Our stop-over spot on the way to Memphis
was the town of Little Rock, Arkansas, and we arrived in extreme heat and spent the afternoon in the clear, cool waters of the pool before getting back on the road the next day for Memphis.
And then there was Memphis – hot, humid, run-down and unfriendly. Despite all this, we walked down to Graceland about a block away from where we were camped, intending to stroll through Elvis’ famous home or even just the grounds, to take some pictures. Well, that was not to be. The entrance fee was a staggering $30 each (about R210 each) and then the only access was via a shuttle bus. Change of plan – we would cross over and see what we could see through the gates, so we waited for the pedestrian sign before crossing the road at the light. Imagine our horror when, halfway across the road, we looked up to see a shuttle bus bearing down on us from the Graceland gateway!! I could not believe that it would not stop, called out to it, but on it came – at the last minute my disbelief gave way to action and I leapt out of its path, as it brushed by within inches of me. Sid ran over to confront the driver, who apologized and said she had been chatting to her passengers and didn’t see us!
We never did get to see Graceland. We caught a passing bus downtown, and spent about an hour looking round there, but the shock of near catastrophe hung on and was really difficult to overcome, so after a short trolley-bus ride around the river area,
we headed home, hot, tired and shaken. Memphis, for us, was a place best left as soon as possible.
was the town of Little Rock, Arkansas, and we arrived in extreme heat and spent the afternoon in the clear, cool waters of the pool before getting back on the road the next day for Memphis.
And then there was Memphis – hot, humid, run-down and unfriendly. Despite all this, we walked down to Graceland about a block away from where we were camped, intending to stroll through Elvis’ famous home or even just the grounds, to take some pictures. Well, that was not to be. The entrance fee was a staggering $30 each (about R210 each) and then the only access was via a shuttle bus. Change of plan – we would cross over and see what we could see through the gates, so we waited for the pedestrian sign before crossing the road at the light. Imagine our horror when, halfway across the road, we looked up to see a shuttle bus bearing down on us from the Graceland gateway!! I could not believe that it would not stop, called out to it, but on it came – at the last minute my disbelief gave way to action and I leapt out of its path, as it brushed by within inches of me. Sid ran over to confront the driver, who apologized and said she had been chatting to her passengers and didn’t see us!
We never did get to see Graceland. We caught a passing bus downtown, and spent about an hour looking round there, but the shock of near catastrophe hung on and was really difficult to overcome, so after a short trolley-bus ride around the river area,
we headed home, hot, tired and shaken. Memphis, for us, was a place best left as soon as possible.
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