The journey down from Kentucky through Tennessee took longer than expected as we drove through wave after wave of torrential rain which slowed traffic on the interstate down to 30-40mph and made visibility truly awful, worsened by insane truck drivers ignoring the conditions to plough past you in the fast lane at 70 adding their spray to the picture. Actually that is something that is taking a bit of getting used to. In the UK and Europe cars overtake trucks, which usually sit quietly in the slow lane minding their own business overtaking only when they encounter a caravan. In the States trucks generally ignore all speed restrictions and fly down the outside lane. On our trip to north Carolina I actually saw a truck overtake an Aston Martin. Ok the woman driving the Aston Martin was going stupidly slow but still... come on!! Yet it is quite nerve wracking looking in your rear view mirror as you speed down the fast lane to overtake two trucks doing 70 to see a lunatic semi driver flashing his headlights at you to move over.
When we arrived at the cabin it was amazing... raised from the ground it enjoyed 180 degree views of the mountains, boasted a hot tub, pool table, central air, satellite TV and a gas grill (BBQ for you Brits reading). It was also a really weird shape -- almost round it had 16 sides!! Oh and musn't forget to mention that the owners had left a list of things not to do that would have made a German bureaucrat proud. We got a bit lost at the end of the trip so we were glad that our friends Blaire and Bob had already found the place and could guide us in... the perils of using Google maps to find your way!
First day we, actually it was my idea, decided to climb a local landmark -- Chimney Rock. Although we set off fairly early the heat and the fact that most of the sections were reached by stairs, proved to be a killer but it was worth it. Amazing views rewarded our efforts and we got to see both a waterfall that 'starred' in Last of the Mohican's and a rattlesnake, whose intervention meant we couldn't enjoy the pool at the bottom of the falls as the park officials felt it necessary to cordon the area off while the three of them tried to cajole the snake into a rubbish bin with a large stick!! (It was quite amusing actually).
In the evening we ignored a whole host of the rules left by our hosts and proceeded to get drunk and enjoy the hot tub at the same time. No damage except a sore head the next day. Also discovered that forests in the US are not peaceful at night, far from it. They are incredibly noisy, even without my hearing aids, as a cacophony of tree frogs bursts forth the moment the sun sets, joined with a backing chorus of cicadas.
Day two started with some downtime just soaking up the rays and enjoying the views, before heading off into Asheville for the annual Bele Chere festival.
Asheville was a surprise. Between them Melanie and Bert had painted an image of the South that largely conformed to my pre-existing stereotypes of life below the Mason-Dixie line. The characteristic drawl, dueling banjos, moonshine, confederate flags, overalls, ice tea, bluegrass, bourbon and well you get the picture. Well Asheville was far from this. Almost the polar opposite it. It was as if someone had taken three blocks of San Fransisco and dropped them in North Carolina. The first sight to greet me when we arrived was a preacher condemning homosexuality flanked by gay rights activists flying the rainbow gay pride flag. Two of these protesters were wearing nothing except speedos, one with free hugs daubed on his chest, while the other. Well lets just say he was obviously well-endowed and leave it at that.
The town itself was and endless collection of independent shops, restaurants and bars. Antiques galore and tonnes of glorious and completely useless kitsch. One antique store had a special collection of soviet army issue hip flasks, helmets, fur hats and propaganda posters. Next to this was a shop selling crystal jewelry and terrible paintings of animals and animal 'spirits'. The streets were lined with handmade goods, chocolates, traditional arts, Amish furniture, Americana, campaigners against Kentucky Fried Chicken and so forth. The crowds also seemed to contain an enormous number of tattooed young people, and I am not talking of the odd tasteful Celtic arm band or shoulder motif but enormously colourful and elaborate designs that a Japanese Yakuza would be proud of. Young women with tattoos on their neck and cleavage that obviously went down to incorporate much more. And then there were the hippies -- Old school, grooving since Woodstock, new school with their rebellion against capitalism still in full swing and among them my pet hate.. white men with dreadlocks!! Of course while I found this baffling and amusing (given what I expected of North Carolina), Bob was appalled. Bob, despite being married to a liberal American woman, is an old school American male of the hunting and grilling variety, opposed to his wife on almost all political issues he would be far more at home at an NRA convention than at a hippy festival. Still we were both placated by the fact that Asheville is also home to a large number of great micro breweries and so we sat back drank some great beer and watched the great cultural divide that is the United States before us.
To bring the days events to an end at 6.30 all the hippies assembled for a drum circle (which apparently takes place every Friday through the year as well) and a cacophony of drum beats began soon followed by a growing crowd of dancers (of which 99.99% were women), some too enthusiastic (one woman collapsed of heat exhaustion), some too erotic, and some who simply had absolutely no rhythm at all. Much to Bob's horror after 40 minutes of an escalating tempo and beat his wife decided that she could stand aside no longer and along with Mrs Dr kicked off their shoes and joined in the swirling and swaying.
To misquote Star Trek's Bones McCoy, all I can say is "its.. [the South] Jim but not as we know it"
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