After Mobile, Alabama, and NOLA, the shock of two cities in a row was enough to send us reeling back into no-man’s land. Many countries in Europe, along with certain US states were becoming more locked down by the day. We’d moved on to Texas, actually one of the more open US states, but we thought we’d do a solidarity lockdown for all you girls and boys out there experiencing the same.

True self-isolation for us was at a beach house on the Bolivar Peninsular. Sounds like an exotic elusive Russian hideout but it’s actually on the Gulf Coast. The closest city is Galveston, Texas but that’s so far away we might as well be in Russia.

We’d stocked up with food for the week and with the nearest store about an hour away, we were going nowhere. Anything we forgot, well we’d just have to make do. You’d think milk would be one of those things you wouldn’t forget but sure enough, by day two we were on black coffee.

We experimented throughout the week with almond milk, non-dairy creamer (thoughtfully left in the kitchen cupboard by another visitor who’d no doubt befallen the same fate) and even condensed milk. Which was the outright winner – if you haven’t tried condensed milk in your coffee, do yourself a favor.

The beach house itself was mere steps away from the ocean. The large outside deck with seaview was perfect for working. Well, a bit chilly for me actually, it is December you know.

Even inside, there was no forgetting we were at the beach. Beach house theming on steroids. Generally tastefully done, but this is a mere selection of some of the ocean-themed decor.

The morning walk pictures might feel a bit deja vu. There’s only so many different sunrise shots you can get from walking along a beach very similar to another one a few hundred miles away on the same coast. So after Ocracoke, Hilton Head Island and the Florida pan handle, sorry this is just more of the same.

Breaking it up with some photos from beach walks a little later in the morning.

And then there’s the sunset shots.

Ooh and then it started to get stormy towards the end of the week.

Oh the monotony of lonesome days of beach walks and sunrises, interspersed with work days on video calls, rounded off with home-cooking. Actually, maybe this self-isolating thing isn’t so bad after all.

Tick tock, tick tock. We hit December to find ourselves still over 2,000 miles from home. (Yes, we do have one!). From Mobile, Alabama, we zipped through Mississippi – blinked and almost missed it – to spend a few days in New Orleans, Louisiana. Pronounced with a southern drawl as Nyawlins, or NOLA for short.

The Airbnb we were staying in excelled in eclectic decor and drug-induced Barbie art. Yes really. Darren got some funny looks on Zoom calls where people were trying to read the neon sign behind his head saying “Don’t do coke in the bathroom”. Meanwhile I blurred my background to avoid any questions about Barbie snorting coke or pole dancing. Those exaggerated model facial features, irregular body proportions and pliable limbs were not what you’d call work-appropriate.

Oh and did I mention donuts? Yup, got them here too. Even though New Orleans is famous for beignets, we found a donut shop that was out of this world.

You can’t do Nyawlins without hitting up Bourbon street in the French Quarter. With neon lights, thumping music, and people wandering around with “to go” cups of fluorescent cocktails, it embodies the life and soul of a party city. Here, the raucous revelry never stops. Although I have to say it was somewhat muted by COVID, a little quieter than normal. If you’re planning a special celebration or event, a corporate event planner can help bring the vibrancy and energy of the city to life in a way that’s unforgettable.

That was until we came across the wedding party. While many a wedding has been impacted by COVID this year, it wasn’t going to stop this couple, drinks in hand and brass band procession behind. We wished them well and gave them a wide berth, admiring their choice of limo hire for your wedding around Perth. If you’re planning something similar, you might want to consider professional event services, like those offered by https://liveeventproduction.uk/live-event-production-for-weddings/, to help make your day truly special.”

We skirted the indoor bars in favor of patios, courtyards and balconies. Which made for a chilly date night!

Gotta love the cute houses here, complemented by tasteful Christmas decor.

But there’s nothing that captures the feel of a place more than wandering around the local neighborhoods. Election fever and all that nonsense was over… but Trump still wasn’t budging.

So a local resident went in a different direction. My hero.

