The final Greyhound bus ride was a very easy one. The bus seemed to be only going from Kansas City to St Louis, an early afternoon start coupled with just over four hours on the bus made it a breeze by comparison to some of the journeys I had taken. The ice and frost had all gone too, so although not warm at least it wasn’t freezing anymore. This bus journey was most definitely the only incident free journey of them all, no babies, no convicts, no teeth brushing, no people being left behind. It was almost a delight.


Arriving at the bus station in St Louis I was met by Brenda, Peggy and Jake, Peggy’s partner, and whisked off for dinner at a location near to where they live. It was just about a year since we had seen each other and there was an awful lot of family stuff to catch up on. The most important thing for me was to have some quality time with both Brenda and Peggy, because last years visit was under very sad circumstances and there was no real time to get to know the girls.


I have talked before about how important family is to me, before my trip here last year, I was in St Louis only once, and it was a very long time ago, when my cousins were quite young and I spent a most of my time with Ásgeir, the eldest of my cousins, who showed me all around St Louis and took me into the iconic Gateway Arch and water skiing. Sadly we lost him in 2006. The four younger cousins don’t even remember my visit. Last year when I was here I didn’t meet Emil, as he was working on a cruise ship and as I mentioned when in LA during the first part of my adventure, we lost him too. So it seems we were never destined to meet as adults.


So a great evening out and back home for another glass of wine or two and off to bed. But I must here mention the dogs, two boxers, very amiable, a boy and a girl. I think after all the dogs I have met on my travels both domestic and wild, I can honestly say that I have got over my fear of dogs.


The following day Peggy and Jake had to go and visit Jake’s recently widowed mother and Brenda had the day off work, so we went for a walk. We went to a park called the Cliff Cave park on the banks of the Mississippi River. We elected to do the short circuit rather than the long circuit, which would probably have been too muddy, but we did the circuit a couple of times to get 4 kms in. Once home we had a lovely dinner cooked by Peggy.

Back home Peggy made us a delicious chicken curry, not just any old chicken curry, this was to a recipe that both of our Mothers used. I think I have it in my Icelandic cookbook, and I am definitely going to have to start making it. I had forgotten just how good it is.


The following day Brenda wasn’t working so we went back to the Jefferson Barracks park and did that walk again, this time we were lucky enough to see some deer, not just in the wooded area but at one point almost in the open. They are obviously used to humans being around that they are not particularly phased by them.

Brenda and I also went to visit my cousin Ásgeir’s grave in the Jefferson Barracks Cemetery. I was staggered by the size of the cemetery as we drove past it the day before. being in the area we had seen a number of funerals en route to the cemetery and whilst we were there that day there were at least two funerals happening. Anyone who served in any capacity in any war has the right to be buried there and it costs the family nothing. There is a huge deference to serving soldiers in the USA, for example when you get on a plane, they are allowed to board earlier than economy passengers. Then you see the size of this cemetery, I found it quite overwhelming. You go to a computer terminal and enter the name of the person you are looking for and it give you a print out with a map and and the location letter and number of the grave. So we did this and then set off, but the place is so big and the writing on the map so tiny that it’s a real challenge, but we got there in the end. Getting out though was a completely different matter, I think we went around in circles at least twice. It was very funny. Brenda was saying why aren’t there any exit signs? Quite right too, onlly when you start to be in the proximity of the exit do you find signs.

Brenda and I had also booked to go and have our hair done together on her day off, which was fun. It was a very old fashioned salon and her usual man wasn’t around, so we had two ladies and we had quite a laugh. They did a really good job and I felt quite glamorous once again. That night we went out for dinner to a local place and I made the mistake of having the Monday special which was grilled prawns. I almost asked are they breaded, but decided it wasn’t in the description so I was sure it would be ok. They were breaded, such a disappointment, I just don’t understand why they have to bread everything, anyway moving swiftly on.


The following day Peggy had the day off and we had a very lazy morning and in the afternoon we went to the Nail Salon for a manicure and pedicure. So now I was feeling much better about myself I have to say. We went out for dinner again that night to a place a bit further out, and we three ladies all chose a spaghetti and seafood dish, which was absolutely delicious. I think it was the only meal I had eaten in the US where I actually managed to eat the lot, it was simply too good to leave.


