Nashvillle & Memphis

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I’ve got to say that from the start of my plans to go travelling in the US, Nashville was pretty much my number one place to go – therefore expect about as much objectivity as asking Liam Gallagher ‘which band were better out of Oasis or Blur?’.

So as Beth left off, we dropped the car off at Nashville Airport; the second in what would become a long running trend of going to airports without actually flying anywhere. You could tell straight away that this place had no plans of relinquishing its title as ‘Music City’ any time soon, with the airport littered with music memorabilia and giant model guitars. We got a taxi to our hostel, the aptly named, Music City Hostel. On first impression the place looked a little bit like some kind of collection of hippie shacks, on second impression we established that it definitely was a collection of hippie shacks – but a very loveable one. There was a piano in the “reception” area and guitars hung from the walls (we were even in a room called the guitar room). We dumped our bags and headed out to explore the area around the hostel; our first stop was a guitar store where me and James had a little jam on some guitars and basses. Next we went for some lunch at a the oldest diner in Nashville; all three of us ordered combinations of some Southern thing called meat and two, and were all fairly unsure of what on earth was going to be presented to us. Luckily they were all very nice and the waitress served us with the Southern charm that this area of the country is famous for. We also saw the venue Exit/in, which is pretty famous in the world of music having hosted and broken just about any artist you can think of. We never ended up going as I'd never heard of any of the bands playing over the few days we were there - however, I’ll be gutted if any of them end up being really famous (I’ll be keeping an eye out for Buckethead).

We got back to the hostel and started a game of Dutch twenty one with some guys from the hostel - There was Patrick from New Jersey, Jack from Australia and a guy called Henry from Yeovil! The rest of the evening passed by in traditional Nashville fashion; beer, guitars and a camp fire.......my kind of town.

The next morning we had a session Skyping all of our families as none of us had been in contact for a while then walked into Nashville to see what the town had to offer. After about a half hour walk we arrived on the main strip, littered with music shops and bars, music poured into the street. We went in and picked up a few touristy bits and pieces before heading to one of the bars for some lunch. It was burgers and chips all round, accompanied by a guy playing country music with a comedy twist (' I've got two reasons me and you can't be together, your husband and my wife'.) We headed back to the hostel and hung out with some of the guys back there and prepared to settle in for another Nashville evening. We bought some food, some more beers and returned to the campfire. We met some new people from the hostel, two girls who were travelling down from Quebec as well as an English guy called Ben and an American called Dane. We spent a few hours drinking with some camp fire sing-a-longs, and one of the girls from Quebec even taught me how to play some chords on her Mandolin. At this point James turned in for the night as he said he was pretty knackered. Me, Beth and Ben went to the shop to buy a drink called Four Loco, which was an alcoholic energy drink which was illegal in some states. After a few more drinks we decided to head into town with Ben and the girls from Quebec to a bar called Tootsies. The bar was really cool with a couple of live acts and people dancing on stages. We did a mini bar crawl to a couple of other places along the main road before heading home around 3.

The following day, with the hangovers being surprisingly easy on us, we planned for a fairly chilled out day. We headed into town with Dane from the hostel, and on the way he explained that there was a Bluegrass convention on in town and that it would be really good. It was free to go in during the day so we walked round the various stands with him, picking up all sorts of free goodies including CDs and plectrums. It was a really cool atmosphere in the hotel with people playing banjos, double basses and mandolins on every corner of every floor. After we'd had our fill of music and swag we headed back to the hostel for a low profile last evening at the hostel, chatting to some of the awesome people we'd met before turning in fairly early in preparation for the following day's early start.

This day we had booked a car rental so we could get to Lynchburg, to do the Jack Daniels brewery tour. We were picked up by two nice guys from the rental company and they took us to pick up the car. I was getting used to all this driving by this point, so when they offered me a car upgrade (to a large Chrysler) as they were late picking us up..... I took them up on the offer. After an hour or so we arrived at the brewery and signed up for our free tour. Our tour guide Mark was almost certainly the best tour guide I have ever had. We were told the history of JD, shown the processes, the barrel makers and smelled samples at various stages; by the end of the tour we were all so impressed and hooked by the JD brand we decided to buy a bottle of Gentleman Jack and even got the bottle engraved with our names. After this we headed to the Grand Ole Opry, all not entirely sure what exactly it is, but having been advised by various sources that it was an essential visit, we decided to go. Unfortunately by the time we got there it was closed for the day, so we never got to experience everything the Grand Ole Opry potentially had to offer. After this we headed to our motel for the night, but not without having a night cap of our newly acquired Gentleman Jack.