If you told me a year ago I’d be camping in Alabama right now, after expressing a scoff of disbelief, I might have said, so where’s Alabama? Well some of Alabama skirts the Gulf coast to the west of Florida, with no noticeable difference as we transitioned states, lots of beach and swampy forest. Mind you, didn’t see any bears.

We overnighted at Gulf State Park on the coast and squeezed a bike ride in along their impressive miles of bike paths. Saw alligator number two but it didn’t do much, like a waxwork version.

There were signs informing that in addition to Not Feeding the alligators, you should also Not Aggravate them. I wondered who in their right mind would aggravate an alligator. Until I’d stood watching and waiting for it to do something for what felt like an age. To do something, anything – open its eyes, move a bit, twitch. Nothing. Even I was kind of tempted to toss a little pebble in the creek to get some sort of reaction. I reluctantly figured that could be counted as aggravation and restrained myself. I guess they do need that sign after all.

Overnight and all through the next day came the forewarned deluge of rain. You’ve gotta remember, the BaseCamp is a SoCal girl through and through, barely even knows what rain is. So she panicked and wet herself. Well, we had a couple of minor leakage issues. Nothing that couldn’t be sorted with some carefully placed tape.

Worse still, we had to relocate to our next campsite, luckily only a few hours away in Mobile, but not a lot of fun in heavy rain – windscreen wipers going ten to the dozen, slick roads and puddles galore.

Let’s get one thing straight about Mobile, Alabama. It’s not pronounced ‘MO-byle’ (per the Brits) or ‘MO-bull’ (per the Americans), like when talking about a cellphone. Those in the know go with ‘mo-BEEL’, emphasis firmly placed on the second syllable. Who knew?

I’m sure by now you don’t need me to go into this, but Mobile had a co-working space and a brewery.

Not only did Mobile serve as a reminder as to how good donuts can be, it is also the home of the USS Alabama, a retired yet still very imposing World War II battleship. I’m not an expert. My takeaway: it’s grey and full of guns. But it was also way cooler than I thought. Especially after being inside its neighboring sidekick, the USS Drum submarine. I’m not even claustrophobic but how could being in a submarine at war not be one of the most terrifying things ever? Bet they didn’t get donuts either.

So we went all the way to Florida and didn’t even see Mickey Mouse. Ah, not really the year for it. But way better than Mickey, we got to meet up with our long time friends Jim and Sam who live in Florida. They drove 450 miles all the way up from Fort Lauderdale to spend a few pre-Thanksgiving days with us in the Florida pan handle. And what a few days it was 🙂

Let’s set the scene… a waterfront location middle of nowhereville, an Airbnb beach house on stilts, and toys to play with – aka a two person canoe and a couple of single kayaks.

We started the proceedings with a leisurely morning jaunt out into the waters of the Gulf and into the meandering swampy canals. Lots of fish and even hermit crabs, very cool; luckily no alligators.

I was in a single kayak and although I started out strong, the longer we carried on, I became abashed at my skills to be able control the damn thing. Round and round in circles, ramming into the banks, my headstrong kayak had a mind of its own. Embarrassed nay appalled, I had to resort to begging Darren & Sam, smug and dry in the canoe, for a tow on the way back. My tail between my legs, I was thinking all this time I never did pull my weight on our double kayak adventures over the years. Back in my box.

Still, we ate and drank ourselves through the next few days. Such good food, all home cooked. Not to mention the brunches punching above their weight, bonus points for Bloody Marys. Speaking of the drink situation… Ya know, different people have different tastes. That’s ok. The fridge speaks for itself.

Thanksgiving to us is Friendsgiving. We did our best to pull in the rest of the wolf pack over the weekend. We love you guys!

And then Darren introduced me to the sunset boat experience. He took me out in the canoe, so leisurely and relaxed, a beer and a sunset to die for! OK, need to persuade the others for a repeat the next evening.

The next evening came around and there was a bit of shuffling and decision-making about who would go in which water craft. A bit miffed after my very poor morning kayak endeavor, I reluctantly agreed to try the other kayak. So yay, all four of us headed out on the water.