Then it was over, I had a very early start the following day, 5:30 the taxi driver from across the road was coming to pick me up to take me to the airport for my flight to Philadelphia. The whistle stop tour was over as the next destination was my final stop and I was going to be there for over two weeks. In retrospect I think I should have taken a month for these four stops, to do them real justice, but the timetable was the timetable, I could have easily stayed another month in Bali too, and I didn’t do the North of Australia. Maybe I should have gone for a year.... oh well it is what it is. Thanks for having me ladies and Jake, it’s been great to spend a bit of quality time together. Hope to see you in the not too distant future.

Once again my bus wasn’t too full and I had to change after about an hour. Whilst waiting for the second bus in Little Rock I noticed we had two ex convicts in the waiting room together with a correctional facility officer, waiting to be boarded onto the bus. Both were ill prepared for the cold that was going to meet us later on that day, one wearing a short sleeve t shirt and the other a long sleeved cotton shirt. Both holding a brown paper bag which I presumed was holding their meagre belongings.


This time it wasn’t a Greyhound bus, and it wasn’t properly announced, I just noticed people had suddenly moved towards a door, so I followed and found that it was my bus. When I boarded I saw a very small child, just over a year old in his baby chair on the front seat. It turned out it was the drivers baby. All was well for a while, then the little boy started to get really distressed. He wouldn’t stop crying and one of the women on the bus tried to help, but couldn’t soothe him. Eventually the driver took him on his knee and that quietened him, and he continued to drive like that for some time. Another woman then offered to put him back in his seat and as she did he started crying again. So back to his father he goes. After the next stop he was settled into his seat and was as good as gold for the rest of the day. I am sure I don’t have to tell you all the things which were going through my mind during that trip. It transpired he had asked for the time off as he had no child care that day, but they couldn’t give him the time off so he brought the baby. There were two legs to the drivers journey Kansas City to Little Rock and back, with the baby. Nightmare.


Anyway I arrived into Kansas City and snow, yes snow. I was hoping that by the time I did my return journey across the USA spring would have sprung so to speak, little did I know what an awful winter this was going to be for so many. Whilst I was lucky enough to be in the sun for most of it I am still not happy that I am having to put up with this. Fortunately I have enough bits and pieces to keep myself reasonably warm, including an Icelandic wool hat, and a waterproof jacket, so I am able to layer up, but I only have trainers and sandals. Doesn’t look like I will be able to dress up much if the weather carries on like this. I’ll be wearing jeans and jeans of and jeans. Oh well.


I few photos of the journey, difficult to take through the bus window, but you get the idea. The lorries, or should I say trucks are very very long. There was quite a lot of water on the way, it looked like fields were waterlogged.

Janie was out at work, but when she got home she made us a great steak dinner, and we had another great evening together. These times connecting with my family are so precious to me, I just can’t tell you how much, having suffered so many losses over the last few years as a family and being spread so far apart, it is time to close these gaps.


The following day we had a busy morning sorting one or two things out and chatting and then Janie was home early, so we had lunch and then we all went to the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art. I had been missing my art fixes, the last one was in Perth, so it was much needed.


It’s a huge museum and has some interesting shuttlecocks in the grounds, huge shuttlecocks plus a couple of great sculptures of crowds of people on outside too and a great sort of water feature, looks like a big lake. There were a couple of special exhibitions on, the one we made it into was the Picasso, which not only showcased some of his work, but also some of his own art collection which had been an influence on his work. There were a lot of African pieces, it was curated in a way demonstrated the influences, so an African piece by a Picasso. His range of work is huge, I have see some really different art works whilst travelling, from beautiful sketches, amazing sculptures, classic work and some of the works he is better know for. This particular exhibition is only being shown at this gallery in the states and in France I think, so I was really lucky to see it.

Some of the Picasso below

Another special mention will have to go to a beautiful wood carving which took a year to restore, we were all a little spell bound by it, it was very intricate, I can’t imagine how long that took to make.

Tennessee is such a wonderful name, I don’t know why, it just sort of rolls off the tongue. My journey to Memphis was by Greyhound bus, and after my earlier experiences on the bus, I really was not looking forward to it, but I am very much in countdown mode now, only three more bus journeys to go, after this one, one long one and a very short one, so I keep telling myself I can cope.


