I have wanted to travel abroad since my early twenties but life just got in the way. Now at the tender age of 56 I have finally ventured beyond the borders of my homeland of Australia. If it wasn’t for my partner Glen I would never have chosen to venture to the United States of America. However, I wanted to see and experience where Glen was born and grew up, and the lure of the Clarksdale Juke Joint Festival was too strong to resist. I didn’t know what to expect or how I would feel in this similar yet foreign land. However, what I did feel surprised and delighted me, and I have to say that my trip to the States has subtly changed and expanded my view of life in unexpected ways. So please join us on our journey down the brown Delta and beyond.
Day 1 – we arrive in Memphis and are driven to Motel 6 by Bhali the Uber driver. The window is down and the air is warm and sweet. After a long and tiring plane trip I begin to relax. Then after showering we walk into downtown Memphis – about 4 km. The scene is foreign yet strangely familiar. First we walk down to the mighty Mississippi and drink in the view from there. Then Downtown we go into Huey’s Burger Bar and I feel like I’ve been dropped into a 1970’s American movie. We continue on and end up on the famous and infamous Beale Street. The first bar we walk into I’m beckoned by the elderly black singer to join him for a dance. To end the night we end up in a bar predominantly occupied by black people and the female blues singer engages the audience with her audacious charm. And so I’m initiated into the warmth and engaging quality of Memphis right from the get go.
Huey’s Burger Bar, complete with toothpicks embedded in the ceiling – a fun contest to raise money for local charity.
Day 2 – after a small sleep in we’re up and heading Downtown by foot again. We check out the vibrant yet slightly murky streets. For a place that was once voted the cleanest city in the state, Memphis is looking pretty grotty now. The Memphis City Beautiful Commission was officially established by a city ordinance on July 1, 1930, making it the first and oldest beautification commission in the nation. Its mission was to transform and keep Memphis a beautiful, healthful and safe place in which to live. See this link for further information – https://memphiscitybeautiful.org/about-us/history
We meet Rida from Planters Peanuts and he regales us with his life story. He’s originally from Israel I think and came to the States in the 80’s to continue to study Civil Architecture. His wife now has MS. We continue onto Huey’s Burger Bar again, where we enjoy yummy food and warm southern hospitality. We wander around seeing and feeling the warmth of Memphis. She has such a unique scent. I’d come back just for that scent. It’s a kind of musky sweetness. We rock into the Rock and Soul museum and spend a good couple of hours there. It is amazing in detail and engagement. We land in Pearls Oyster House for dinner and are treated with more of that southern hospitality by young William junior as he pays us close attention and regales us of his story and desires for the future. While there the skies open up and for a brief time the streets become a torrent of water. We then embrace Beale Street again and end up in that first bar we entered – the Blues Hall Juke Joint. We enjoy the music and I engage in a social and political conversation with a lady from another American state visiting her daughter there. She profusely apologises for Trump. I tell her I think we need a whole new economic system and it is up to all of us to create it. She responds with a “right, right”. While I deeply engage with this lady Glen chats to two ladies from Sydney – fellow Aussies. He also engages with the band members and tells them about his Jazz radio show and how he will take their story back to Oz. He also tries to swap t-shirts with one of the band members but the Harp player doesn’t want to swap his t-shirt that states, “rooted in the heart of Memphis” – spiritual meaning for him. We stay there until late and this time catch a cab back to the motel.
At the Planters Peanuts store with Rida
Day 3 – after a torrential downpour the night before we make our way to Macca’s near our motel for a not so enjoyable breakfast. We then catch a bus Downtown and from there find our way to the Pyramid – the Bass Pro Sports centre and Cedar Lodge, as well as the Welcome Centre. I have mixed and unexpected emotional responses to the Bass Pro Sports centre, with its somewhat familiar Americana. Is it all those American shows I have watched on TV that makes this all so familiar? But what about the seemingly familiar scents and general feel of this place? You don’t get that from a television show. From there we wander back Downtown and enjoy some traditional Memphis fare at the Blue City Cafe. Yum yum to Soul Stew. We wander some more down Beale and check out A. Schwabs, where we see some interesting merchandise and finish with a coffee and a sundae. After walking that off we finish at Alfred’s back on Beale where we enjoy a light salad for dinner and some interesting conversation with Ian Burnett the bar tender, who gives Glen some Soul/Country music artists suggestions. We then catch a bus back to the motel for a reasonably early night. At the bus stop we are assisted by a fellow bus traveller who then asks Glen for help with texting a friend who has let him down. Glen happily obliges. Throughout these last few days we are approached several times by people wanting money, each with their own hard luck story. We give to a couple of people but know we cannot give to all.
