Too much boot scootin' = sore feet.

After three days of catching up with my closest friends from San Diego, stuffing myself full of authentic Mexican food and generally easing myself back into the American culture, it was time to embark upon my holiday "proper". Andrew was kind enough to drive me to LAX through the peak hour traffic from Vista, no small feat, and I thoroughly appreciate his generosity. We arrived into LAX with plenty of time to spare (told you so Donna & Shawn!) and after receiving some incredibly sub-standard "service" at ChilisToo (I know I know but it was either Chilis or Burger King... and a girl needs a feed!) I was feeling pretty smug with my American food ordering skills: "I'll have two eggs over easy please and coffee with 2%". Smooooth.

I must say the "perp pose" Donna forewarned me about that happens as part of the security measures at LAX is a little invasive... you have to stand with your feet apart and your 'hands up' like you're about to be arrested, and then they do this x-ray of your entire body which goes through to some little pervert staring at everyone's naked body in a room somewhere. The security guy on the other side of the x-ray machine actually smirked at me and said "good ma'am.."!! Perhaps I should've gone with Donna's "I opt out" recommendation, but I just was feeling quite anxious to get to the other side and find my gate, and have my breakfast. I had imagined scenarios following my "I opt out" announcement that included being fully strip-searched and cavity-searched and worse yet (haha) - refusal of flying.

I sat at my gate with two hours two spare, and just people watched, and played with my iPhone.. the usual time-killers. It amused me to see Mark Wahlberg walk past - he'd just gotten off a flight that arrive into the gate next to mine - and hear someone say "wow he's not as tall as I would expect!". First celebrity sighting down.. one more to go (so far). At the baggage carousel in Nashville there were all these gushing women and one striking looking black man carrying the most gorgeous toddler with a cherubic mop of golden curls. Took me a while to place him (and uh.. *cough* asking one of the adoring women who he was..) but I got there eventually... Hank Baskett. Not ringing any bells? Does this help? He's Kendra Wilkinson's husband. Yes. THAT Kendra. As in, Hugh Hefner's ex-girlfriend. Kenda from "Girls of the Playboy Mansion". Still not thrilling you? Nah, me neither, I didn't ask for an autograph.. I mean, he's a retired NFL player. Seemed like a nice guy though, but he drew the line at photos because he doesn't allow photos of his son. That move scored respect from me, I have to say.

Flying from California to Tennessee was a bit of an eye-opener.. I was awake most of the flight, and the view out of my plane window was spectacular. I eventually fell asleep having drunk in the beauty of the barren deserts of Nevada, and when I awoke and the clouds cleared, all I could see below were lush green hills, a blue river twinkling gold as the sunlight reflected on it, and many, many trees. Tennessee is worlds apart from California in its landscape - everywhere there's water and SO MANY TREES. It feels as though I've fallen into a story book full of lush green forests, fairies (aka fireflies) darting in and out of hedges, trolls (aka natives with no teeth.. err..) and the occasional helpful knight (aka Southern Hospitality).

I spent my first night in Nashville walking the nightlife strip. Broadway is the Nashville's answer to Las Vegas - one long strip of an unbelievable amount of neon lights, over-the-top signage and drunk happy people everywhere. Just replace gambling with boot scootin' and there, you've got yourself Broadway in Nashville. One thing I will make clear to anyone wanting to go to Nashville and experience the nightlife for yourself is this - don't attempt to park anywhere unless you want to spend $20 on parking, regardless of how long (or short) you wish to park for. There are many privately owned car parks in town, and every single one I went to was $20! No option of paying for only an hour (I only wanted to eat dinner and drink in a local beer and some of the world-famous honky-tonk ambiance) which I just found appalling. Eventually after circling further out of the heart of the city, I found an undercover garage that was advertising $10 maximum parking - that sounded like the ticket! (insert 'dad chuckle' here..)

Walking Broadway is an odd feeling.. there's that smell in the air - you know the one - anything is possible, and the airs on your neck tell you that you might just want to watch your purse a little closer than you would at home. There is a lot of panhandling happening in Nashville, and if you look closely, you'll see signs everywhere stating not to 'feed the panhandlers' - basically, don't encourage them and don't feel bad about not giving them your money, because there are apparently good homeless services set up in Nashville to deal with the problem.

I did a lap of Broadway and decided I would try out Tootsie's Orchid Bar & Lounge, which was one of the places Lonely Planet had suggested I try.. I had stuck my nose into Robert's Western World (also on LP's list) but decided it was far too grungy for me to attempt without a chaperone. Well this proven to be a bad decision, because they don't serve dinner. A quick chat with the gruff but helpful bouncers and I was pointed in the right direction - across the road at Rippy's Ribs. A restaurant-come-sports bar, who specialise in - you guessed it - ribs. I ordered the smallest platter of ribs they had on the menu, and despite asking for coleslaw (no salads!) got beans, which I eyed suspiciously and only tried one bean after I was done with my ribs. I'm glad I didn't try a forkful - they were as expected, overly sweet and mushy; not what I like in my beans. I did get a few stares from the other patrons - I guess they're not used to seeing people dining on their own - but I was quite content chatting with the very helpful and friendly waitress who was cute as a button and very eager to please. She was actually meant to be working behind the bar, but because the server in my section was useless, she took pity on me and came to get my order, and then kept popping back over to me to make sure 'y'alright honey?'. Subsequently, she got a far greater tip than I would've given for 'normal' service.

I'm loving the Southern friendliness - and I'm aware I haven't hit the 'deep south' just yet. People here let you into their lane in traffic without any finger salutes or honking or crazy aggressive behaviour - and when you wave to say 'thank you' they eagerly smile and wave back! How refreshing! I'm slowly getting used to random strangers calling me 'hon' 'honey' 'darlin' (you get the idea) when we bump into each other on the street or at the cash register. It's got a lovely warming feel to it, and I'm not finding it contrived or offensive at all.

