Atlanta, Georgia is the home of Coca-Cola - a typically American, consumer-driven way to summarise a place, - but in this case, it's self-evident. We chose Atlanta because of its location as a useful stop-over, rather than out of any particular desire to go there; the skies were grey with the promise of rain, and other than being the home of Coca-Cola and some interesting museums, I hadn't heard that there was much to see. There is only one hostel in Atlanta (Atlanta Hostel), and it certainly takes advantage of its monopoly status, charging high rates for measly 'breakfast' and rentable linens. Perhaps my strangest encounter with an American happened here, when a man apparently working at the hostel asked me if I was Jamaican, then told me that I looked like Tia/Tamera from SisterSister and
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