America 2015: Day Thirty-Five (2 September 2015)

She’s got a heart and soul
Bigger than all of Dixie
The way she kisses me
It hits me like smooth Tennessee whiskey
Sweeter than the first taste of honey
Straight out the honeycomb
She’s hotter than the summertime mile
Of a Georgia asphalt road

                                                                                         - Daniel Lee

Wednesday 2 September

We’re in Georgia, and, sadly, apart from a few hours tomorrow out in LA, the trip is basically at an end. It was about a four-hour drive across here, from South Carolina into the Peach State, and our hotel for this last night in America is a stone’s throw from Atlanta’s sprawling airport. It’s also very old-school, with an ancient-looking microwave and bedspreads that may or may not have been around when the Declaration of Independence was signed. It does the trick well enough, and we won’t be here for very many hours, anyway.

Cracker Barrel in East Dublin, Georgia – I love how many European and English names we’ve seen down here; Florence, Paris, London and Rome – came at the perfect time for lunch. It’s one of those places that you see many of dotted along interstates, and it seemed like a joint you wouldn’t stop at to save your life.

Thanks to Will’s tip – it’s one of his favourites – we stopped for the first time in Kentucky on our way down to Nashville, and a few times since. It’s simple food, and the entire place is themed like something out of the fifties or sixties, right down to the décor. The food is simple but it tastes good and is cheap. Today, I ate marinated grilled chicken with corn, carrots, a baked sweet potato and a glass or two of Sprite, and it only cost me $13.

I ended up talking to a guy from down south in Alabama at the check-out, and again outside in the warm Georgian sunshine. Like so many people we’ve met in various places down here, he was a really nice guy, and we spoke a bit about music, the south, similarities between Australians and Americans. He traces his heritage back to England, just like my family does. Really, we could’ve yacked away for hours and hours.

There’s a very outdated stereotype back home about southern people being backwoods and not very polite to outsiders, which, as an Aussie, I am down here. Do not believe it. Not for a second. By and large, they’re the friendliest people I’ve met, and anyone who says otherwise obviously hasn’t been down this way, or just didn’t go about things the right way.

People have been fascinated to chat with us, and, like I’ve mentioned before, everyone we chat to seems to have some sort of Australian story. Yeah, their accents take a bit of getting used to, but I’m pretty sure that they have similar trouble understanding us. Every time I

Off to Los Angeles early in the morning, and. If the weather cooperates, we’ll enjoy a few hours out at Santa Monica before our late evening flight home.

I’ve got one more blog coming tomorrow!