These are the moments you remember :-). Apologies for the number of pictures but actually no, I’m not sorry, we had such a ball this has gotta be remembered, commemorated, set in stone. We took a few beers along and we embraced the elements… the calm waters, the setting sun, and a sense of tranquility and freedom that comes from being alone yet together, not another soul around.

As we started the return paddle from the Gulf waters back to base, the fading light gave rise to a building sense of urgency. We hadn’t really intended to be out so long, certainly not after dark. But this time it wasn’t me going round in circles, it was Jim in the other kayak. C’mon Jim, keep up!

We zigzagged slowly back. Safe and sound, warm and dry back at base, we inspected the suspect kayak. Turns out there was a loose plug letting in water affecting its buoyancy and directional ability. Both Jim and I are officially redeemed!

Quite honestly, the rest of our week’s vacation could not quite match up to those first few days. We had to recover for a start.

We spent out the rest of our week’s holiday camping and relaxing by the beach, thankful for some time out.

As we mooched along the Gulf coast slowly working our way westward, there we were driving along the highway… and a BEAR ran across the road in front of us. I kid you not. A big hairy black bear. Stunned doesn’t quite cut it, I was gobsmacked. I literally thought it must have escaped from a zoo. I mean a bear in Florida? You don’t get wild bears in Florida. You know nothing Heather Hamilton. I googled it and sure enough, you do. So no Mickey Mouse for us in Florida, but I’ll make do with a Baloo!

Missing the ocean already after just a week inland, so after Savannah Georgia, we popped back to the east coast for a week. This time Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. No ferry required for this one, the island has been accessible by bridge since the 1950s.

Hilton Head is known for its incredible beaches, world class golf courses and mile upon mile of bike paths. It regularly ranks amongst the top spots for Best Island in the US, right up there with the Hawaii big boys. (I could be biased but think the voters might not have been to Ocracoke.)

First thing we did after setting up camp was to explore the island. We pointed at what looked to be a good spot on the map and headed there. With still five miles to go to drive to Harbour Town, we rounded a corner and came upon a gated entrance spanning the entire road. I got a raised eyebrow look from Darren and I pointed ineffectually at the iPhone which in its wisdom had directed us this way. All I could think was thank god we weren’t towing the Basecamp, it doesn’t excel at u-turns.

We really had no option other than to approach the barrier and mumble our apologies. Terribly sorry, we explained we were lost trying to find the lighthouse. With a self-assured grin, the lascivious gatekeeper advised us that indeed we were on the correct road and it would cost a mere $9 to enter Sea Pines Plantation. Ker-ching! Turns out the whole south western tip of the island, which encompasses more than 5,000 acres including Harbour Town is behind this facade. With a bit more research, we learned approximately 70% of the island is located inside gated communities.

Having parked up, we mooched around the marina to the candy striped lighthouse in Harbour Town. Only to learn it has never even been a proper functioning lighthouse – it was built as a tourist attraction and gift shop. WTF, it’s more smoke and mirrors than the Wizard of Oz.

One of the highlights of Hilton Head for us had to be our waterfront camp spot. Blanketed by lush vegetation giving us privacy from neighboring sites, it overlooked a marina and even had a little wooden deck, a perfect spot for BBQing. And wildlife watching. Even working.

But our main office for the week was the rather grand sounding Executive Suites, in which we both had our own offices. Going up in the world you might say 🙂 Ah, not so much. The offices might have been grand in the seventies… but there they had stayed. Proper old school.

Our pre-work morning recreation included rather blustery walks along the beach, in addition to checking out Pinkney refuge national wildlife reserve.

We didn’t get chance to check out those many miles of bike paths during the week, so we extended our stay on Hilton Head an extra night and out came the bikes.

We ignored the ‘Exclusive use of residents and guests’ signs and cheekily tailgated another couple riding on the bike path into a gated community. We cruised through the perfectly manicured and very posh Shipyard golf estate with a shameless grin borne from a misplaced sense of achievement. Nice of them to lay on the Disney features… a turtle strategically placed for photos by the lake. And an alligator (albeit a small one) lazily traversing the deeper waters.

