WELCOME TO SMASHVILLE, TENNESSEE
After Memphis, we had worked up a solid appetite for some solid original tunes. Don’t be mislead like us and think that Nashville only caters to twang yocals in boots and Wranglers. This rockin city was chockas with trendy folk styling it up that could rival that of your Oxford Street regulars. We found ourselves a hotel amongst the action in downtown. We put away a 6 pack of Samuel Adams and headed out for a night of Honky Tonk. We met a heap of locals and had ourselves an absolute ball. We ran into a fellow crew of Aussies, one of whom is just on the cusp of supporting Keith Urban on tour ’round the globe and kicked on for a few more beers. We also came across an alleged big time oil tycoon who insisted that he fly us to his ‘home’ in Texas so that his wife could meet us and hear our accent. We had to politely decline and retired back to the room with the token planking efforts along the way. We were still full of energy when we got home so decided to SKYPE Mel and Cal and chatted until 6am (US time). We had no idea of the time until I went to turn the front light off and realized it was in fact the sun shining through! Ouch, the preceding day hurt like nobody’s business. After a couple of days in Nashville checking out the music halls of fame and a few other monumental haunts, we made our way to Kentucky, got off the beaten path and checked into a gorgeous lake front resort on Lake Cumberland. The poor livers had copped a hiding from our nonsense in the southern states so it was refreshing to chillax in the Hawkesbury like surrounds. We now felt like we’d chocked on about a gazillion kilos between us so we went on a solid hiking trail through the forest in a vain attempt to work off the past few weeks of beer fries, burgers and Budwieser. It was then dusk, which beckoned for a drink on our little balcony, overlooking the emerald green lake. The next night we still stayed on the Kentucky/Indiana border in a city called Louisville. This town in particular was very intriguing for me to explore as it was the home town of the almighty, Mohammad Ali – my father’s true hero and dedicated obsession. We went to the King of the Rings dedicated centre which was fascinating. There we learnt many a tale of this quick witted legend and enjoyed many of his artifacts on display. I was instructed by dad to try and track him down for a chat but only got as close to his mansion out of town. Sorry dad, you know what they say; if you’re going to stalk someone, you may as well just do it yourself!
WIN:
The ridiculously good music that floods the ears on Broadway. All hail the best buskers in the world!
FAIL:
To Ali’s social director: your communication breakdown is unforgivable. The King of The Ring will be very unhappy when he discovers you did not accommodate us for a one on one beer. Your bad.
theflightclub 