I got to the bus station by Uber, I had managed to grab a quick bite at the hotel, and then was whisked away in my chariot, saying goodbye to the lovely city of New Orleans. I just wished I had had more time to really get to know it better. Maybe one day I will come back, who knows. I got to the bus station in good time to get my bag tagged etc, and got in the queue. The first part of the journey was to Baton Rouge, and only about an hour and a half so not too bad, and the bus was quite full, but I got myself settled in and before very long was in the waiting room at Baton Rouge waiting for my connection. The next bus was virtually empty, what a difference it makes when the bus isn’t crammed full of people.


However it was a little scary getting onto the second bus, I had noticed two police officers standing near the ticket office, and just before boarding I noticed one of them had put blue plastic gloves on! As we boarded they approached the queue and were watching everyone. Once aboard they too boarded the bus and reminded everyone that it was a federal offence to carry any weapons on a bus and also mentioned that drugs were also forbidden. Then they said they wanted to search our bags and interview us and we might need to provide identification. Good job I am a good girl. My bags were both searched and all was good. I did find the whole thing a little disconcerting, it was as though they had had some sort of tip off, but no one was arrested or turfed off the bus.


After that excitement the journey was mainly uneventful. Just quite long. I arrived at Memphis and my host had offered to pick me up at the station, which was extremely kind. A great lady called Heidi, who loves travelling and has a very old VW Camper. Her house was fab, very eclectic and my room was extremely comfortable. I was starving so we ordered chinese food and sat chatting in the kitchen for an hour or so. One of those times when you just click. Fairly early night as tomorrow’s plan was Graceland and possibly the civil rights museum which was highly recommended. Then going to Beale Street for some blues with Heidi in the evening.


Arriving at Graceland was a bit strange, all the local businesses were named after Graceland, which was quite amusing and then we pulled into the entrance way, which is actually across the road from the house which is Graceland, although you don’t realise that at the time. His two planes are right there at the entrance and of course you can to pay to see them, but I had been advised not to bother with the planes.

So I make my way to the main entrance, and pay my fee to get in, and then we are all shepherded into a little cinema to watch a film. From there they move us outside to catch a little bus across the road to Graceland itself, and we are given headsets and iPads to hang around our necks. Very chic! NOT. They also took out photographs and later tried to charge almost 40 dollars, no thank you. It was horrid. We were instructed on what to do with the iPads, but to be honest they were a bit of a pain, whilst they gave you a commentary, they often moved on to the next room before you were able to so I was constantly forward and back to get to where I needed to be, the iPad that is not the house. Although there were not many of us on the bus, there was a VIP tour being taken around and of course we were not allowed to be near them, so it was a bit painful looking around the house. The grounds were easier though. The house was a bit of a mish mash of styles, and of course quite outdated, given that Elvis died in 1977 and in some places it was most definitely over the top.


It is quite a big house, but not as big as people imagine it is going to be, the front entrance is into quite a nice hallway, and there are some customised stained glass pieces in the window around the door.

There was also an area related to his time in the army, and a whole setting of Sun records. By the time I got there I had started to fade a little, it would have been good to have seats in each area because it was set up well with a film running of what happened in each room, but I couldn’t stand and watch each of those, even though I would have liked too. I finally made it out of there and into the cafe set up like a 60s place, for lunch and to rest my weary feet.


The place was really quite empty, but I had come early in the morning, but still I was surprised by how few people seemed to be there. The other thing that I really struck me about the visit was that there was no talk of the bad times, only the good. I think his story should be told in full, they way they talk about the marriage and everything it’s as though it went on forever. As we all know he died of some sort of drug overdose, and was addicted to prescription drugs. My Uber driver on the way back to my Air BNB said he went to school with the daughter of the doctor who gave him his drugs, small world. My question is why are we not telling the world of the addiction, in this day and age when the drug scene is much bigger and we are losing so many young people especially in America, why aren’t we telling these stories as they were instead of sugar coating the reality. That doesn’t mean I was not glad to go and see the place, but I just feel we should be telling people particularly our young people the truth and not just idolising those who have been lost to drug abuse. I felt myself coming away with more questions because it was a long time ago and I couldn’t remember. I do have one more thing to say though, he was such a good looking young man!




I decided that the civil rights museum would be too much, so had a rest and caught up with a bit of writing. That evening Heidi and I went out to Beale Street, she is a big blues fan and chose to live in Memphis partly because of that. Unfortunately for us it was some sort of public holiday so none of the usual bands were on, so we finally found somewhere to listen to a set having walked the length and back of Beale Street. I had another early start the next day, so back to the house and in bed at a reasonable hour.