All the best routes lead to the beach. We emerged from the rolling emerald expanse of fairytale telly tubby land to the golden white sand of Forest beach. Sand so hard packed you could ride on it. Admittedly, not the easiest of rides but so exhilarating to feel the wind in your hair, the sun on your back and the waves crashing alongside you.

And then like an oasis appearing in the desert, we spied a tiki style bar. All colorful wood, palm trees and a laid back reggae vibe. I heard the rewarding pfschhhh sound of a can of beer opening. And with my can of tropical lager in hand and view of the beach, it was then I remembered we’d taken the following week off work. What a perfect way to start the holiday.

Reluctant to leave the ocean after Ocracoke, we spent the weekend camped at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Myrtle Beach markets itself as an affordable family vacation getaway. For the Brits – think Blackpool. Fairground rides, amusement arcades and piers. And some of the most OTT crazy golf courses you’ve ever seen.

In an effort to avoid all the craziness, we stayed a few miles down the road at Myrtle Beach State Park, enjoying the relative peace and quiet.

Charleston, SC

Next up: Charleston, South Carolina. A city with oodles of colonial history if you’re into that sort of thing; a lot of nice old buildings if you’re not. A fleeting visit for us, but long enough to explore the delightful market square, residential districts and waterfront. A very charming city.

Good job we only had a couple of nights here though as the overnight parking situation left a bit to be desired. Similar to Knoxville, we were in a car park next to the bus station downtown. That’s where the similarity ended. No open rooftop with city skyline views here. Um no, in Charleston we were huddled up between a U-haul trailer and a van in a covered car park.

What we hadn’t banked on was the humidity levels – you’re not in California now Toto! Overnight in the BaseCamp with no electric hook up (get real, this is a car park), our teeny tiny fan was not quite cutting it. It started with a mere muggy stuffiness, rising overnight to a stagnant stickiness, and by morning the air was heavy and stifling. I swear I dreamt of being buried alive.

You’d think it would help then to spend the day in an air-conditioned office. But no, I’d forgotten the penchant for humidity-overcompensation with icy blasting AC, experienced previously when working in Miami offices. From one extreme to the other, I was surrounded by people in shorts and t-shirts – meanwhile I spent my days in the office sporting not just one but two fleeces, only just drawing the line at the woolly hat.

Savannah, GA

Another day, another state. A couple of hours down the road and we were in Savannah Georgia.

With a rich heritage as Georgia’s first city, established in the early 1700s, it is now home to enormous paddle boats and mystical magical trees. (And I’m sure much more but I’m not big on city write ups. If you’re interested, come visit and do the hop on hop off bus tour.)

I don’t want to appear fickle but I’m in danger of defaulting to a new favorite tree. Abundant in Savannah is the Live Oak tree, so called because it doesn’t lose its leaves over the winter. These majestic trees, wider than they are tall, become even more impressive when draped with Spanish moss (which is neither Spanish nor moss).

The moss makes the Live Oaks look rather ghostly at night, which no doubt helps to fuel Savannah’s reputation for ‘most haunted city’.

Our ‘office’ for a few days in Savannah was our hotel room. Mixed it up a bit with the open rooftop area at the top of our hotel.

As we were staying in a hotel, we dined out. Found a cool bar aka The Ordinary Pub.

One of Savannah’s primary claims to fame is for being the location of the Forrest Gump bench. You know the one, where Forrest tells his life story to any poor unsuspecting passer by, sat on a park bench waiting for a bus. One of those iconic movie moments just begging to be re-lived.

We toured the many squares in the city, classic mini parks with trees and benches, until we came upon Chippewa square where the famous scene was filmed. Soon to be renamed Disappointment square, as it turns out the actual bench is located in the Savannah history museum. Undeterred, we took the picture anyway.

