Memphis Day 1

"Long distance information, give me Memphis Tennessee
Help me find the party trying to get in touch with me
She could not leave her number, but I know who placed the call
'Cause my uncle took the message and he wrote it on the wall"

I couldn't help but hear that song in my head all the way to Memphis.  I'm a victim of programming you know.  Actually, I'd been hearing it ever since we said our goodbyes to Sue and Luke in Washington.  They were on their way back to Edinburgh, and I didn't envy them the long flight back followed by an equally horrendous train journey.  As for Caro and me, we caught a flight to Atlanta, followed by a flight on to Memphis.

It wasn't a great flight.  Not aided by the fact that when we had bought the tickets at a Council Travel place in Georgetown, the girl had cheerfully informed us that although it was the cheapest airline, they didn't usually sell tickets for them anymore because, "They had a couple of real bad incidents."  “Incidents” being a travel euphemism for, “Terrifying Ground Plummet Trauma Situations”, no doubt.

Oh well, as I said to Caro, if the plane went down in flames, at least we would be getting a bargain.

The airline, Air Tran (in case you want to know who to avoid) runs a fleet of antiquated DC-9's and I'm of the generations that still sniggers when you mention DC-10's so this wasn't good news.  Actually, I'm sure that Air Tran is now desperate to avoid further bad publicity and is probably more safety-concious than most, but still - those old planes make for hairy landings and our two flights didn't so much descend as SPLAT into their destinations.  (“If passengers could collect the contents of their overhead luggage compartments and their stomachs on the way out of the plane, it would be most appreciated.  Thank you for flying Air Near Death Experience.”)

Our taxi ride from the airport to the Howard Johnson in Memphis was somewhat sobering.  Those of you who have actually made it thus far through the narrative will recall that Caro and I are somewhat cautious, careful – some might even say “chicken shit” - tourists.  And we scare easily.  The thing that freaks us out quite a lot is lack of people.  Or perhaps I should be more specific here and say lack of WITNESSES.  Our hotel was bang in the centre of Memphis and yet there was still a worrying lack of life outside.  We holed up for the evening and ordered Chinese delivery.