtown. After wondering which one to head in I wandered towards 'Winners'. We walked in to find three acoustic guitarists playing country tunes and plenty of happy patrons sipping Buds from table ice buckets. The music was good. The beer was cold. We were happy.

After sleeping in a room with a snorer that would put my father to shame (I woke him by slamming the taps on in the middle of the night in an attempt to stop the alien-like sounds), we woke up and hit the city. In the distance the State Capitol loomed and we headed there first. I'd visited five Capitols before and Tennessee's was a stellar exhibit. Nestled on a hilltop in the middle of the city the Capitol, Supreme Court and statue gardens overlook the surrounding city. Tennessee's White House alumni were a stark contrast with statues of flamboyant Andrew Jackson and Reconstruction-villain Andrew Johnson set apart in the gardens. Following this we headed into Nashville's downtown and basked in the sunshine overlooking LP Field by the Cumberland River. I don't know if its the clay, the copper or the pollution, but something discouraged me from taking a dip.



We then moved onto Broadway where I finally got my first western hat (its practical sun-shielding uses immediately became evident) and we moved out of downtown back the the hostel where the internet, sofas and the NBA playoffs on TV waited for us.

The trip rocks so far, and I'm happy as my laptop tells me its only 103 days until I see Rachy.

Good night and good luck.