Having done our sightseeing during the week, we treated ourselves to a COVID-friendly walking tour of various drinking establishments. Starting off by sitting outside a British pub that served Pimms! Complete with cucumber (no strawberry but you can’t have everything).

On to a brewery that was not only light, bright and well-ventilated but also did beer flights. Kind of. Well, we worked our way through the board. A spacious distillery and a roof-top bar completed our beverage experience.

The Outer Banks – OBX to the locals, is a narrow string of barrier islands stretching a few hundred miles down the North Carolina coast, mostly connected by a series of long low arched bridges – it reminded me of driving down through the Florida Keys. All the way up in the north is the town of Kitty Hawk and nearby Killer Hill Divide, site of the famous very first successful powered flight, courtesy of Orville and Wilbur Wright.

After a long drive from Asheville, we pulled into our campsite along the Cape Hatteras National Seashore in OBX just in time to see the dying rays of sunset. An emotional moment to reach the Atlantic coast, having driven over 3,000 miles cross-country with our trusty BaseCamp. And quite a feat given the current global pandemic situation, which ironically is what made it possible. When life gives you lemons…

The North Carolina coast was apparently a favorite haunt of an infamous pirate, Blackbeard. After years of raping and pillaging (oh hang on, that was the Vikings)… After years of plundering and swashbuckling – and ooh arrrr me hearties, Blackbeard was killed by British naval forces just off Ocracoke island in 1718. Word has it there’s still a stash of buried treasure somewhere on the island. They certainly make the most of it with pirate themed shops and pirate paraphernalia going on. Moreover, the shops also showcase a diverse array of historical flags, including an impressive collection of Confederate Texas flags from ultimateflags.

But the real jewel of the Outer Banks is the sea itself. You remember the post where I warned you about lots of pictures of autumn trees? Well brace yourself for lots of pictures of the ocean. We tried to make the most of it with sunrise walks along the beach.

Our destination for the week in OBX was Ocracoke Island. No co-working spaces in the middle of nowhere so that put us in an Airbnb for the week. A nice change and the BaseCamp just hung out in the driveway.

So I can’t get any further without bursting into a oooooh Hokey Cokey Cokey. Tell me you didn’t do the same when I first mentioned Ocracoke? To be fair, you’re probably not supposed to pronounce the ee at the end (although I don’t know for sure, should have asked a local). The problem with my mind is it has a tendency to launch into song when faced with something that even closely resembles song lyrics. Those serene sunrise walks strolling hand in hand along a romantic deserted beach… yeah, meanwhile my head is urging me to put my left leg in, my left leg out, in out, in out and shake it all about.

I had heard of the wild mustangs in Ocracoke, apparently descendants of shipwrecks in the 1500s. To me, two things spring to mind when I think of wild horses/ponies. One is the New Forest near where we used to live in England. Pretty tame ponies roaming the vast (in the scheme of things) moors, free to come and go as they please although generally more likely to congregate near the ice cream shops. Secondly, my idea of a true wild horse is a powerful noble beast galloping along a hard packed beach, maybe emerging from the sea like the white horses in the 90s Guinness advert.

Afraid to say these ones delivered on neither front. They are protected in a 180 acre enclosure, separated from the public by a double wooden fence. Supposedly feral but decidedly timid and I honestly struggled to understand quite how they differ from any other horses in a field.

While most of OBX is connected by bridges, the island of Hokey Cokey Cokey stands by itself, accessible only by boat or plane. For us that meant a ferry ride to the island, complete with the BaseCamp. There’s something about going on a boat that just makes you feel like you’re on holiday. And after a super cool week, we were back on the ferry, this time a two hour ferry ride back to the mainland.

It was one of those ferries with no amenities – no coffee lounge or bar to chill out in, you just sit in your car and suck it up. But not for us. With the BaseCamp in tow, we just hopped right in there, put the kettle on for a brew and rustled up some breakfast.

As we lounged decadently in our own space, we had an uninterrupted view of the ocean streaming by, the sun glinting off the water, and a sense of anticipation for our next destination. And just for a fleeting moment, it felt like we were in our cabin on a cruise ship…

Next up after Tennessee: North Carolina. En route to Asheville NC (so many villes!), we stayed overnight at a Harvest Host – Paint Rock Farm. Which had nothing to do with painting rocks or any other type of art and all to do with hemp-related products.