Today (Wednesday) I got up early (am on track with my early to bed early to rise plan!) and went straight to Grand Ole Opry.. to find it closed. Not feeling like sitting in the rising heat in a car park for 45 minutes, I headed back on the interstate straight into downtown; destination - Centennial Park.

Centennial Park is an absolute delight. A large, lush parkland just left of centre of downtown, it is home to some beautiful native flora and fauna. The second I stepped out of my gorgeous little yellow car and into the park I was on sensory overload: the smell of sweet clover and cut grass made me instantly relax and enter 'happy mode'. I took far more photos of native birds and squirrels than I intended, but really, if you haven't seen a native American Blue-Jay, you really should. They are such little characters, with their jerky erratic movements, and swift food-snatching ability. I adore watching them and before I knew it, I had lost twenty minutes watching a dance between two brown birds I've not seen outside the US (I think Mr Brown Bird had done something naughty because Mrs Brown Bird was giving him what-for), and the Blue-Jay that kept swooping down and stealing peanuts a grandmother and her granddaughter were trying to dole out to encourage a squirrel. I LOVE squirrels. If I could import some home I would. Well, I mean, legally. Of course! They are so cute. SO CUTE. We had several squirrels captivating us with their "race down the tree, eyeball humans suspiciously, snatch offered peanut, race back up the tree, enthusiastically crack peanut shell, gobble peanut" routine. I tried valiantly to capture the moment with my little camera, but I'm not sure how I went, and frankly, I'm so tired currently I'm amazed I'm coherent enough to type.

The Parthenon is a sight to behold - a full scale replica of the real deal from Greece, it stands proudly in the middle of Centennial Park, and is utterly impossible to miss, or not be curious about. Nashville considers Athena its patron goddess (for reasons I did read up about whilst in the museum, but have now conveniently left my brain..) and back in the 1900's to celebrate the Centenary they had a huge Exposition, where they built all these amazing buildings not meant to last more than six months, out of plaster and timber, and one of these was the Parthenon. It houses an amazing art exhibition, as well as a museum dedicated to the Exposition itself. After the Exposition was over, the Nashvillians cried foul when there were talks of demolishing the Parthenon, and so it was rebuilt, to last this time. Inside is an impossibly large to scale replica of Athena as she stands in Greece. I will upload my photos from all these adventures most likely tomorrow, to my facebook USA album.

One thing that is just to terribly Nashville is that there is music EVERYWHERE. And I do mean everywhere! From speaker boxes built by the council that sit on the sidewalk next to crosswalks, booming melodramatic country tunes at you, to the live music scene in nearly every pub and bar in town, to the toilets - yes toilets inside restaurants. I visited the Country Music Hall of Fame and I have to say I was reluctant - I mean I'm not the biggest fan of country music, or music in general.. I do certainly enjoy music, but I'm just not one of those people who thrives on learning about the history of an artist or takes particular attention to who wrote what song using what guitar - you know? I guess my results after carefully considering the CMHoF are that if you are a music fan - then you will drool. If you like museums - then you'll be content wandering around. If you like neither - avoid. I enjoyed my hour in there, but I did skip over a few exhibits I'll admit, because to my untrained ear it all began to sound the same. I was also growing increasingly thirsty for a beer and some real live country music - so I headed back up 5th Ave and found myself back at Tootsie's - this time, I went inside decisively, and asked the bartender what she would recommend that was local - and away I went. I drank one beer and thoroughly enjoyed both the beer and the live band playing both originals and covers. Mel would've been in heaven - they did a cover of Cash's "Ring of Fire", and were very, very good.

I visited many other stores and walked for virtually six hours non-stop, so by the time I started heading back to my hotel I was in desperate need of new, comfy shoes. Enter "Opry Mill" - a monster of an outlet mall. I saw The Gap having a clearance sale and could barely contain myself. A couple of hours later and my feet were pretty much ready to fall off my ankles and leave in a huff, so I settled in at Claim Jumper to organise my dinner before kissing Nashville goodbye and goodnight for good. After the healthiest dinner I could identify, I headed home, sore, tired, sweaty, but full and happy.

I've spent the night sitting out on my porch, watching the fireflies (aka lightning bugs) and enjoying the balmy night breeze, drinking a 1pint can of Dos Equis XX (it looks enormous). My neighbour, Ronnie, walked past with his two mini daschunds, and I was initially very wary, but when I realised he was just walking the dogs and having a cigarette, I gave in to the inevitable question that follows after I've opened my mouth to say hello back. Americans really are fascinated by Australians! Ronnie is working up here temporarily, earning good dosh he sends home to his wife every week, and has two of their mini daschunds for company (home is Pensacola, Florida), and is a self-confessed redneck. That outright confession made me laugh, and after giving "Bella" and "Little Bit" an affectionate pat, I turned in for the evening. No matter how lovely and seemingly harmless someone is, I'm still aware I'm a woman travelling alone, and I have no desire to invite trouble. It's a sad world we live in when two travellers can't just have a chat (or maybe we could've, I don't know, but ten minutes while I finished my cigarette was enough for me) but that's the way it is I guess.

One last thing - I did promise myself I would investigate buying a pair of mid-calf genuine cowboy boots after seeing so many gorgeous boots today, and I did. Upon finding the decent quality ones were in the vicinity of $500, I wrinkled my nose and sighed resignedly and left the store. I'd rather buy 10 more pairs of shoes!

I hope you're all well - feel free to send me an email and update me with your shenanigans, I miss hearing about them.

Chat in a few days,
M x