I suppose it was inevitable. I had looked forward to this trip to explore a piece of the USA not properly explored, so coming down with a thick head cold was practically a requirement. Naturally I got it when we were visiting Gary and Barbara outside Nashville. Everyone needs friends like them. Not least because they occupy a rural palace, just the place to stage a noisy bronchial recovery.
The other thing is they live a half hour outside Nashville a city of certain opulent charms. We are told that when we return, not ill, there is a country music museum which I’d like to visit oddly enough, to broaden my education. This is however the city of bridal showers and I’m not joking.
My only excuse for the quality of the pictures was the state of my health and an outside temperature in the mid 90s, but everywhere you looked women were walking, drinking, partying and shopping. Fellini would have loved it. I was overwhelmed.
This town deserves a second look and not just for the pedestrians. I’ve heard opera all over the place but never at the Opry so I think that needs to happen before I die.
Gary and Barbara were splendid and showed me ways of defeating my symptoms, they being of the medical profession and the rest of my visit was rather subdued as a consequence. More importantly Rusty loved their place.
We left with real reluctance. Feeling better but feeling slightly deprived. Rusty was pining for the deciduous forests, the proud wild turkeys strutting in front of him and the fearless families of giant deer.