Southern reflections

Just back from Mobile Bay - a brief stop in Birmingham before we head west to California. So many impressions that I know I must record before they're submerged in the next batch. So here goes for a patchwork of impressions from Fairhope:

Three days of brilliant sunshine and one of leaden skies and rain that became torrential as darkness fell. And under this huge, blue sky not one solar panel to power the electric climate control systems whirring outside every house. The sound of rain drumming on blue tin roofs. Storm drains lined with unromantic concrete, reminding us that things could be less than calm. Pelicans hunched in flight and on top of piers, and tall herons stalking along the bay margins. Bright red sparrow-sized Cardinals flying across the road.

On a more human scale, the wonderfully friendly service in shops, diners, cafes - and soda fountains and soda jerks straight out of a '50s movie. And in this same drugstore the old-timers in white trainers, and the instant transformation of an unremarkable pensioner into an unmistakeable American when he put on his baseball cap. High rise condominiums and hotels along the Gulf coast, their only concession to the possiblilty of hurricanes the stilts on which they stand, and in between them the still-uncleared debris from Katrina. And in front of them a miraculously white beach, miles and miles of sand so fine that it creaks beneath the feet the way snow does. I walked on this sand in my bare feet - and paddled in the Gulf - just because it was there, really. Irresistible.

Whole malls of bleak outlet stores which make Swindon seem like a village. Vast quantities of remedies on sale for every imaginable ailment - laxatives, pain relief (no paracetamol!), blood-testing kits, crutches - a hypochondriac's paradise. Huge bottles of sauce and cold tea, but the devil's own job to find a decent coffee. (Today I found an espresso bar where the girl was incredulous that I wanted only "a shot" - and then revealed that she thought she was the only person alive who drank coffee that way)

But I have maundered enough. The photos I will add when I am home - the hunt for compatible equipment takes up too much mental energy. Today I have experienced a whole range of weather, from a walk beside Mobile Bay in the teeth of a wind that blew white horses on the waves under a leaden sky that reminded me of home, to sitting in the bright sun two hours later on the end of a pier with the towers of Mobile gleaming on the horizon, to a freezing evening in Birmingham where the temperature is 32 degrees F under a clear sky. This is a huge country, and tomorrow I shall be flying over the rest of its width.

If it's Monday it must be Santa Cruz......

Note: updated with photos now that I'm home - apologies to anyone using a feed reader!

Heading south ....

Today we leave this house in Birmingham and travel to Fairhope on the Gulf coast. As there is no computer there, I shall be silenced and deprived! However, I'm wondering if the southward migration will warm us up a bit - it's still chilly here.

Yesterday we visited Birmingham Southern College, where Ed works. We met some interesting people, including a drama teacher who is bringing a play to the Festival Fringe in August and the Professor of Organ, who delayed the lesson of a hapless freshman to talk to us and demonstrate his magnificent organ (no sniggering there!)

As we marched briskly round the perimeter of the college, I couldn't help wondering if studying in such a peaceful and attractive environment, with everything to hand and such high amenity, made for a more focussed and serene type of student - or does it encourage neurosis and introspection? The students seemed very together - and very well off, with their big cars - but perhaps the weight of repsonsibility (all these fees to be paid) plays a part.

The day ended with a party and more lovely people. At this rate they'll all be coming to the West of Scotland - I think our hosts deserve a retainer from Visit Scotland!

Rural jaunt

Yesterday had a glimpse of rural Alabama, courtesy of my hereto virtual friend Walter. (I don't think a 10 minute meeting several years ago counts against that description) I also had my first ride in a Cadillac, in which we swept through small communities with names like Leeds. Few fences, the odd dog driven to frenzies of excitement by our passing, tall forests of wonderfully mixed trees - dogwood, Scots pine, oak trees - and tiny stores and gas stations in what felt like the middle of nowhere.

The house, when we crunched up the winding gravel drive (winding to spare the dogwood trees, apparently), turned out to be a wonderful chateau in miniature, with tall shuttered windows, balconies of wrought iron, and a terrace with chairs which didn't invite in the chilly light of yesterday. The entrance hall just begged for a string quartet to play in its domed acoustics, and there was a lemon tree in a pot with the largest lemon I've ever seen ripe in the middle of it.

And then there was "the pond". If someone says "pond" to me I think of something circular, maybe 12 feet across, maybe a fountain. I do not think of a sizeable loch surrounded by forest with a boathouse just visible at the far end. This was the pond overlooked by almost every window in the house. As Walter fixed lunch (notice the creeping Arericanisms) I saw a heron - a blue heron - flap the length of the far shore, a wonderful red-headed woodpecker scuttling up a tree just outside, and the flash of the bluest blue imaginable as a bluebird swooped over the water and made me think of sopranoes singing "blue". (That's an esoteric reference for anyone who's sung with us!)

We had a wonderful day. We walked round the loch - Walter having left clues of tape to guide us among the trees - and negotiated the stepping stones over the burn. We enjoyed the best barbecued pork of my life - recipe for the crab-apple sauce, please, Walter!) and the warmest hospitality imaginable. At the end of the afternoon we were deposited back in Brimingham, a good 45 minutes' drive away. If you read this, Walter: thank you. We won't forget.

No photos, I'm afraid - I uploaded a few yesterday morning, but don't know when I'll have another chance.
Update: Photo now added to show Walter's "pond" , as well as the house.

Mocking birds at breakfast

Blethering from Birmingham, Alabama - the blethers winter tour 07? Where to start? For a start, with no photos - a lack of the necessary software makes me realise yet again why I use a Mac. Ah well. I wonder if John from Denmark, whom we met in the snazzy President's Club in Newark Airport, is reading this - because he told me all normal people use PCs. (You can see the kind of converations I end up in).

From Ruth and Ed's historic house (it has a plaque to testify to its status) we can hear the romantic hooting of the trains - I feel as if I'm in a Tennessee Willliams play or something. The road is strangely rural - broad, curving up a hill, lots of trees and shrubs. It is cold - colder than we've had it at home - but sunny and still and very dry. This morning at breakfast I saw an American robin - sort of starling-sized with a black head and a startlingly red front - and two mocking birds - mocking birds! And last night I ate one of the best meals of my life (grilled grouper from the Gulf of Mexico) and went to the ballet in town.

Right now we're organising to meet up with Lou from the Yahoo group I post on, and soon we'll be off for a visit to Ruth's church. It's all a mix of the familiar and the strange - people we know so well in a setting that is at once completely new and movie-familiar. My accent sticks out like a sore thumb, but I'm resisting the awful temptation to be a fake American.

So, enough already. I'll take the pix and post them all when I return - I may even drive anyone who reads this on RSS to drink by illustrating existing posts. But for now, 'bye, y'all - have a nice day!