New Orleans is best known for three things.

Cemeteries (low rise).

The above-ground vaults for which New Orleans is noted is as much a product of its European and Caribbean pedigree as it is of the topography. Because the city is entirely below sea level, the water tables are high, and frequent flooding, especially prior to the establishment of the protective levee system, made in-ground burials a supposedly dubious proposition. In truth they just couldn’t spare the high ground for dead people so the lower ground became the burial area. The tomb thing is French/ Spanish and very space friendly due to the “oven principle”.

Nicholas Cage will reside here. Eventually.

Low Rise New Orleans.

Garden Precinct (high rise).

The area was originally developed between 1832 and 1900 and is considered one of the best-preserved collections of historic southern mansions in the U.S.. The 19th-century origins of the Garden District illustrate wealthy newcomers building opulent structures based upon the prosperity of New Orleans in that era.

My new friend.

Nicholas Cage’s house before the Internal Revenue Department caught up with him.

Halloween at the Richie Rich House? Check!

Anne Rice’s front gate. So?

Sandra Bullock was out.

I have been singing “The Promised Land” song in my head for a couple of days now. I sing in my head because I’m considerate. I rarely sing out loud, except when hitting my finger with a hammer or while drinking wine in the shower. It occurred to me that all the American songs I was bombarded with in my youth (and that’s some time ago) were gradually gaining some sort of relevance. Framing places to lyrics of songs recorded over decades has been quite a thrill. Really!

As we have a friend who is an Elvis fan, that is to say full-blown ,”nutso”, can’t get enough, type fan we decided that as we had….

“Stopped in Charlotte and bypassed Rock Hill,
And we never was a minute late.
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown,
Rollin’ ‘cross the Georgia state.”

…..that we might as well (god forbid, sorry bible belt) call into Graceland.

We pulled into the parking lot and I had the immediate feeling that Elvis was still with us, the smell of fried chicken and burgers was everywhere like a ghostly fog of Elvis past. Turned out it was just a takeaway franchise at “Elvis Central”.

John Lennon’s famous words “before Elvis there was nothing” may have been true, however John also wrote “I am the Walrus” so lets take John with a grain of salt (or Lysergic acid diethylamide as your taste dictates).

I am unhappy to report that “Elvis has definitely left the building” and at the same time happy to inform you that his legacy lives on providing employment for hundreds of people and joy to the aged. Elvis is bigger than ever. Gift shop, movies, tee shirts, tours, Elvis in every shape and form 2D, 3D and if they can manage it 4D. D stands for dollar by the way. It’s $10 to $15 to park according to vehicle size (the clever people park at the gift shop next door, nice one Jen). It’s $42 to god knows what for the tour (the clever people look over the fence, nice one Les). Photos in front of the photo of the entrance gates to Graceland are extra (photos in front of the real gates are free), the car museum is extra, the plane museum is extra, the Elvis movie experience is extra. In short it’s all extra.

Enough with the Elvis. We still have to find Lonely Street, book in to the “Heartbreak hotel”, which is somewhere near “the ghetto”. Might even have a drink or two to “help me make it through the night”.

Tomorrow……

“Ridin’ cross Mississippi clean

And on that midnight flier out of Birmingham

Smoking into New Orleans”……………

Woo Hoo!

“Memphis Tennessee”

“Girl Happy”

“Return To Sender”

“The End of Lonely Street”

“Big Boss Man”

“Carny Town”

“A House That Has Everything”

Lunch stop. You learn by accident some days.

The Great Smokey Mountains at the southern end of The Appalachian Trail is the most popular National Park in North America and as such is visited by the most people, the peak season is Fall when the trees are in full colour. Seeing as most folk around this parts work for a living the most popular times to visit are holidays and weekends. Over nine million people visit The Great Smokey Mountains each year so we realised that Saturday morning mid Fall might be a bit hectic. What we didn’t realise was that, apparently, most of the nine million annual visitors all turn up on Saturday the twenty-fifth of October each year.

Fortunately our high-priced hotel was serving breakfast for weight watchers, that is to say it was low in calorific value due to its scarcity. So we had a fairly early start and missed some of the automotive Russian roulette that seems to prevail when queues are long and tempers short.

The Smokey Mountains are probably the jewel in the crown of the Appellations and the view from 6643 feet is fully awesome.

What the Cherokee believe:

This mountaintop is a sacred place for the Cherokee. They call it “Kuwahi”, which means mulberry place. They believe the bear meet here and dance together before going to their dens for winter.

They also believe that the lake Attaghi is found near here. Attaghi has special powers. The lake is invisible to hunters. Wounded bear submerge themselves in the lake and come out healed.

We exited the park through Cherokee and the Cherokee Reserve. After reading the significance of the mountains to the “first citizens” we were a little surprised to find it similar to Pigeon Falls. In hind sight we shouldn’t have been.