Soul Stew – I wish I could share with you
According to the University of Memphis (2018) ‘in general, poverty rates for the City of Memphis continue to be higher than poverty rates in Shelby County for every category. Both are higher than poverty rates in Tennessee, and Tennessee poverty rates are higher than U.S. poverty rates in almost every category (racial and ethnic groups, and age groups).’
Day 4 – so today was a slow starter but we make our way to the Memphis Zoo, where we have mixed emotions about what we see. It is heartbreaking to see the larger animals pacing back and forth and looking somewhat distressed. In my heart I am wishing them back to the wild. As we walk back towards the bus stop I have that same déjà vu feeling again that I have been here before. I know this place my heart says and tears of recognition well in my eyes. Before catching the bus back Downtown we go into Star Bucks for a coffee and I tell Dawn our server of my experience. She says I am probably a soul that once lived here and now returned to Memphis, and then gives us free coffee. Can you believe it? She says to pass it on and so we do when we go back to the Oyster House for dinner and generously tip William junior, our attendant again. I also tell William about my déjà vu feelings and he says it gives him goose–bumps hearing that. We end up at Alfred’s with Ian Burnett again before catching a cab back to the motel. Amazingly our driver Cedric was born in Detroit just like Glen. What a small and entangled world we live in. Sadly, back on Beale Street, we were approached by June, an older lady who was asking for money for something I couldn’t quite make out. Regrettably I didn’t give it to her. What a heart wrenching world we live in. Did we pay it forward to the right person? The universe doesn’t have an answer for me right now.
What can I say about heart wrenching times like these? Except, perhaps there is a beauty beyond the grief. Unrecognizable due to its simplicity and purity. Heart wrenching? – I hear you query. But I say to you – Do you not grieve the freedom of wild animals locked in cages, pacing back and forth in tormented despair? Do you not grieve the lost culture and freedom of a noble people, living in harmony with Mother Earth? Can we ever regain these things? Can we ever find it in our hearts to do so? (Catzen 2019)
Day 5 – we walk down Union Avenue again towards Downtown. On the way we pass Sun Studios where Elvis and others recorded their first albums, and pop inside briefly to connect to the vibe. After this, so that we can exchange our Australian dollars for American dollars, we call into the First Tennessee Bank. It is a major process of having to go upstairs and present a passport, organise paperwork, and then go back downstairs to the teller, get thumb printed and then finally get our money. We then call into Huey’s Burger Bar one more time where we have brunch. After that we call into the Beale Street Caravan radio production location and tell the Executive Director/Producer how we can hear their program out of Hobart. Kevin Cubbins is tickled pink as he wasn’t aware how far some of their syndicated programs were reaching. He takes down Glen’s email details and says if he wasn’t busy in a funding meeting he would have taken us out to lunch. We wander down Beale again and then do the informative and relaxing riverboat cruise. After the cruise we wander further up Main Street and stumble upon the old Lorraine Motel site where Dr Martin Luther King was shot and killed. It has now been converted into America’s first civil rights museum. While there I feel a strange buzzing in my ears and can feel the energy held there from that event. After stopping at an uptown bar we wander back to Beale when we bump into Ian Burnett from Alfred’s Bar. He suggests the Rendezvous rib joint for dinner. On the way there we are approached by a man saying that he is collecting money for a homeless organisation. Because I am wanting to pay the generosity forward from the day before I pull out what I think is a $20 note to give to the man. However, as I give it to him, Glen sees that it is a $50 note. The man quickly shoves the note into his pocket and refuses to pull it back out or acknowledge what it is. I tell him I would be happy to give him a twenty if he gives my fifty back, but it is no use. The man just shakes his head and walks away. So I guess it is a lesson in letting go. However, it feels like a kick in the guts and is a little let down for our last night here in Memphis. We finish the night back at Alfred’s so we can say so long to Ian and are then driven back to the motel by Ralph the taxi driver who says he will be happy to pick us up in the morning to take us to the Greyhound bus depot. So far it has been one amazing and crazy emotional and physical adventure, and we’re only five days in. Look out Little Rock here we come.
