It’s been said that people come to Memphis for the three B’s: blues, booze and BBQ. We came for blues and BBQ, and hadn’t thought of the booze part, since that’s pretty much available anywhere, but all three are certainly to be found here.

Friday night we heard some amazingly excellent blues at the Rum Boogie Blues Hall and Juke Joint. Kind of a scruffy looking place, but the music we could hear from the street was irresistible. Squeezed our way in and eventually found a couple of seats. LOVED IT. Didn’t want to leave.

You can hear blues on Beale Street both night . . . 

. . . and day . . .

History is appreciated in Memphis, so there are signs here and there with anecdotes that give some historical perspective. I love the sign below, where a Beale Street merchant is quoted as saying, “What store hours? We never had store hours. When we were here, we were here.” A little more Beale Street . . .

But there’s more here than the three B’s. The other day we walked across the street and down a block or so to tour the Gibson factory where they make hollow-body and semi-hollow-body electric guitars like the one I inherited from my brother Lennie, so it was great to see the process as well as a beautiful collection of custom guitars hanging on the walls. “Lucille,” B.B. King’s guitar, is possibly the most famous Gibson of all time, so here’s the front desk of the factory.

We also witnessed the March of the Ducks at the Peabody Hotel . . . 

Every day at 11:00 a.m. the ducks march (well okay, waddle) from their rooftop “palace” across a red carpet to the elevators, where they descend to the lobby, “march” across another red carpet, and climb a couple of stairs into the fountain. At 5 p.m. the route is reversed. All is supervised and announced with appropriate pomp by the “Duckmaster.” This has become the Peabody Hotel’s signature experience. Hence the souvenir glassware . . . 

Here’s the Peabody fountain, where the ducks mostly swim around in circles, and a view from the roof . . .

The fountain where the ducks swim

Finally on Saturday, our last full day in Memphis, we had a chance to tour the National Civil Rights Museum, housed in the former Lorraine Motel. It is brilliantly arranged and very powerful. If you get a chance to visit, do not miss it. Absolutely first class.

We left Memphis this morning and drove all day toward our next stop, Santa Fe. Tonight I’m writing this from Shawnee, Oklahoma, but I couldn’t leave Memphis without one last post. We had a great time there, even better than we expected.

Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me. ∼Carl Sandburg

Here’s wishing you intriguing adventures, unexpected treats, and excellent versions of at least one B of your choice.

Put on my blue suede shoes and
I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain.

. . . Then I’m walking in Memphis ∼Marc Cohn

Okay, we’re road-tripping, not flying, and when we drove into town, the rain had pretty much stopped, but we are now in Memphis and of course walking a lot, so I can’t get this song out of my head. Before we arrived, we weren’t sure if we’d like it here–urban, inland, colder–but we’re definitely enjoying Memphis so far. It helps that this time we’ve got a really nice condo, artistically decorated . . .

. . . smack in the middle of downtown Memphis, half a block from Main Street and about three blocks from Beale Street . . . ↓

And as of Monday morning . . .

. . . the sun was back out and we’ve been out and about, exploring, including breakfast at the historic Arcade Restaurant, featured in a number of movies and the oldest restaurant in Memphis . . . ↓

It’s right across from the old train station . . . ↓

. . . so as you can see, we’re back in the land of red brick walls . . .

There’s a lot of the unexpected about this leg of the journey, but my powers of predicting the future have been proven completely inadequate before now. I had expected the river trip in France to be a special treat, a relaxing mini-break from the routine, but it was possibly the most stressful week of the entire adventure. I also thought we’d love Panama City Beach, but although the water was beautiful, being in a place that is mainly a vacation destination, not a regular town, made it sort of like living at the mall, just with more souvenir t-shirts for sale.

And my ignorance of geography is embarrassing. Who knew Memphis is barely even in Tennessee? Not me. I thought it was somewhere in the slightly-western middle, but we’re in the far southwest corner, only a few miles north of Mississippi, and we can see Arkansas right across the Mississippi River, roughly four blocks from our downtown condo. I’d basically forgotten there even WAS such a place as Arkansas, and I’ve spent the last year looking at maps. A LOT. Wow. Oh, and by the way, you can’t get Tupelo honey in Tupelo, Mississippi. You have to get that in Florida, my Alabama cousins explained to me. Sheesh. Okay, I could hardly have been expected to know that! Just saying. Still, wish I’d known to stop instead of driving right by a roadside stand in Florida offering it, preferring to wait for the “real” Tupelo honey in Tupelo.

I guess I’m learning that when you’re on a voyage of discovery it’s impossible to avoid having expectations, but I’m humbled by how frequently I’m wrong, and not just about details of place. It seems I can’t even predict what I’ll enjoy, let alone which experiences will be most meaningful or have a lasting resonance.

