We awoke in Hell (aka, the Ramada Inn of Macon, GA)
My breakfast at the Ramada Inn consisted of:
One peach flavored yogurt.
Anna: Don’t do it, Meg!
Meg: But we’re in Georgia! I HAVE TO!
One stale biscuit.
Anna: How’s your biscuit?
Meg: Meh…
One banana
One coffee
Then we were on the road! We stopped into a little diner for
a break and Anna bought the freshest most delicious brownie on the planet
earth.
It was freshly baked and gave off the aroma of rich cocoa and southern heart. We would never find such a delicacy
again.
As we drove up the mountains, our ears started popping. The
view was staggeringly beautiful and for the first time in my life I understood
the phrase “purple mountain majesty.” The skies were cloudless and the trees
glistened like emeralds. I felt ten years younger going up that mountain.
We paused again to buy some strawberries from a local farmer
and we ate them along the way. The drive was only four and a half hours, which
to us, on this day, on these mountains, was anything but a chore. Before we knew
it, we were in the magical town of Asheville.
Here is a picture of Anna riding bear back to help express how magical this town really is.
We were starving, so we stopped into the first lunch place
we saw, a cute pizzeria with a trippy theme.
Anna ordered magic mushroom soup
and I had the magical mystery pizza. Just before our food came, a man
approached us.
“Do you believe in magic?” he asked.
My first thought: This is a crazy person.
“I’ll show you some tricks, if you like.”
Oh no, it’s worse. He’s a scam artist or a pickpocket.
But then I noticed he was wearing a name tag and there was a
poster behind him that said there was a magic festival the following weekend.
“Are you with the festival?” I asked.
“Yes I am!” he said. So we let him stay, and with a close
eye on my wallet throughout the little show, I tried to enjoy his tricks. I’m
sorry, but I just instinctively don’t trust people anymore. He effortlessly
bent a fork, signed it and let Anna keep it as a souvenir. Oh, Magic Wayne, we will never forget you.
I fell in love with just about every store we visited, Royal
Peasantry in particular. Every piece of clothing was a work of pure artistry.
While
browsing their wares, we met a beautiful woman who was strangely familiar.
Anna: Have we met before?
Lady: (smiles) Think about it.
Anna: Are you from Naples?
Lady: No, but I have a friend in Naples… but that’s probably
not where you know me from. I did a reality TV show.
Anna: You were on America’s Next Top Model!
Lady: Yep.
Meg: >:O EXCUSE ME. MAY I PLEASE TRY THIS ON?
Okay. It didn’t end like that, but I had no idea who she
was, and I did end up trying some clothing on that I couldn’t afford. After we
left, Anna explained who she was to me and I realized she was my favorite model
from the show, from one of the only seasons I ever watched.
Meg: That was the blind girl who had long blonde
hair?????????? NOOOOOOOOOO.
I would have gushed over her had I known, but maybe it’s
better that I didn’t. You should never meet your heroes, kids.
We went to galleries, cafes and crystal emporiums and everything we could fit into a single day.
For dinner we went to Jack of the Wood and ate rabbit and
parsnip fries. The fries were a little funky, but interesting. We each had
about four before we couldn’t stand the taste. Then a bluegrass band took the
stage. There was a steel guitar, a twelve-string acoustic, a bass and a
mandolin and all of the musicians were extremely talented.
They sang beautiful harmony and we bought their album for
the road. Then we headed off to the Altamont Theater to meet my dad’s friend
Nathan. He was an Asheville local so we decided it would be cool to see him
while we were in town.
He took us to a West African concert. The man in the
middle’s name is Diali Cissokho and he is Nathan’s teacher. The music was so powerful, charged
with ancient energy. After a few songs the whole room was dancing in front of
the stage. One woman had brought a gourd instrument and she was shaking it
passionately while throwing her head forward and bending into the rhythm.
Another woman danced like a serpent, coiling her wrists and ankles and a
synchronized, hypnotic movement. And then there was an older woman with long,
long blonde hair who danced in a sort of frenzy, hopping on her toes and
flailing her arms. She was my favorite.
After the show it was about 9:30, and we had to get to our
next hotel, which was an hour and a half away in Kingsport, TN. We hurried back
to the car. For the drive we started playing our new CD, and it was every bit
as good as we had hoped it would be. Just as we got on the highway, it started
raining. Visibility was limited and we were going down the mountain now. Cars
were passing us going about 80 mph. As the rain is falling harder and the
mountainside is getting steeper, this song comes on with the lyric “she’s
slipping and she’s sliding” and something about making a deal with the devil.
“I would sell a piece of my soul for us to get through this,”
Anna said. We saw a road leading off the highway that was all lit up with red
lights. “That is the road to Hell,” Anna said. And then she fell asleep.
An hour and change later we had reached the Econolodge in
Kingsport, TN. We wasted no time getting our keys and going straight to bed.
After being up since five in the morning, we were beyond exhausted. This hotel
was quite nice, and after checking my credit card bill, I am amazed that it was
the exact same price as the Ramada Inn. We slept well on comfortable beds in a
quiet room, knowing that the new day would bring our last day on the road, and
then we would be in New York City.
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