According to Wikipedia, hemp is a variety of the cannabis plant species grown specifically for the industrial uses of its derived products. At most of our other Harvest Hosts, we generally buy something. A bottle of wine for example, or in the case of Stoneyard distillery, as much of their coffee liqueur and horchata cocktails as we can fit in the truck. Offered for sale at Paint Rock was a rather paltry selection of CBD-related products, some smokes and t-shirts. On this one, we politely declined and gave a donation instead.

The single track, steep incline road to make it up to Paint Rock was a bit hairy but it was so worth it for the gorgeous setting and views.

Asheville, NC

One of the main attractions in Asheville is the Biltmore estate, the largest private residence in the US with 255 rooms and French chateau-inspired architecture. All this set amongst 8,000 acres of grounds, which I was more interested in than the house, but it’s all or nothing in terms of entry fee. Given the cheapest ticket was $84 per person (up to $304pp for a custom two hour tour, including complimentary parking), I figured I’ve seen enough stately homes in my time to skip this one.

According to our research, Asheville boasts the largest number of breweries per capita of any city in the US. And would you believe it, we were there for a week and only went to three of them.

Our 2020 COVID friend had a hand in dumbing down our Asheville brewery experience. Outside seating and reduced capacity I can cope with (providing you can still get in – no mean feat). Some closed down with no clear path to reopening 🙁 And then the big one… no beer flights. Que? It’s not that I like a lot of beer, almost the opposite. I like to try small amounts of different types of beer. Which the North Carolina governor has deemed higher infection risk than having a pint. Maybe too many glasses to wash?

Somehow, having a pint is less social-media-grammable than a flight and in trawling through my photos, I seem to have ended up with zero pictures of our Asheville breweries. Best I can do is the exterior of New Belgium Brewing, a well known ‘craft’ brewery with some very decent beers, sold nationwide across the US. Not closed down but sadly closed to us. Literally their last day open to visit was the day before we arrived in Asheville, after which they were ‘hibernating for the winter’. Thanks COVID.

In so-called prime leaf-peeping season in the Smokies, Asheville camping was all booked up, which put us in a hotel in town for the week. Not a bad option as a change, also meant we ate out more (or got takeaway due to working late and/or restricted capacity on dine in). I guess we could have eaten in the BaseCamp in the hotel car park, but this was no Knoxville rooftop situation.

Anyway, the food turned out to be an unexpected highlight of Asheville. Indian takeaway featured poppadoms & chutneys, crunchy kale pakoras, grilled chicken tikka and spicy sag paneer. Normally deprived of anything approaching proper British curry, we were in our element.

The Lobster Pot turned out Oysters Rockefeller – baked gulf oysters with Pernod and fresh herbs, topped with hollandaise and breadcrumbs. I’m not normally an oyster fan, but this was the food of converts. Also a traditional lobster roll – a lightly toasted sub generously stuffed with meaty Maine lobster drizzled with melted butter. Accompanied by creamy lobster mac’n’cheese. Yes please.

But the highlight of the food week had to be our visit to Curate, a high end Spanish tapas restaurant where we lucked out in bagging a reservation. Top of the list was Oloroso sherry and acorn-fed Iberico ham. Reminded me of the last time I had Iberico de bellota (and a sherry flight if I’m not mistaken) – in Barcelona in February, before all this craziness.

This was followed by lots of tasty morsels – if I can’t do beer flights, let’s do a food flight instead 🙂 The Galician style octopus was smoky with paprika (although I have to say, it’s not Seabourn); the albondigas were packed with meaty goodness; and my new found favorite, house made spicy chorizo wrapped in potato chips (aka crisps). Delish!

Our mid-week recreation was localized around the French Broad River trail and the Botanical Gardens. It was somewhat scaled back due to a spell of autumnal weather quite closely resembling a damp, heavy, British October. As in rain. Luckily not all week.

