Days 84-95 Oct 30-Nov 10 Traveled, AR, MS, AL BATHS, BLUES AND BIRMINGHAM It was time to start heading back east towards New York City. I want to stay low to hang on to as much of the warmth as possible... although I have to admit it was getting too cold to sleep in The Beast, so was motel hopping instead. First stop was Hot Springs, Arkansas; boyhood home of Bill Clinton, so if it was good enough for Bill.... Hot Springs is really America's answer to Bath, but from around the 1900's rather than the Roman era. People would come and bathe in the naturally hot mineral waters for theraputic purposes and then walk along the Grand Promenade. They had restored the original Bathhouses and you can wander down Bathhouse Row and see the beautiful and varied architecture. Several of the Bathhouses are still operational and it seemed like a good way to help my aching muscles after all the riding on the ranch. I chose the Quapaw Bathouse and bought the average age down of the clientelle by about 20 years. As I moved between the four baths of differing temperatures I noticed I was being followed by an elderly, very hirsute gentelman; it was like being persued in slow motion by a silver backed gorilla - time to get out of the baths and go and have a massage! Next I drove across to Clarkesdale, Mississippi, home of the Blues, with a good museum called the Delta Blues Museum which pays hommage to many of the Blue's greats, including an extensive area on Muddy Waters. Having learnt about the Blues it was time that evening to go and listen to some and 'Red's Blues Club' where a 16yr old called Kingfish was playing. He was electricifying and hard to believe only 16; honestly check him out on YouTube and you'll see what I mean. I stayed in the Shack Up Inn - thanks Marsha for the recommendation! - which is the beautiful mish-mash of old shacks each unique and with it's own personality. I stayed in the Buiscuit Shack (of course next to Gravy Shack). Here I had the worst rain of the trip and for two days as the rain beat down on the tin roof of my shack I borrowed a guitar from the front desk and bashed my way through some basic chords. I am not a natural guitar player and days later the tips of my fingers are still numb (is that normal?!). In keeping with the rich musical heritage of Mississippi I went on to Tupelo, birthplace of Elvis. You can walk through the tiny house he was born in, with his still-born twin brother Jesse who I didn't know about, back in 1935 and then experience a church service in his local church, really beautifully done. And then finally in this stretch onto Birmingham, Alabama, renowed not for music, but it's chequered history through the civil rights movement. Here I visited Civil Rights Museum, one of the best museums I've ever been to. Very thoughtfully laid out, a lot of recreated side-by-side comparisons how life differed for whites versus blacks. I stayed several hours and could have easily stayed a couple more, but it was closing time and I had to be ushered out by the kind, elderly guard. If the Northwest taught me a little more about the Native Americans, then the South is teaching me a little more about the African Americans; they are sobering moments.
