Can I get a hell-yeah?

HOW-DEE! I'm jus' so proud to be here!

Space travel. The next frontier, huh? Or is world-domination just not enough for this super power? The NASA visitor centre was a huge must on this trip and I had been brimming with excitement ever since seeing its little dot on the Lonely Planet map of Texas so it was with great anticipation that we paid for our tickets to get the experience. The bubble was quickly burst when it became evident that of all the excellent tours we have done in the US, this was the one most filled with propaganda. The 'necessity' of mining the moon and space exploration was drilled hard - this is unsurprising considering the cost of the industry to the American taxpayer, but I'd like to give the American people more credit than believing in the web of spin you must wade through whilst navigating NASA. Granted, the fascinating exhibits of the 'race to the moon', and the technology which enable such feats was totally mind-boggling and, as usual, beautifully presented. But please don't try to justify to us that we NEED to do this. Can't it just be cool for cool's sake? In a nation where the idea of an affordable family car which does 50 mpg is a total revelation, and a lorry looks like something out of the 1920s, I think other steps could be taken to preserve the life to which the West has been accustomed, at far less monetary and (inter)-planetary cost. Although, I can't say I've not found shoe-insoles handy from time-to-time so you gotta give them that.

From outer space to New Orleans. Hang on, did we go anywhere different? New Orelans is a veritable whirlwind of indulgent pleasures, from beignets for breakfast, to scantily clad women beckoning you into nightclubs from around 5pm onwards. Our experience of New Orleans included a lot of walking. You may have noticed from other posts that we are quite experienced walkers, and we enjoy trawling around cities looking for general amenities also. One of the troubles we have frequently encountered on this trip has been a search for food. Yes, you read correctly, in the world's fattest nation, we have not been able to find food. Here, they sell likenesses to food which come in all manner of glittery plastic, cardboard or canned easy-open, resealable containers, but trying to find anything that looks likes it might have been grown is a different story. Similarly, the post office is an enigma. How is it that we can send a batch of postcards from Yosemite National Park, yet finding a USPS office in New Orleans is like searching for good, cheap sushi in London (oh I will miss that about the US)? Of course, this isn't all we got up to in New Orleans. We enjoyed the vibe of the French Quarter at both day- and night-time; we watched a fantastic blues/motown band on Frenchmen St in the Marigny district; wandered around a lifeless shopping mall - the recession has hit hard here; listened to someone 'play' a steamboat's sirens; sipped coffee at a faux-french cafe; made the compulsory excursion to 'International Vintage Guitars' and debated the impact of the economic crisis on the guitar industry; sampled local creole and cajun cuisine.. all in the space of around 48 hours.

And then? We toured the Louisiana swamplands, of course. What else? For two hours we lazed on the green, narrow waterways of the swamplands, listening to a broad Southern drawl explain the history of the local logging industry of the 1920s, and the trials and tribulations of caring for alligators. We met his whole family, right from 'Little Elvis', a 6 month old who we each had a cuddle with, to 'Baby', the 11 foot gentle giant performing leaps out of the water for day-old chicken meat. Yum.

5 hours driving due North took us to Memphis, the home of Elvis and the beginnings of rock and roll. As a rule, the tours we have taken on this trip have been exceptional, and the hour we had around Sun Studios was way up there with our sunshiney day at Alcatraz. We first heard snippets of the biggest records to have left the building, the history of Sam Phillips, Elvis, and the woman workign behind the scenes of it all, Marion Keisker. We saw the original equipment used to record and cut the discs, and then we were taken to the room where the magic happened: the small, white, sun studio. There's the microphone Elvis sang into, the piano Jerry Lee Lewis played on, the million-dollar quartet photo. Phenomenal. Of course, no trip to Memphis could be complete for a guitar-aficionado without touring the Gibson factory, and so we did. Here, they make the semi-solid bodied guitars, which is a real art-craft. The factory floor is small, and employs only around 55 people, but from here they churn out at least 45 guitars per day. The best bit (although Ben will surely disgaree) was hearing what they do with the not-quite so good ones: smash 'em up Fridays, baby!! Man, I'd have loved to be there for that.

This brings us on to Nashville, from where I am writing this post. Nashville has captured us, and it is the longest we have stayed anywhere, jointly with Yosemite. We have read every sign at the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum, had another excellent tour, this time of RCA Studio B, 'the 1000 hit record studio' of Dolly Parton, Elvis, Johnny Cash, and spent an evening being truly entertained by hit country stars we'd never heard of at the Grand Ole Opry. We've seen local bands, bands in tourist-trap bars, the Gruhn shop (some guitars or something), been to a drive-in movie, and, of course, seen where Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey is made. That will knock your socks off - a brief whiff of the vat in which it ferments feels just like a snort of vodka... or so Ben tells me as I wouldn't know..!

Today we drive to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and on to Shenandoah a few day later, where it'll be back to nature until we hit the capital sometime next week. 6 weeks down, 3 more to go - time has flown by for us, but the next 3 weeks stretch out ahead, full of more adventure to come!