Day 6 – we are up bright and early and pack our bags to leave Memphis. One last yummy Motel 6 coffee and then Ralph is there to pick us up. At the bus station they don’t like Glen’s attempt at paper conservation in printing our tickets on both sides of the paper, as they need separate tickets for each of us. However, the lovely lady in the office reprints our tickets from their system. While waiting for the bus we chat to David Reed, a mediation lawyer who tells us he thinks Trump’s wall is a joke. Now on the bus we are heading to Little Rock. We drive through miles of wet land being prepared for planting, interspersed with run down towns, some small patches of forest and a smorgasbord of US take-out joints. After four hours we arrive in Little Rock and with our heavy back packs make our way to our motel, located on the not so up-market side of town. We are greeted warmly by a West Indian man and then find our spacious and comfortable room. After settling in we walk over a foot bridge converted from an old rail bridge, which was part of the famous Choctaw Oklahoma and Gulf line that entered Little Rock in 1898. On the other side we find that the old station has been renovated in 2002 to serve as the home of the University of Arkansas Clinton School of Public Service and the Clinton Foundation. We then make our way along the river to the Little Rock Market site located in what appears to be an old warehouse. From there we check out some of the city streets and find a more cosmopolitan vibe than Memphis. We enjoy dinner in a funky retro style pub and are served by a young woman named Ivy who has recently gotten out of the air force. We then finish the night in a small park, enjoying some outstanding jazz and funk music. We are blown away by the atmosphere, world class funk band, and beautiful female vocalist. We then walk back across another foot bridge lit up with coloured lights that somehow match our mood.
What shall I pledge my heart to? And you, where does your heart lie?
Day 7 – after a sleep in and doing some washing we walk down to the river to check out the maritime museum and an old WWII submarine. Unfortunately the museum is closed so we wander up to the centre of North Little Rock and catch a trolley car over the river and receive an interesting commentary on some of the history and good eateries of Little Rock from Steve our driver. After disembarking we dine at The Corner, a family run cafe, where we enjoy some scrumptious food. We now make our way to the Pulaski County Courthouse to check out the lead light ceiling designed by Tiffany that Steve told us about. Due to being a courthouse we have to go through a security check just to enter the foyer. However, seeing the ceiling is worth the fuss. From there we make our way to the Historic Arkansas Museum where we find some interesting and beautiful artwork as well as American Indian artefacts and Heart Wrenching history. Then back on the trolley car and back over the river. We dine at Four Quarters bar where we are served by Jimmy who gives me a takeaway container when I ask for a Sauvignon Blanc. Must be my Aussie accent. 😊 To finish the night we take in a baseball game and get to see the home team coming in first. What a blast. What a contrast of feelings and cultural stories today has brought.
Day 8 – we are up at 4am to catch the bus back to Memphis and then onto Clarksdale. The bus driver is a gentle black man from New York who appears to have been badly burned on the face and hands at some time. After about half an hour up the road a man by the name of Rick discovers he should have gotten of the bus four hours earlier. The bus driver tells him, he will have to get off at the next stop and catch another bus back to where he was meant to be. However, Rick shares his misfortune with the rest of us passengers when our bus comes to a shuddering halt just off the highway in Forrest City. We sit in the bus for about two hours before another bus comes from Memphis to pick us up. By the time we make it to Memphis, our connecting bus to Clarksdale has left. Damn! Sierra, a Greyhound bus employee says they can provide us with accommodation for the night and we can catch the bus to Clarksdale the next day. I ask if there is another way to get to Clarksdale today and she tells us that we can catch a courtesy Greyhound cab for around $100. We say yes please as we have accommodation booked in Clarksdale for tonight. So another William, older this time, drives us to our desired destination while sharing photos of his great grandchildren and regaling us of his life story – a common practice around here it seems. We finally arrive at our motel, offload our packs and hit the streets in Clarksdale. After a couple of hours we return to the motel and I call Greyhound via Skype to request a refund for our missed bus ride. After an extremely frustrating process and conversation I am given a case number and told to call back in 24 hours to find the outcome of our request for compensation. We hit the streets again but both Glen and I are feeling quite tired and somewhat overwhelmed. We checkout a few venues and enjoy some more scrumptious American food fare before retiring to our motel room and fading off to a deep southern sleep.