The next morning I drove back into Nashville centre to return the car and we were kindly dropped off by the rental guys at the Greyhound station, as our plan for the rest of the day was to head to Memphis. By this point we had got numerous buses and I hadn't quite understood why people had made such a big deal about Greyhound or their stations being particularly rough....... well the moment we rolled into Nashville Greyhound terminal it all became clear. There were lots of homeless people outside and various people who looked like they were either drug dealers or on drugs inside. Luckily the terminal appeared to have its own police officers inside, which was just as well as within several minutes of sitting down a particularly sketchy looking guy near us had his flick knife taken off him. Once we got on the bus it was alright, and after four hours we arrived in Memphis. Prior to our visit to Memphis we had been told by a few people that it was a little bit of a dump and potentially a little rough….. our first signs from the bus seemed to confirm these rumours. We left the Greyhound station and headed out for some lunch at Blues City Café for a lunch of tamales, I have no idea what they are to this day, but they were pretty odd tasting. After lunch we headed to find our motel, the AAE which was only a few minute walk from Beale Street. We chilled for the afternoon before heading out for a couple of beers in the evening on Beale Street. Though it may have been exaggerated, we were told that Beale was pretty much the only street which was safe in Memphis, and that it was littered with bars and music; this musical heritage went back a long way, as this was the stomping ground of blues pioneers such as BB King and Howling Wolf. When we arrived on Beale we were not disappointed, the streets were jam packed with people and music flowed freely on to the streets. To get on to the street you had to go through a police blockade and were searched; however, once you were in you were free to drink openly in the street, turning the whole thing in to one big party. We headed to the Rum Boogie Café, and were greeted by the sound of a few acoustic acts, the standards were good but unfortunately the beers were expensive, thus forcing us to move on. Though it is a tacky establishment (and one that would turn Emily Pankhurst in her grave), we all wanted to check out one Hooters while we were in the US. We saw one just off Beale, so headed in. It was a fairly strange atmosphere with a number of old leering men and, even more weirdly, guys on dates with girls. We ordered some beers and wings and chilled there for a while before limited funds returned us to our motel.

The next day we awoke for a day exploring a little more of what Memphis had to offer. As we started our walk into town I realised it was five to eleven. Why is this a relevant time I hear you ask? Well I had read in my Rough Guide that a very bizarre event occurs in Memphis’ prestigious Peabody Hotel every day at 11. We headed in to find the crowds already packed in and the red carpet rolled out. We squashed ourselves in to get a good view of what was about to occur just in time, as over the loudspeaker came a countdown from ten. At one the lift doors opened and a group of ducks emerged, running down the red carpet to the fountain that awaited at the bottom! In my twenty four years of life this will definitely go down as one of the stranger experiences. Following that we headed to some of the interesting shops that Memphis had to offer, some of which doubled up as museums, having not altered their look or products since the 50’s. After a traditional Southern lunch in the form of Gumbo, Jumbolaya and Voodoo Chicken we walked to the Gibson Guitar Factory which stood just off the main strip. We decided to do the tour of the factory which would show us how the guitars were made, however, unfortunately as it was the weekend we only saw the stations and were explained the processes as the workers were not actually there. Despite this it was still very interesting and detailed the painstaking processes dedicated to the making of each Gibson guitar.

One thing which I had been keen to do ever since deciding on Memphis as one of our stops, was to visit the spot where Jeff Buckley died (drowning, after jumping in to the Wolf River for an impromptu swim). James suggested that we should buy some candles, bring my iPod and three way headphones and head down to Wolf River at sunset, and that’s exactly what we did. We found a spot by the river’s edge, lit the candles and settled in for 6 minutes and 53 seconds of what is, in my opinion, the most beautiful song ever recorded. It was perfectly timed with the sunset and was a really rewarding experience. Once the sun fully set we headed back to Beale and headed to a few more bars (it’s pretty much the only thing to do in Memphis at night). We started out at an outdoor bar but due to the lack of music shortly made our way out along the street to watch some blues musicians who were playing in a gazebo. After this we made our way to a roof top bar which had views the whole way along the street, not only this, but it was virtually empty and had two guitarists doing a cover set up there. After a drink up there, some live music and some good banter with the musicians we headed home for the night.

This was our last full day in Memphis so we decided to do the big things that Memphis had to offer; Sun Studios and Graceland. Now for those of you that don’t know Sun Studios, it was a recording studio which reached huge fame in the 50’s breaking artists such as Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Howling Wolf and Elvis. In fact it is home to the famous story that the (at the time) unknown Elvis came in one day to do a recording for his mum’s birthday, and when he was asked by the receptionist who he sounded like, he replied ‘I don’t sound like nobody else’. The walk to Sun Studios was certainly interesting, looking more like the set from the film The Road than of a functioning American town. Despite this, we arrived at Sun Studios in good spirits and signed up for the tour. Lasting roughly an hour it was a really interesting tour with lots of information, anecdotes and memorabilia on show. After the tour we boarded the free shuttle to Graceland, the famous home of the King himself. Now none of me, Beth or James are big Elvis fans, but it is pretty much a rite of passage that if you’re in this area, you must go to Graceland. A shuttle transported us to the front of his estate and we were given headsets which would act as a tour for the duration of our stay in Graceland. We entered his house and saw it preserved as it had been during his life. It had the typical amount of flash and flamboyance that you would expect from a star of his stature with an area dedicated to his classic car collection and his two personal jets. The information was all pretty interesting, and the walk through his trophy rooms blew me away with just how many awards he won and how many records he sold. The tour showed him throughout his various personas and his numerous rises and falls, and ended at the site of his final resting place. Overall it was a worthwhile experience, but one that I certainly wouldn't do more than once. We got that shuttle back to our Hostel and prepared for an early night in preparation for our painfully early start the next morning.

We awoke at five, assured by the front desk that there would be taxis available, but in almost grim predictability, there were none. We wondered around for a while to no avail, hardly surprisingly at 5.30. We finally decided to go into the Hilton as it was the only building showing signs of life at this ungodly hour. Luckily for us there was a taxi driver sitting inside, and like a knight in shining armour, took us to the train station. We boarded the very plush looking (at least in comparison to our usual Greyhounds) train and settled in for the eight hour journey to New Orleans. The journey was not too bad at all; between sleeping, reading, listening to music and admiring the view, the eight hours flew by with relative ease.

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Comments

[Dave]

Great blog
Glad your having a great adventure,hope your money lasts !!,really getting colder here with snow flurries expected anytime,you'll be glad to be in the suuny south.