Deep South

A Streetcar named Desire


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.
4:th of July

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.MLK

MLK

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.
Tennessee Stud

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!
Deliverance

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...