Track to Chimney Tops

The Last few metres to the top

View from Chimney Tops

The most photographed “American Indian” dancers are at Cherokee.

Driving from Knoxville Tennessee to the Great Smokey Mountains we did not expect to find the biggest Vegas side-show on the planet. Pigeon Forge is Vegas meets Side Show Alley with a bit of god bothering thrown in. It really is the strangest place made even stranger due to its proximity to The Great Smokey Mountains.

After checking in to the overpriced (its peak season don’t you know) hotel we walked around town, or up the strip if you like. I kept catching glimpses of W C Fields. In My Little Chickadee W C Fields play a gambler. Gambler Fields asks a partner, “Have you any of the elusive spondulicks on you?”And proceeds to relieve said partner of his illusive hard-earned dollars.

This is what Pigeon Forge is all about Separating the “jabbernowl” from their “illusive”.

Jabbernowl is another of W C Fields’ descriptives for one who could be regarded as a little soft in the sconce. Do I need to elucidate further?

The Sun Sphere at Knoxville, left over from the 1982 Word Fair.

On the road to Pigeon Forge

The Playhouse of History.

A Titanic Resort

Mt. Rushmore meets King Kong

Golf is the game of choice on the strip.

The Church in the middle of the strip.

Every tee-shirt taste is catered for at Pigeon Forge.

A simple enough message and very handy when checking in.

Chicken with street cred.

The Appalachians are filled with stories, none more convoluted and long-lasting than the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s feud. Suffice to say they didn’t like each other much. The names of the protagonists are enough for most. They include: Squirrel Huntin’ Sam Hatfield, Devil Anse Hatfield,  Asa Harmon Mc Coy, Nancy McCoy Hatfield Phillips and husband “Bad” Frank Phillips.

Squirrel Huntin’ Sam Hatfield. Looks normal enough to me.

Moving right along. Last night I met Walter Brennan’s dad. Who on discovering I was from “Ustralya” barraged me with a sting of questions about Steve Irwin (who apparently was very big in “these here parts”).

Walter’s Dad: Is it true he was a legend in your country too.

Me: Well they named a road after him. But I don’t know if that counts.

Walter’s Dad: They say he used to sleep with a crocodile.

Me: That’s entirely possible. I could check with his wife next time I see her.

Walter’s Dad: All them critters he played with an he ended up dead cause he stood on a dad-blamed stinger-ray.

Me: I don’t think he actually stood on it.

Walter’s Dad: Is it true he was a legend in your country too.

Me: Could be.

Walter’s Dad: I met a fella from Queensland, he says the “Abrignals” got this thing they swing on a sting called a “digera somthin”.

Me: That would probably be a didgeridoo. Its a hollow piece of wood that they blow through to ………

Walter’s Dad: I love that Ustralian accent.

Me: Well your’s is quite special as well, much different to up North.

Walter’s Dad: We call em Yankees down here. Can’t unerstan a lick of what they say. Is it true that Steve Irwin ……………..

And so it went Walter’s dad was a dictionary of fascinating phrases some from Texas such as “gully washer” and “frog strangler” both of which relate to a heavy down pour of rain. Quite different to the Amish, “making down wet”.

Fascinating.

Below a few words from The South as opposed to Texas.

Bob War = Twisted wire interwoven with barbs. As in “stay away from the bob war”.

Retard = Stopped working. As in “I retard at 65”.

Fixin = Getting ready to do something. As in “fixin to leave”.

Fixins = Things required to do something. As in “git me dem fixins”.

Kilt = Not a Scottish item of clothing. As in “I kilt me a barr”.

Pitcher = Either a vessel for water, or a photograph.

Sichy-ayshun = Predicament . As in “How’n duh Sam Hill did you ever gicherself in a sichy-ayshun whirr duh fish er a-bitin’ an’ you ain’t got no pole?”

Yall = Self explanatory really. very popular similar to you-uns.

Tomorrow Harlan County.

Back on the Blue Ridge Pathway through the Appalachian Mountains the colours are so vivid they almost hurt.

Walking through a couple of short trails you can get a sense of what the early settlers had to contend with. This sense is augmented by the several displays and informational centres along the way. You could spend months on this trail and people do just that, walking the entire distance.

We left the trail a little early today with the plan to duck into Tennessee and then pick up the Great Smoky Mountains at the bottom of the Appalachian Mountains tomorrow.

A sign outside gun shop, gave us both cause for curiosity it read ”LOCAL HONEY FOR SALE” Being as how we are now entering the bible belt we decided it must be the bee variety.

Otter Lake Overlook

Otter Lake

The Simple Life. Simple and Hard

Down at The Old Mill

A couple of “good old boys” look after the mill.