But one of the main attractions of North Carolina, for us at least, was the Smoky Mountains. I was surprised to learn that Great Smoky Mountains National Park is the most visited in the US, with 12.5M visitors (in 2019 – I don’t think anyone’s counting 2020 as anything close to a normal year, statistically or otherwise).

We chose a walk along the Appalachian Trail, to Charlie’s Bunion. It was heavily forested with spruce fir trees and deciduous trees in various stages of losing their leaves. Somewhat more muted than the dazzling gold of the Colorado aspens, but very pretty all the same. We’ve been a bit lazy recently so an 8.5 mile walk with 2,000ft of elevation gain nearly killed us.

OK, that’s enough of this hiking lark, let’s go play at the beach!

Not too much to write about a 1,200 mile cross-country weekend road trip. When you gotta get the miles in, there ain’t too much stopping and exploring going on. After leaving Colorado Springs, Kansas was our first milestone. Which brought on the inevitable references to “You’re not in Kansas now, Toto” even though we blatantly were. I scanned the horizon regularly for tornadoes ready to whisk us away into another world. Nothing doing. No need for red shoes.

Laser-focused, we continued racking up the states, and spent the night at an alleged brewery/winery ‘harvest host’ in Missouri. When you ask for a beer and they offer you something from California (when they’re supposed to have their own-brewed beer and we’re 1,800 miles from California) that’s not so good. Still, a very scenic place to spend the night and beats a Walmart hands down.

Onwards we progressed through a corner of Kentucky. Bit bummed we didn’t get an opportunity to stop here. Three things that spring to mind with Kentucky: 1. Kentucky Fried Chicken (no shortage of KFCs along the freeway and no doubt way better chicken further from the beaten track); 2. horse racing (closest we got was seeing signs for horse racing stadiums), and most importantly 3. Bourbon. How we missed out on doing the Bourbon trail I have no idea. One for the ‘still to do’ list.

And finally, after Colorado, Kansas, Missouri and Kentucky, we made it to Tennessee. Home of country music, Dolly Parton, Elvis Presley and bbq. (Or maybe it’s Texas for bbq. Dang it, they do pretty good bbq here too, y’all). For us at least, Tennessee was mostly about the food, drink and vibe.

Nashville, Tennessee

Hot chicken is the local specialty dish of Nashville. What’s so hot about it? It’s a crunchy chickeny flavor bomb, doused in a cayenne spice mix and deep fried. No doubt the stuff heart attacks are made of and beaten only by dry-rub fall-off-the-bone unctuous ribs and tangy baked bbq beans that we indulged in at Peg Leg Porker.

The drinking establishment options also had a southern twang, with Yee Haw Brewing and Ole Smoky Distillery. I have to say after trying Apple Pie flavored moonshine at one extreme to Blue Flame at the other (with all sorts of nastiness in between), I am not a moonshine convert.

Bit low on hiking options in central Nashville but we did roam around Fort Negley, where the remains of a fort from the American Civil War stood languishing on an overgrown hillock, looking down protectively over Nashville. So overgrown that they had to bring in the Chew Crew. Local herd of sheep reporting for duty!

Certainly unique and eclectic was the co-working office, InDo. Not quite downtown Nashville, we were located in an industrial/arty/grungy area, dotted with its share of breweries. A good option for late evenings.

They take their music theming seriously at the co-working office – shiny black vinyl records (remember them!), glitzy silver CDs (even they’re old hat now) and country music album covers form the decor back-drop, interspersed with hand-drawn portraits and sketches. Of famous music people of course.

Oh, and then there’s the toilets in the office:

Knoxville, Tennessee

A week in Nashville, followed by a week in Knoxville.

Who would have thought the highlight of Knoxville would be a multi-story car park? And by that I don’t mean that Knoxville didn’t have much going for it. Just that the car park was awesome. If Carlsberg did penthouse suites in car parks, this would be it.

