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The Gulf Coast

alexisjulian — Thu, 24 May 2012 18:17:31 +0000

The weekend after our trip to Tennessee was the big one. It was time for us to venture down to the Gulf Coast.

And our first stop was in Mobile, Alabama.

Actually, that’s not true. Our first stop was at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. A Subway sandwich shop clung to the side of the building and we ate our lunches quickly as a robust family gossiped and laughed at the table next to us. But I digress.

Mobile was cool. It felt a bit more lush, a bit more open, a bit more relaxed than central Alabama, though it was also grittier. You got the feeling Mobile had a romantic soul.

But we kept driving. Into a little, picturesque town called Fairhope, Alabama. Where I literally jumped out of the car at a red light to chase down a Girl Scout selling cookies out of a little red wagon. We walked around the town, which felt like a soundstage for The Stepford Wives, and ate Thin Mints. On our way out of town, we stopped for a few snapshots of dusk on Mobile Bay.

But we kept driving. And the endless fields of grass ended and gave way to this…

And I met the Atlantic Ocean for the very first time!

It was terribly exciting. No, really. Because for one thing, that beach was white and that sand was fine. As in, the opposite of our rocky, driftwood laden beaches. For another thing, there are really neat shells on that beach! Like, the kind you buy at craft stores here. And for a third thing, I love oceans!!

But we kept driving. And we were starving. We let our stomachs guide us into The Sunshine State and right on into Pensacola. I’ve just realized how simple this all sounds, and that needs to be corrected. Because I’ve neglected to mention that this was Mardi Gras weekend.

A Word on Mardi Gras: This may come as a shock to you Pacific Northwesterners or others we will deem Similarly-Uneducated-in-Southern-Tradition but Mardi Gras exists outside of New Orleans. I am not being facetious or attempting to be condescending, I was absolutely shocked. A lot of towns in the South celebrate Mardi Gras, for weeks at a time, with parades multiple times a day (but at least daily). It’s a big deal. It also means we were stuck in hellacious traffic behind a parade as we drove into Pensacola, which explains why we were so absolutely famished by the time we arrived.

So we pretty much stopped at the first place we saw. Which was a good thing, because Jaco’s Bayfront Bar and Grill has crab cake sliders that will change your life. If you are ever in Pensacola, I ask that you please do yourself a favor and dine there. Unfortunately, photographic evidence does not exist of these elusive delicacies because I began my meal with my standard Long Island iced tea (+ empty stomach) and… all my pictures came out blurry. Weird.

My favorite thing about Pensacola itself, however, was a place called Seville Quarter: “Seven rooms of fun, seven nights a week!” I think this is a brilliant concept. You pay one cover and enter a courtyard where seven different bars, for all intents and purposes, are set up. They’re separated very well so everyone can be where they want to be, but they’re also different. There was a hip hop club, more of a honkey tonk, an outdoor country area. It was a very neat place. And it is also where I met up with Brittney who I have known for a very long time. (She had just come from a Mardi Gras masquerade ball – what! Southern Belles get to have way more fun!) Anyway, yeah, woooo, Florida!

The next morning, we drove through a torrential downpour in Mississippi on our way to Louisiana. And I will tell you alllllll about that… next time!

Nashville, Tennessee

alexisjulian — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 19:20:44 +0000

At 4 o’clock, the bars were alive, music was pouring out into the streets, and Nashville had my heart almost instantly. The weather was unfavorable (below freezing with a wind chill), but the sky was blue and the city was beautiful.

We ate dangerously — a huge pasta feast in our Aloft hotel beds from Roma’s Pizza & Pasta, mahi mahi tacos and sinful cookie dough eggrolls at Jackson’s Bar & Bistro were particularly memorable (and delicious) highlights. On the Saturday of our visit, we spent some time on the stunning Vanderbilt campus and followed it up with a trip to the bizarre replica Parthenon.

The Victorian architecture on our first overcast day reminded me so much of Seattle; so did all the musicians, but in Tennessee hipsters strum guitars with a twang. Nashville is an eclectic, vibrant, and sophisticated city. It’s one of those places that feeds off the energy of its inhabitants and becomes charged with that energy. The streets are alive with the music, the buildings swell with sound. And as you walk around Broadway in the heart of downtown, it’s easy to imagine the weight of a guitar strapped to your back. Soaking up the lights and the tunes and the people. Like you came to the Nashville to cash in on your dreams, too.

hindsight haiku -- pink cadillac (on the road)

QuoinMonkey — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 04:45:01 +0000

Back in Pennsylvania. I always think I’m going to post more than I do from the road. But at the end of the day, I find myself exhausted. Out as soon as the head hits the pillow. Perhaps it’s the introvert in me. I love traveling West to East, North to South, all the people I see only once a year. I wish there were a dozen of me. Maybe a baker’s dozen.

Yesterday I drove 13 hours back from Georgia with Mom. I spent this October day with my family in Pennsylvania. It’s almost 4am and I find myself wide awake, wanting to write. It’s the best I can do to post a haiku, a note, a few photographs from the Pink Cadillac Diner in Natural Bridge, Virginia. It’s a little off the beaten trail. Mom was finishing up her ice cream cone while I walked out to photograph the Caddy. A young woman strode proudly up behind me with her two daughters, camera in tow.

“My dad took a photo of me in front of this very spot,” she said, “and now I get to take a photo of you.” Snap. I watched her daughters gleaming next to the rusty chrome. “Would you like me to take a photo of all of you together?” I asked. “I’d love that,” she smiled, rushing over to hand me her pocket camera.

Lineage. Family legacies. The things we pass down.

The day was perfect for driving. The light illuminated by Fall. I hung my head out the window and snapped photos of a sunset front over Virginia. There is so much to tell. For the time being, will you settle for the highlights?

visiting the Gertrude Herbert Institute of Art in Augusta, Georgia with my mother
walking with my dad through the Brick Pond Ecological Park in North Augusta, South Carolina
dining on my uncle’s chili he’s been making since he was 12
riding on the back of my brother’s Harley Softtail
driving through Virginia with the mountains framed in gold
visiting my paternal grandparents’ graves for the first time with my aunt
photographing a historic Sand Oak at Westover Memorial Park Cemetery
standing by the Savannah River on the down side of Clarks Hill Dam
spending the day on the Georgia side of Clarks Hill Lake working on family history with Mom
watching the Vikings/Steelers game with my family
grits, sweet tea, barbecue hash, boiled peanuts
seeing the faces of my brother and mom at the airport when I land
talking to Liz on the new BlackBerry from Sconyer’s Bar-B-Que (she asked for hushpuppies)
Twittering across the Mason-Dixon line (and the rest of the 1200 mile round trip to Georgia) with the same said BlackBerry
photographing the October Blood Moon rising over Pennsylvania, setting over Georgia and South Carolina
writing haiku in the air, Minnesota to Maryland and Pennsylvania
watching my sister-in-law tap dance across her living room floor (and later my niece and brother’s fiancee danced across the same floor)
The Beatles Rock Band with my niece, nephew, and brother in his living room
attending a huge Halloween bash with my aunt at the Julian Smith Casino building where in the 1950′s my mother used to go to dances and work barbecues to raise money to build a local church
laughing with my family, North and South
stopping at the Pink Cadillac Diner in Virginia with Mom on the way home from Georgia

season to season
hindsight is 20/20
reflecting the past;
future remains uncertain,
jumps hoops through the looking glass

-posted on red Ravine, Sunday, October 25th, 2009