Ironically, one bit of ignorance may have actually increased the power of another discovery here in Memphis, since it was for us completely out of the blue. As it happens, this condo is exactly three blocks from the Lorraine Motel and the balcony where the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. Somehow, both David and I had forgotten he was shot in Memphis, so it was stunning to go for a walk and stumble upon this . . . ↓

There were a few people around, but everyone was very quiet, respectful of the significance of the place. The wreath is a replica of the original hung on the second floor railing outside room 306, where Dr. King was standing, and the two cars just below in the parking lot are the same year, make and model as were there on the 4th of April 1968, so it had a surreal time-warp quality I can’t really describe. I wish I could convey how unexpectedly moving it was to stand in this place.

There’s certainly much more to tell you about Memphis, but for now I’ll leave you with some timeless wisdom from Dr. King:

I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.

Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’

Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend.

Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.

Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.

∼Martin Luther King, Jr.

Wishing you moving moments of discovery and an abundance of faith and peace and love, no matter where you’re walking.

After a cloudy weekend here on Panama City Beach, Sunday evening gave us this . . .

. . . and Monday, this . . . 

So now I’m understanding the Aqua part. The water here is absolutely crystal clear. Gorgeous.

The beach, at least near us, is surprisingly uncrowded, since it’s the height of spring break season. When we go out to walk, it’s a bit like being the only minivan at Sturgis. Probably not even exaggerating to say roughly 99% of the people here this week are under 25 years old. They get going a bit later in the morning than we do, but even before the sun sets . . .

. . . they’re all doing their college spring break thing, including blaring outdoor karaoke followed by a nightly dance party that goes until about 2 a.m. every night across the street from our condo. Fortunately, the door is heavy, the walls are thick and the windows and window coverings are substantial, so although it’s audible, it’s at least muted at bit.

During our walks, we overhear rather more interpersonal drama than we have in other locales with an older demographic. And yesterday I glanced at the street in time to witness a Girls-Gone-Wild moment when a young woman popped out of the sunroof of a passing car. Whatever. (And, no, there’s no photo!)

Mostly harmless it seems, but I’ve lived long enough to know some choices do have lasting consequences.

By three methods we may learn wisdom: first, by reflection, which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest. ∼Confucius

Blessed are those who find wisdom, those who gain understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. ∼Proverbs 3:13-14

So I’m hoping for all these young men and women–as well as for the rest of us, really–wisdom, deep and wide as the ocean; foresight, penetrating beyond the horizon; and clarity, sparkling as the waters of the Gulf.

Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions. ∼Henri Nouwen

This morning it looked like this . . .

. . . but even as I write, here comes the sun. Amen.

Sunset on St. Pete Beach – March 2015

Beautiful as the setting sun can be, we let it set on St. Pete Beach without us on Friday and checked out a day early from the dismal condo we’d rented. No regrets, as this plan had the added bonus of shortening our drive on Saturday. We spent Friday night in Crystal River . . . . ↓

. . . on our way to the Aqua Condominiums in Panama City Beach.      Saturday’s drive was long, but there wasn’t much traffic for most of the way along the Big Bend Scenic Byway Coastal Trail.

We passed places with names like Apalachicola and Ochlockonee Bay, and carefully drove by Tate’s Hell State Forest–must be a reason for that name. We finally  found EVERYBODY AND THEIR MOM in Panama City Beach, apparently all in their cars . . .

. . . since it was nearly impossible to even make a left turn. Be sure to note the Longhorn Steer car.

The beach, on the other hand, is not really that crowded.

When we got into the condo I noticed all the clocks were an hour off. Someone had neglected to spring ahead, I thought, so I helpfully went around and changed all the clocks. This morning I woke up to discover my phone had finally updated, and now the clocks were an hour off the other way. Oops. Turns out we’ve driven far enough west that we’re now on Central Time. Sheesh. Yes, I changed all the clocks back to the correct time. 

Really reminds me we’re on the road home.  The compass in the car says N, or W or NW nearly all the time now, and in a few days we head inland for good.

It’s cool and cloudy here at the moment, and a bit more jade than aqua . . . →

. . . but we can still enjoy the shimmering afternoon light on the sea and I’m hoping for a few more spectacular sunsets.  

There’s something about the vastness of the sea and sky together that is both humbling and soothing. I’ll miss these views and colors, but I am beginning to long for home. Until then, I’ll soak it all in this week and share the best of it with you.

I could never stay long enough on the shore; the tang of the untainted, fresh, and free sea air was like a cool, quieting thought. ∼Helen Keller

The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever. ∼Jacques Yves Cousteau

The mountains are calling, but the sea hasn’t seen the last of us!

There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky; there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul.
∼Victor Hugo