Aaron Henry was born in 1922 in Coahoma County, Mississippi, the son of sharecroppers. From a young age, he worked in the cotton fields alongside his family on the Flowers Plantation outside of Clarksdale. He remembered those years vividly when he recalled, “As far back as I can remember, I have detested everything about growing cotton.” Regardless of his early hardships, education was a priority for the Henry family. After graduating from the all-black Coahoma County Agricultural High School in 1941, Henry worked as a night clerk at a motel, The Cotton Boll Courts, to earn money for college. He was drafted into the United States Army in 1943, and trained with the 381st Infantry Division at Fort McClellan in Alabama. He served as a staff sergeant in the Pacific Theater during World War II, but like most other African-American soldiers, he experienced the segregated practices of the military. He decided then that when he returned home to Mississippi after the war, he would work to gain equality and justice for black Americans. (Constance Curry 2000)
Day 9 – today is the main day of the Clarksdale Juke Joint Festival. It begins cold and wet but people are out and set for a big festival. We walk through the main part of town and white marquees are set up in all of the main streets. There are several barbecue smokers dotted around town. Music is drifting on the breeze and artists from many persuasions are set to sell their wares. I buy a couple of beaded bracelets from Yohannah, a young female artist. We enjoy a cup of Mississippi Mud (renamed by me from Mighty Mississippi) coffee and take in some street music. At The New Roxy we experience some great musicians, including some Blues Brothers impersonators – Bizmo and Christopher. I also like a musician by the name of Kevin Gordon and buy his CD. He has a Bob Dylan kind of sound. We go back to our motel room for a while and I call back Greyhound for a resolution to our request for a refund. After a brief negotiation they agree to refund us for both the trips we had booked for the day before. By the time I am finished on the phone it is raining heavy outside but we head out to make our way to the festival. Our first stop is Travellers Hotel where we hear a young Brazilian woman playing some gentle blues in a cozy atmosphere. However, because there is no food there we head out into the rain and make our way from place to place trying to find somewhere we can get into for dinner, as the rain has driven everyone inside and all the outside food venues are closed. We eventually end up at Ground Zero Blues Club and amazingly get served some food straight away. However, due to the place busting at the seams with people, we have to eat standing up at a bench but we don’t care because we are so hungry at this stage. We stay here for at least a couple of hours listening and dancing to some hard driving blues rock music. Glen meets Guy Davis, a documentary commentator for Beale Street Caravan radio station. How amazing Glen has made this contact after also meeting Kevin Cubbins, the Beale Street Caravan Production Manager back in Memphis. We then brave the rain again and make our way to Reds where we squeeze in once again and get to hear some authentic delta blues from two home grown blues men. At around midnight we make our way back to our hotel room but not before the music finds its way into my soul.
Ground Zero is a blues club in Clarksdale, Mississippi that is co-owned by Morgan Freeman, attorney Bill Luckett, and Memphis entertainment executive Howard Stovall. It got its name from the fact that Clarksdale has been historically referred to as “Ground Zero” for the blues. It opened in May 2001 and is located right next to the Delta Blues Museum.
Day 10 – after a late night we sleep in then make our way to The Pancake House for breakfast but are unable to get in due its popularity this morning. So we make our way back to the Mireka coffee shop and enjoy some more Mississippi Mud coffee. We then go back to the motel to wait for Ken and Rod (Glen’s friends). When they arrive in Clarksdale we meet them at the Stone Pony pizza place for lunch. We now wander around Clarksdale checking out all the historical buildings. We bump into Bubba from the Bank where they had the Welcome Home Aussies party. He tells us he owns property in Clarksdale and is working with others to revitalise the town. Bubba also tells us that Clarksdale, like many other towns in Mississippi, has been hard hit by the mechanization of the cotton industry that happened through the 1940’s and 50’s, which saw many black farmers move to the northern states of America, leaving behind veritable ghost towns. These towns have been further effected by large stores such as Walmart locating out on the highways of these towns, effecting smaller local businesses located in the town centres. As we wander around town we realise most eatery places are closed for the day. Eventually we find our way to the Pancake House where some family of the lady that owns it have come from Chicago Illinois to cook barbecue food for the festival. So we enjoy some beef ribs, mac and cheese, and beans. We all now go back to the motel and chat for a while before retiring for the night.
