Thank god for stuff. We’ve got 3 ipods, 3 digital cameras and a laptop to keep us entertained for an 8 hour drive. And of course we’ve books, and me singing ‘Country Roads’ as we drive through Virginia. Not West Virginia though so I didn’t actually get to see the blue ridged Mountains or the Shenandoh river. We did get mountains though, oh yes we did.
Having selected Laine from the offers of accommodation last night, we had to follow him 30 minutes up a North Carolina mountain (and I mean mountain) in the dead of night. It was such a horror film cliché, I mean when he pulled over (to tell Graham to drop gears) it was a touch-and-go potential axe-murderer scenario. But y’know we got beds, well me and Mark did, Dudley & Graham got an enormous U-shaped wrap around couch. So even if we were on the menu for breakfast, at least we had got a good kip. The guy was cool, has lived there with his wife for nearly a year, moved up from Atlanta, set up a studio in this mountain house. He told us in the snow, they have to park a 20 minutes down the mountain, and hike down before work in the morning. It’s a big commitment living somewhere like that, but you can see the payoff in the photos. They have a beautiful house (and Shadow the cat!) in an amazing location.
I’m only a few days into this trip now, and seeing places like that is so much a part of what I came here for. The lad’s set is 1/48th of the day, so for the rest of the time it’s all about taking mental snapshots and impressions of your surroundings, even if most of it is flying by for hours at 70mph. And great if that’s hairpin bends up a mountain, but cool if it’s the inside of a motel room either. Plus things like service stops fascinate me, I may have just bought the only fresh piece of fruit for 200 miles in any direction there a few minutes ago. Actually, I haven’t eaten it yet, maybe it’s made of wax. That lone apple had probably escaped from a display for synthetic-genetically-modified-rolled-in-peanut-butter-deep-fried-apples selling at the other side of the store probably. So I got that, and some gum, and grabbed a few sachets of mayonnaise for our sandwiches - lovingly put together delicacies of bread & horseradish cheese (courtesy of the rider), which I’ve had 2 meals of already today. Sandwiches in a van – Vanwiches! Anyway, the lady in the shop looked at me like I’d 3 heads – apple, gum and “this is mayo-naaaaise” she drawled. I know says I, I’d like it please. She relented, the condiment-hoarding wagon.
When we were dining (and I use the term loosely) in Waffle House yesterday, Graham asked for a bottle of water before we left. She said they don’t got any bottles, but you can have a fountain cup, and - I swear this is true – “it’s real water, not from the tap - Coke water”, by way of further clarification. Sylda, take a bow on behalf of Coke, the citizens of somewhere in Georgia believes that Coca-Cola make the real water, the stuff from the tap is just that no name shite.
3 comments:
Sigh. It's Sunday. It's pissing rain. We are hungover and in Dublin. Sigh.
sigh more...it's sunday. it's chilly and we're barbequing meatstuffs. woo hoo! and i bought my first 18-pack of Sleeman Cream Ale. the gods smile. i reciprocate.
and now, off to look at pics of the trip.
Are you sure you weren't in the town of Coke, Georgia? I accept no liability.
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