Rain. Bugger. A heavy drizzle is falling so, after an excellent (& complimentary
) breakfast, I load the bike and set off, deciding to head South, in the hope of it at least getting a bit warmer… Before I leave the room, I notice a sign by the sprinkler in the ceiling – I wonder what caused them to put that up there…
I use the GPS as a compass and, by-passing Atlanta, get off the Interstate as soon as I can and start heading down some back roads. In the attractivly named town of Locust Grove, I see the owner of the local ‘mini-warehouse’ complex has used a T33 to advertise the fact.
On the way out of town, it’s clear that the aviation theme is a strong one in this line of business…
Stopped to get my bearings, I indulge in a little train-spotting
This train is enormous – I didn’t bother counting the number of trucks it was towing, but it must’ve been over 100.
The load was nearly all containers – some stacked 2 high – this part of the world obviously doesn’t have low bridges or tunnels…
After 125 miles or so, I’m cold, tired and wet (only on the outside, though – all my waterproofs are doing fine
). As is my habit, I ignore the line of MacDonalds, Taco Bells & KFCs when I enter the town of Jackson, and instead, decide to try the Lunch Box.
As I walk in, the elderly waitress asks what I want – quite abruptly. I said I wanted lunch – she pointed at the only vacant table :
‘You can sit there – what do you want to drink?’
‘Coffee please, black’
‘We don’t have coffee, we don’t open for breakfast’ (
‘OK, what hot drinks do you have?’
‘Do you have soup’
’Just sold out’ (It’s two minutes past midday :eek )
‘Can I see the menu, please’
She brings me a menu and immediately asks if I know what I want to order – I haven’t opened it yet. I ask for a minute and she returns 5 seconds later. I order the special, which was neither special, nor memorable, as I cannot recall what it was, other than bland.
The whole time I was eating, 3 men at the table opposite me (dressed in the southern uniform of jeans, plaid shirt and baseball caps, to co-ordinate with the goatee and pony-tail theme their barber’s had chosen for them) stared wordlessly at me. I quickly ate my lunch, paid my bill & departed. Quite what I’d done to provoke this kind of hostility I don’t know, but Jackson, Georgia, is off my re-visit list…
I press South and, fed up with the continuous rain, find succour in the shape of the Best Western Riverside Inn at Macon, a city I know absolutely nothing about. Hot shower, king size bed, Chinese restaurant next door – what more do I need to know…;)