Two shadows loom large over the town of Clarksdale, Mississippi. One is cast by the devil, who, at the crossroads of highways 49 and 61, gave Robert Johnson his talent with the guitar in return for his soul. The other comes from an Australian flag, flying atop a former bank building to celebrate the achievements of a Melbourne economist. John Henshall fell in love with Clarksdale, known as ground zero of the Delta blues, almost 20 years ago when he drove up Highway 61 from New Orleans after attending an urban economics conference. “This is no bus line tour town,” says local businessperson and “de facto mayor” Kinchen “Bubba” O’Keefe. “You wouldn’t see five cars downtown. I looked up one day, and saw this man lurking about – he wasn’t lost, but he was looking for somewhere to go. We struck up a conversation.” ….[This conversation eventually led to] a major study of the town, turning it into a thesis and book, ‘Downtown Revitalisation and Delta Blues in Clarksdale, Mississippi: Lessons for Small Cities and Towns’. (Elle Hardy 2018) from https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2018/june/1527775200/elle-hardy/curing-clarksdale-s-blues
Day 11 – up early so we can have breakfast with Ken and Rod before we catch a bus to Greenville. The bus is close to an hour late. The ride is uneventful, however we are dropped off several miles from the town centre and it takes us two hours to walk in. First along the highway, which feels very precarious with all the traffic rushing past us, and then through the run down lower socioeconomic areas of Greenville. By the time we reach our destination my feet are covered in blisters and I can barely walk any more. Greenville is such a strange place but perhaps not dissimilar to many other places in Mississippi. As we walk along the highway we see dozens of motels and takeout joints, as well as various businesses such as Walmart, and furniture and auto stores. However, in the town centre the majority of businesses are closed and the buildings are left dilapidated and often vandalised. The cookie cutter stores stacked up on the highway have sucked the life out of the town centre. Just off the run-down town centre is a small casino which we were told employs quite a few people in Greenville. There also seems to be a wide gap in economic positions in the area. The people who seem to have money live on the outer edge of Greenville near the highway and the seemingly economically depressed live closer to the old town centre. After booking into the motel I dress my feet and we head to the casino for lunch. We then stroll up and down the deserted streets. Nothing to see here except deserted and run down buildings. Except for the churches, of which there are many, they are all neatly attended and looking well kept. Back at the motel I google food places nearby and it seems the only one nearby that is open is Doe’s Place. It looks like a backwater place but has good reviews so we decide to try it. We walk there at sunset through some back streets, feeling somewhat nervous. Then up ahead we see lots of cars and the lights of the restaurant. It looks like a converted house with the entry through the kitchen and there are no windows in the dining area. There is no menu so the waitress gives us a run down on what’s on offer. I order a small sirloin and Glen orders chilli beef. The food is good but the bill is a shock. $45 just for my steak. After paying we make our way through the dimly lit and deathly quiet streets and are glad when we reach our motel again.
Day 12 – will keep this short and sweet. Today we are up bright and early to catch the bus to Vicksburg. While we wait for the bus a man approaches me and tells me he has just got out of jail. He is eyeing off my bag and makes me feel nervous. When we stop at Yazoo City he opens the service station door for me but then proceeds to ask me if I have ever been with a black man. I shake my head at the audacity of his question. We have a changeover at Jackson and find our way to the Mayflower café where a scene in the movie ‘The Help’ was filmed. Unfortunately things go down hill from here. Our connecting bus to Vicksburg is 7.45 hours late and we arrive at our destination after 10pm at night instead of around 2pm. The worst day of our trip so far.
Glen outside the Mayflower café. Can you see me in the window?
Day 13 – this day is far better than yesterday. We have a small sleep in and then hit the streets of Vicksburg. It is far more industrious here than in Greenville. This is due to expanding tourism and entrepreneurial investment in the town. We wander around in the warm weather, taking in all the historical buildings and signs. We have breakfast at Daniel Boone’s café, and lunch at the Mississippi Barbecue Company. Glen was able to catch-up with the owner Dale, whom he met three years ago when Dale was in full swing with the renovations of their beautiful and historical property. We then catch a cab to the bus station where we catch the on-time bus to Natchez. I believe it is on time because it is the Delta bus line, which is a subsidiary of Greyhound and seems to have a better service than the mother company. Once in Natchez we catch a cab to The Pearl accommodation in town. There is a little mix-up with the online booking process but a phone call to the owner quickly sorts this out. We drop our bags off and once again hit the streets checking out the amazingly historical buildings in Natchez. We have an enjoyable evening meal at the Biscuits and Blues café and happily stroll back to our delightful accommodation. A big tick for this day.