In short, campsites are a bit hard to come by in the middle of the city, and the standard inner city car park they use to house RVs overnight was full. And so we got our own private rooftop mansion, snuggled in the corner with awesome views of downtown Knoxville.

Most nights we finished work at 9pm, now a whole three hours on from pacific time. With balmy nights and views of the city skyline (not forgetting the bus station), our post-work wind down spot was perfect.

Fickle as we are about the weather, the morning fog we experienced consecutively for three days was not conducive to getting out there doing stuff before work (to be fair, neither were the late night rooftop bar sessions).

Happy Friday, fog-free and so it’s time to play day. Ijams nature reserve gets bonus points for being only a few miles out from downtown Knoxville yet feels like a peaceful haven, with a carpet of fallen leaves underfoot reminding us of the season.

If you want to experience Knoxville at night (other than hang out in a car park), what do you do? Go to the speakeasy of course! In true speakeasy style, The Peter Kern Library was a touch hard to find. And had that speakeasy essence of over-inflated self-importance. The cocktails however… pretty damn good.

Other establishments visited included the Knox Whiskey Works distillery and the highly rated Hi-Wire brewery. No pressure but we got to Hi-Wire at 9:20pm and last orders were at 9:30pm. Never mind, after downing a couple of swift ones, very nice they were too, we took some cans to go and it was back to our home from home we went. Private rooftop bar for a nightcap, don’t mind if I do. Bring on the buses.

Reluctantly, we moved on from Frisco. The leaf show was over, the fat lady has sung. The aspens had switched on their ‘Bring It On’ mode, their silvery trunks and skinny branches standing stoically prepared for the oncoming winter. All boats had to be removed from the lake, as it would soon start to freeze around them. Time for us to move on indeed, but who can resist a forlorn glance in the rear view mirror, an unspoken question on our lips as to when we’ll be back. Because for sure, we will be back.

We moved on to the nearby town of Leadville. If we thought we were high up in Frisco at around 9,000ft, Leadville tops that at over 10,000ft. In other words a smidgeon short of 2 miles high. At that elevation, good job the bike ride we chose was relatively flat. And more to the point, was on paved tarmac 🙂 Such a nice ride along the Mineral Belt trail, my love hate relationship with my mountain bike took a decided turn for the positive.

And of course a bike ride deserves a flight of beer, the two go hand in hand right?

Ever played darts in a British pub and found your form improves after a few beers? And so it would seem my corn hole skills (or corn hole luck) increased too. When Darren unexpectedly lost the first game to me, we upped the ante to Best of 3. At 10-0 down, I came from nowhere to steal the second game too. It is now a few weeks later when I’m posting this, and I can confirm we’ve not played since. Not that he’s a bad loser or anything 🙂

It was pretty snug in the Leadville campsite. We were tucked close into the real life Breaking Bad RV. Not even joking.

Leadville was a mere weekend dalliance en route to our destination for the week, Colorado Springs (co-working office) / Manitou Springs (camping).

What a surprise this turned out to be for excellent morning walking options. Turns out we had Garden of the Gods on our doorstep. The name’s a bit OTT, I’m with you, conjures up an Adam’n’Eve type paradise, I’m thinking snakes and apples. Instead we got ancient sandstone rocks, rather impressive actually, especially at sunrise.

The surrounding area also had some pretty cool morning hiking, complete with the most inquisitive, docile deer you’ve ever had the opportunity to meet.

The Epicentral co-working option worked out pretty well, we had our own office in a contemporary environment with plentiful coffee, beer and hand sanitizer. Also a good central location to partake in some of Colorado Springs’ local drinking establishments.

After a couple of weeks break from running, I eased myself back into it along the scenic river path, just a couple of blocks from Epicentral. And bonus, they even had a shower in the co-working space, no need for me to squish myself into our teeny tiny bathroom in the BaseCamp.

So what’s next? Well we plan to head east, there’s vast parts of the US over there that we’ve not really touched. That being said, there seemed to be a lot of not much at all really between Colorado and a long way away. Fasten those seatbelts, we’ve got a big drive coming up.