Oh my god. I'm literally in Forest Gump land. It's fantabulous.
This morning we left Florida. For good. Which was slightly terrifying, and made even more so when I had to navigate our way through the scariest electric storm ever.
But just after noon we crossed over the state line to Alabama and shimmied down to the darling seaside town of Mobile. And yes, I admit it, Rich and I sung the line 'Stuck inside of Mobile with these Memphis Blues Again' about ten billion million times.
The town is very historic and started Mardi Gras years before New Orleans (I read this in Lonely Planet). We're staying in an ancient hotel seeped in history which has been going since the Civil War. That's nothing in terms of English history, but here it's a pretty big deal. There's gas lanterns instead of streetlights and the place is a town warp.
It's very pretty, cultural, exciting yadda yadda yadda. But the real reason we came here was to see the US Alabama WW2 ship - which we pilgrimaged to this afternoon.
The battleship was the biggest bloody thing I have ever seen with my eyeballs. Ever. Rich and I were in awed silence driving up to it. I'll try and remember some facts for you....It was home to hundreds upon hundreds of American sailors during the war, defending British waters from the Germans with their large exciting guns. It's also very famous because it survived 11(?) giant strikes but never sunk.
Americans give you much greater access to historic tourist destinations than English people. While we keep Stone Henge cooped up in fencing and create laser beams preventing visitors from getting too close to museum exhibits, Americans just let you climb all over stuff. Rich and I were clambering around the ship like giant children high on Sunny Delight. It was an odd experience because we would be making large gun noises, or screeching 'COVERING FIRE' at each other and basically having the time of our lives.... But then we would stop and read a placard dedicated to men who had died on the ship during attacks and you would get that hollow feeling in your stomach when you realise just what Average-Joes like them sacrificed for the greater good. But, deep thoughts about morality and the nature of war aside, the place rocked. We also got to explore a WW2 submarine as well as various aircraft and the whole experience was well worth the detour.
We spent the evening walking around the historic district where we were randomly invited to a bar by a total stranger. In the spirit of Southern-friendliness we accepted the girl's request and had a brilliant time sipping Bud Light with her and learning about her life. She was a fab hippy-type girl called Mkenzie who works in an independent book shop. Within half an hour we: knew she was majoring in English, learnt she had Baptist parents who were racist at least 110 percent of the time, had been given a list of eight bands we needed to listen to, and were introduced to all of her other friends who were equally charming.
I'm still reeling in shock at the friendliness of people here. They all do just go up and talk to each other in the street and invite you into their lives without hesitation or ulterior motive. I dunno, maybe it gets boring after a while. But, for now, it's a nice change from the eyes-down-on-the-tube, don't-talk-to-strangers, no-I-don't-know-what-the-time-is English persona.
As I said before - it will wear off when we get to Texas.
Off to New Orleans tomorrow where we plan to get fat and drunk simultaneously.
COVERING FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Holly
xxx
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