Day 14 – waking up in The Pearl is a delight. We enjoy coffee in bed, shower and slowly get ready for the 11am checkout. I call Greyhound again for a resolution to our latest complaint. We get a partial refund for our tickets. I ask the man I am speaking to for the email address for complaints, and tell him that for a developed country, Greyhound’s service is unacceptable. I tell him that we are not the only ones being disadvantaged by their poor service. There seems to be many economically disadvantaged people suffering due to broken down buses and constantly late services. So far out of five bus trips we have experienced two breakdowns as well as two late buses. At 11am we leave our accommodation with our backpacks strapped on and head to the shop centre several blocks away. The sky is looking a little dark. We make our way to the Natchez Coffee Company for brunch. While here the rain starts and we settle inside to wait till it’s time to catch a cab to the bus depot. While here we receive a tornado warning on our phones and the rain and wind batters outside. It is just starting to settle as I sit here typing this. We call a cab and we are on our way to the bus depot and keep our fingers crossed that our buses are on time tonight and blessed be, they mostly are. We arrive in N’Awlins and catch a tram that takes us close to our accommodation. Thank you Glen. You are amazing. Sheryl welcomes us and signs us in. It is 10.30pm but we decide to go out and get something to eat. We then crash for the night back at our accommodation.
Day 15 – Sheryl serves us a yummy breakfast of croissants, sweet pastries, and coffee in the communal dining room of our accommodation. We get to meet a few of the other guests and swap travel stories. Then we hit the streets of N’Awlins. Glen leads the way as he has studied the map of the French Quarter for a long time and is keen to explore it all. I have mixed feelings about the place. I love the history and all the old buildings but I’m put off by the pungent odour of what smells like a combination of beer, grey water and a general dampness. Also I have never been one for big cities so the crowds, noise and pollution are somewhat overwhelming for me also. We find a lovely café for lunch and then head back to the accommodation for an afternoon nap. Then in the evening we go out again. This time heading for Frenchman street. Again we have a delicious and filling dinner while listening to an awesome band named Maid of Terra. We then check out a few more bars and bands. We end up finding a fantastic blues band that are guesting from Chicago with full horn section, great rhythm section, and awesome vocalist. According to Glen, best all round modern blues band he has ever heard live. I am certainly blown away by the horn and saxophone. Amazing! Then once again tiredness gets the better of us and we call it a night.
Street scene in the French Quarter of N’Awlins
Day 16 – again we have breakfast in the dining area of our accommodation and meet Amber and Jennifer from Birmingham, Alabama. They are in N’Awlins celebrating one of their birthday’s and getting tattoos. We swap information about their music and our radio programs. When we leave our accommodation we see a walkathon happening and decide to join the happy crowd as they head into The Treme. A coffee shop then catches our eyes and we take a break in this beautiful leafy and historical area to watch the crowd pass us by. We then wander back through The Treme to the French Quarter. Along the way we encounter two elderly sisters sitting on their front stoop and we stop to chat. They tell us their house has been in their family for three generations. We wander back through the business and tourist area of the French Quarter. I feel assaulted by the myriad of smells and somewhat overwhelmed by all the people and pollution. There are sweet smells from flowers and incense; stale alcohol smells; pungent odours from unwashed people and the grey water systems; and all manner of smells wafting from food joints and other businesses. I am also confronted by the poverty and people asking us for money. It is hard to determine who is legitimate and who is not. In the evening we have a special night at the Bombay Club where Leroy Jones and Co. are performing. We enjoy an amazing meal and I indulge with two brandy cocktails and one famous N’Awlins Sazerac cocktail. Glen gets to meet Leroy and we both get a hug from this beautiful and talented man at the end of the night. Feeling heady and delighted Glen and I stagger back to our accommodation.
Day 17 – this morning we enjoy a quiet breakfast by ourselves in the dining area and then head out to hopefully find an Easter parade. Unfortunately we seemed to have missed them. The streets are eerily quiet. Maybe everyone has stayed up all night, had their parades and then gone to bed. We walk for at least 90 minutes until we reach the famous Vaughns where a lot of live performances have been recorded, including the famous jazz artist Kermit Ruffins. It is an old run down looking shack but according to Glen it still rocks it out with great music. We then wander back through the super colourful and evocative streets, stopping for a great coffee along the way. This place evokes joy, sadness, anger, connection, detachment and deep reflection within me. It is a place of extremes. Extreme colour, aromas, poverty, litter, and contrasts. After resting back at our accommodation we chat to Mary about our departure the next morning and she orders us a taxi. Mary also tells us that if Hugh’s health does not improve they may have to soon sell this bed and breakfast business they have run for twenty five years. How sad for them. We then go out to see the colourful Gay Parade and finish at Buffa’s for dinner. It has been an evocative visit here in N’Awlins. Tomorrow we head to Cleveland for our final week here in the States.