I was quite hungry by now, but it was a getting on in the evening so rather than look on the internet or just go wandering off I went back to reception to ask where I could get some good simple food. She told me about a place called the Clover Grill which was about two blocks away. So I followed her directions but when I got there I saw a hamburger joint and that was the last thing I wanted to eat. It was on Bourbon Street which was alive with people wandering around drinks in hand, I started to wander down there in the hope I would find a little restaurant but soon realised it was all bars, one guy asked me twice if I would like to buy him a drink, I said no thanks, I am ok thanks, and made my way back to the Grill, took a deep breath, went inside and sat at the counter. I ordered a burger with mushrooms, lettuce, tomato, mayo but no cheese or chips, and a cranberry juice. Yes I did say cranberry juice, there was no alcohol available. The burger was absolutely delicious, probably the best burger I have every had in my life. I admittedly don’t eat many so I am probably not that good a judge, but I enjoyed every mouthful.


Back to my suite and hoping for a decent nights sleep. The 14 hour time change really wasn’t helping me at all. I had a pretty broken night to be honest, I was really all over the place, but I got up early for breakfast, and tasted my first biscuits, which are really scones. But I passed on the grits which looked quite bland. Then back to my shelter and I was just so tired that I had to just rest. Finally about two pm I ventured out, I found the Armstrong park which I had seen on the bus coming in and had a wander around there. It wasn’t an enormous place, but quite a few nice statues and sculptures.

I arrived at the meeting point to find a big queue of people, and there were three guides, and we were quickly split into groups and we set off a little early. We were told many tales of ghosts and black magic and taken to a number of houses were the events happened. One particular house had a very scary history. The woman who lived there had lost two husbands not long after her marriages and was extremely wealthy as a result. She had a lot of slaves and no one ever saw the same slave twice. She married a third time to a much younger man, and they had many parties, and one day whilst there was a party on the attic caught fire, and a lot of slaves were found in a very bad way. They had been subject to significant torture and maltreatment. She fled the house that night and the house is said to be haunted, no one has been able to live there since, despite the fact the the property has changed hands a number of times. So owners have stayed there during the day and then gone elsewhere to sleep. There was another story about a house that had eventually become a restaurant. There were always things flying around, they then decided that the ghost was unhappy and started to lay a table for him every night, and after that the haunting stopped.
The tour was a couple of hours and very enjoyable I have to say, after that I went back to the hotel via the Clover Grill for a hamburger to take back to my hotel for dinner and then much needed sleep.
The following morning I found I still wasn’t in a fit state to go out early, so I had breakfast and stayed in my room for a while and then set off to go to the Carousel Piano Bar, a recommendation by my friend Wilma, I found myself a seat and ordered a Gin cocktail and Beignets, a local speciality, they are little cake type morsels, but I had ones with crab and prawn and they were extremely yummy. I had heard that the best place to go and listen to jazz was on a street on the other side of the French Quarter, a bit of a hike from where I was, and intended going later on. I first called in at a venue to listen to some jazz piano, a soloist playing, and I was enjoying it so much I stayed for the whole set, and had something to eat, and then bread pudding, which I had been told I must try. It was so good, I was expecting it to be like bread and butter pudding from the U.K. which I am not really a great fan of, I like the egg custard but not much else about it. When I was a little girl and went to visit my Grandma and Grandpa, if Grandma made Bread and Butter pudding she always made me a separate egg custard, a very cherished memory of being spoilt. Anyway I digress, this was nothing like that. It was delicious and no doubt loaded with naughty calories but you have to try these things, I might never have a chance to try again.
I took another wander down Bourbon Street and went in a couple of places, and then decided I needed to go to bed, still struggling. The next day I was off to Kansa City so I had to get packed and be up early for the early Greyhound bus.
I think I was a bit overwhelmed by the party atmosphere, I had just missed Mardi Gras, but under the circumstances that was most likely a blessing. I also think it’s quite hard to be in a place like New Orleans on your own, I am glad I went, and wished I had had time and the energy to go to the other area for music, but I liked the town as a whole and the streets and houses in the French Quarter are so pretty. So that’s all from New Orleans, see you in Kansas City.