Ken crosses an unpronounceable river into Eastern Standard Time. Very close to the border with Georgia. State not the Republic…
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January 27th, 2012Subway secrets
January 27th, 2012Ken reveals the possibility of healthy fast food… With especial thanks to Mike from Minnesota..
Defining feature
January 27th, 2012I’d long pondered what really defined the First World. There’d be a UN metric of course. But I’d sought something more tangible, substantive. Drawing on observations of North America, Australia, New Zealand, Hong Kong and Western Europe. Contrasting these with upwardly mobile nations such as Turkey, Republic of Georgia and China.
Toyed with ideas such as universal health care provision. But that didn’t work for much of North America. Cuba excepted. Similarly the eradication of poverty. That popped up everywhere in varying degrees. Individual freedoms, such as those of expression or the right to protest, were indicators. Same for democracy and the absence of corruption amongst daily life. But nations such as Singapore precluded these as being defining features.
Then it’d hit me. There’d been signs. Literally. Dog grooming. For if a society could afford pampered pets, it pretty much had the fundamentals in order. An empirical analysis, but one I thought pretty rigorous.
Fried Green Tomatoes
January 26th, 2012
I’d sought lunch at Sally’s place back in Ponce De Leon. Two minutes I’d said. Fifteen minutes ago. So I’d got up and left. My server seemingly unaware of my disgruntled departure, despite having just three customers to attend to. Disappointing. Enticing kitchen aroma, and some sensibly priced choices on the menu.
Reminded me a little of a cafe bakery in Portmadoc a few years ago. Quickly apparent they’d no intention of ever serving me. If they’d actually had the decency to say so I’d not have minded so much. But they hadn’t. Instead the silent treatment. Cowardice in the second degree. Sort of thing they invented firing squads for.
But then I’d stumbled on a sign for the Whistle Stop Cafe. About ten miles further on in Westville. No fried green tomatoes, but the cook insisted I try their deep fried Oreos. Served drizzled with melted chocolate and dusted with icing sugar, the usually dry cookies transformed into a soft, sweet filling. Moorish I’d said.
Whistle Stop Cafe
January 26th, 2012Ken stumbles on the Whistle Stop Cafe. In Westville. Alas, fried green tomatoes not on the menu. But there are deep fried Oreos…
Sunshine State
January 25th, 2012
Florida had a neatness that’d been mostly lacking in the poorer Southern States of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. Home, I’d been told, of Seaside, setting for the flawless world of Jim Carey’s The Truman Show. I’d taken few photos since leaving Texas, simply because there wasn’t much to catch my eye. Or the camera would have drawn unwelcome attention. Wrong part of town.
I’d spent my first night in Florida down in the naval town of Pensacola. Staying with Ray and Donna. Eclectic contents gave their home character. Collectors rather than hoarders, with something of an underlying nautical theme. Small model sail boats in the bathroom.
They’d warned me I’d soon hit hills. Well known simply because they were the only ones in the entire State. Just my luck. But, in practice, they’d not been too bad at all. Kept me warm, for Sunshine State it might be, cold it certainly was. Following Highway 90 north east towards Milton had been tedious, small shoulder and frequently inconsiderate traffic. I’d noticed the town of Bagdad a short distance to the south, on the banks of the Blackwater river. Wondering if this was merely coincidence – the latter being a private military company with a tarnished reputation in Iraq.
The afternoon was warmer, winter gloves returned to the panniers, with quieter roads for much of the way to Crestview and a stop for the night. And the discovery my can of WD40 had discharged much of its contents into one of my bags. Deep joy.
On the Blackwater trail
January 25th, 2012Funny thing coincidences. East of Pensacola. Small town of Bagdad. Close by the Blackwater river. Also the name of a errr… controversial security company that’s been under quite a bit of scrutiny for its activities in Iraq. Probably nothing in it….
Outbound from Pensacola
January 25th, 2012Ken heads out of Pensacola, off to the only hills in the entire State of Florida. Apparently.
Sketchy departure
January 24th, 2012Simple plan. Of sorts. Across Alabama Bay then pick up Highway 90 back to the coast at Pensacola. And into Florida. Save for the exit from Mobile, and the final section, I’d no map. Reliant instead on a rough sketch I’d made of the route in my pocket book. Penned an outline, annotated with a few major intersections and one town – Loxley – to serve as headmarks.
Except I’d overlooked the need for a bit of a detour through north Mobile to reach the causeway across the bay. Bicycles prohibited from using the more direct tunnel route. Obliged instead to ride through Alabama State Docks. Numerous rail tracks. Scrap yards. A wrong turn. Tedious.
Beyond the bay progress had picked up. Long straight stretch of highway, rolling far into the distance. Then Loxley. Lunch stop and chance to assess progress. I’d forty or so miles to go, and just over three hours of daylight left.
Goodbye Sweet Home Alabama
January 24th, 2012Ken says goodbye to Sweet Home Alabama. Heading into Florida, the Sunshine State…
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