Day 18 – up bright and early to catch our cab to the bus station. Hooray, hooray the bus is actually on time. First stop Mobile. It is a lovely warm, clear day and we have a comfortable bus. It’s a short stop in Mobile where we gobble down some fried breakfast and coffee. As we drive along I reflect upon this strange land and life, with its deep contrasts and colours. Oh the joy. Oh the heartbreak. Oh the breathtaking beauty of it all. Next stop is the beautiful city of Montgomery. We have 2 1/2 hours for a lunch break so we wander into the downtown area. Because this time the bus depot is actually in the centre of the city. We make our way into an alley way between beautifully renovated and repurposed old warehouses and lunch at a bar restaurant named Jalapeños. Our attendant is Jose who seems to be high on – something. He realises he is trying to convert the already converted when he speaks of love and peace between fellow men and women. At least that is our interpretation of what he says. Jose also shares his frustration about Trump and children being ‘locked in cages’ and separated from their parents. We tell him we agree with his sentiment. While we eat he introduces us to Martin Freeman who is a retired professor of something? Encouraged by Jose, Martin shares his thoughts about illegal immigrants being used by wealthy people in power for free labour, under the guise of giving them refuge in their homes. Disturbing and disgusting. After this brief and enlightening interlude we wander down to the river and see a couple of replica paddle steamboats and the remains of a tower up river that was probably used in the Civil War. We then head back to the bus depot. Next stop is Birmingham where we have a short stopover. And then we are on our way to Nashville Tennessee.
Day 19 – in the middle of the night we reach Nashville, have a brief stopover and then board for Louisville Kentucky. The bus is so full that Glen and I don’t get to sit together. I’m disappointed. In Louisville we reshuffle and with a little assertion Glen and I get to sit together again. While in Louisville a man is loudly expressing his frustrations with Greyhound and telling people that if they didn’t speak up they would keep getting treated like second class citizens. I want to tell him that I am on his side and that I have already complained and am intending on sending them an email expressing my disappointment and concerns in regard to their service. However, I don’t take the opportunity as it is fleeting and our next bus is arriving. Then onto Cincinnati Ohio, arriving as the sun is coming up. Another brief stop and next up is Toledo Ohio. We have lunch here, freshen up and then board for the final leg of this journey to Cleveland Ohio. We finally arrive and Glen’s good friend Ken soon arrives to pick us up. Ken drives us around Downtown Cleveland. We stop at a bar for drinks and then onto a restaurant to have dinner. Linda, another long time friend of Glen’s meets us at the restaurant. Plans are made for Saturday night and then we drive to Ken’s place where I get to meet Sue. On the way I see several raccoons. At Ken and Sue’s we chat for a while and then make our way to bed.
Sunrise while travelling through Cincinnati
Day 20 – we have breakfast with Ken and Sue and then they show us around their property. The forest is of course very different here than in Tassie. It feels whispier and somehow more mysterious to me. The trees here are dogwood, oak, maple, buckeye, walnut and ash. Sadly the ash trees are being devastated by the emerald ash borer, a slender green beetle smaller than a penny, that has swept into 22 states across the country. We also see some beaver dams and one wild turkey and all the various varieties of pine trees Ken and Sue have to sell as Christmas trees. They have a beautiful place. Ken loans us his van and we drive to Alliance to meet Glen’s brother Alan and his wife Robby. They are very welcoming. Robby shows us her beautiful house full of heirlooms and childhood memories. We later go out to dinner and meet her son Joe Boy and his family. Back at Alan and Robby’s home we chat until late and then finally make our way to bed.
Covered bridge near Lisbon leading to nowhere
Day 21 – Alan and Robby take us out to Robby’s farm and we meet her son and family again. We see the horses and hear about the history of the property. Then we spend the rest of the day driving around the beautiful country side stopping for lunch at Pinky’s restaurant on the way. It is a bar and restaurant typical of old Ohio with its chequered table cloths and good old country fare. It is raining on and off throughout the day but that doesn’t deter our adventurous spirits. We finish the day with pizza and conversation back at Alan and Robby’s home. It has been a wonderful day.
Scenic Vista Park in West Lisbon, Columbiana County
Day 22 – we spend the morning at Alan and Robby’s, having coffee and crumpets and chatting about family. It has been lovely meeting Glen’s brother and sister-in-law. We then head out into the rain and make our way to North Royalton. We drive past Glen’s old high school as well as the house he grew up in. It is wonderful for me to see these places from Glen’s early life and makes me feel very happy. We then go to meet Glen’s long time friend George and catch up with him in his workshop where he has spent 40 odd years building top fuel motorcycles and other radical designed parts in metal for bikes and cars. George is a humble and unassuming man that I don’t think has been truly recognised for the amazing work he has done in his field of metallurgy. After spending some time with George, we go check out the house in Medina that Glen renovated for his family before they moved to Australia. The current owner Ron is out front and invites us in to see how the house looks now, some 27 years later. It is an amazing experience. We then have dinner in the original town centre of Medina and then drive back to Ken and Sue’s for our last few nights.
The house in North Royalton that Glen grew up in as a child
Day 23 – it is a slow start to the day. We have yummy porridge for breakfast and then later in the morning head out with Ken to his motorbike guys gathering and enjoy some light-hearted conversation. I buy a new pair of boots for a bargain and then Ken drives us around looking at all the old houses and sites of Medina. We have lunch back at Ken and Sue’s and meet Mike and Stacey who come to visit. In the early evening we visit the DaMico clan. We share some stories and laughs and then leave with Ken to go have dinner with his daughter Stacey and Sue at Joe’s fine, family friendly deli and restaurant in Rocky River, Cleveland. I believe Stacey has fond memories of this place and the gigantic deli sandwiches they serve, as well as cakes of all descriptions. Joe’s has expanded dramatically over the years and is full when we arrive tonight, and we have to wait 20 minutes before we are seated. We enjoy the food and company. And there ends another great day.
Day 24 – Ken makes us pancakes for breakfast. So yummy! We all chat for a long while and then have lunch. After lunch Glen and Ken go to a pottery kiln firing at Peninsula. After which they go into the old area of Peninsula and have a couple of beers at the Leaping Lizard tavern. Meanwhile Sue and I go for a walk around Lake Medina and have a wonderful heart to heart conversation. Back at the house we continue the conversation, talking about our family history, past life experiences, and some of our beliefs. At the end of our conversation Sue tells me that I should write a book about what I have told her. And you know what, I think I will.
Lake Medina
Day 25 – our last day in the States. Sue makes us muffins for breakfast. Again, very yummy. We have a quiet morning packing our bags and getting ready for our return trip home and then take one last stroll around Ken and Sue’s property where I find an unusual black rock to take home. Pork chops and coleslaw is the delicious fare prepared by Sue for lunch. We take some photos of our friends and then it’s time for Ken and Sue to drive us to the airport and for us to say our farewells, for now. At the Cleveland airport we have to check ourselves in through their new computerized system. What’s happening to human to human service? At the Houston airport we try to spend some of our US dollars on food and drink before the next flight, however, we are told we can only use a credit card. What??? Then we are on our long flight back to Aussie land. All goes smoothly and I watch about five movies throughout the flight, eat, sleep a little, and jiggle my legs until we finally touch down at Sydney airport. We finally get through the frustrating customs area and take a long transit bus ride to the domestic terminal. There we have a short wait for our flight to Hobart. I am sooo relieved when we touch down on familiar ground. Glen’s son Brandon picks us up from the airport and we have coffee with him before driving my car back home. Jake the dog and Luna the cat seem delighted to see us and we settle back into home with mixed emotions of joy, relief, and a little nostalgia for the past month.
Sunrise out the plane window as we approach Sydney coming home
In the end we traveled through seven states of America: Mississippi, Arkansas, Louisiana, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky and Ohio. And I would love to see more. Being out of my comfort zone and experiencing this different world on the other side of the globe has given me a revitalized appreciation for my life here in Aussie land. The USA was like another universe, yet strangely familiar. There were things that shocked and upset me and things that warmed my heart. The evident over consumption of everything threatened to suck the life out me, as it does to Mother Earth. Inequality and poverty stood out like a bedraggled and screaming child in a fancy restaurant. Yet resilience and warmth shone in most people’s faces and somehow gave me hope for the future. The people were for the most part, warm and generous. They called us Ma’am and Sir and were keen to know our story and to share theirs. In the end, people are people. We all bleed, breathe, and wish to be known and appreciated for what we bring to life. If we could each see the beauty in each other, ourselves and the planet that sustains us, then perhaps we could breathe new life into our souls and experience it all in a new way. A way that in the words of the prophet, Kahlil Gibran, would cause us ‘to return home at eventide with gratitude; and then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in our hearts and a song of praise upon our lips’.
Catzen's Musings on Life 