Meeting the natives!
On July
8th we could celebrate our
27th wedding anniversary.
We wouldn't make much ado about it though, as this would be a rather long day
in the car. We had no goal when we left New Orleans except that we would stay
the night somewhere in Georgia. The day was actually quite boring, staying on
the Interstate as we did. But the we managed to visit two Welcome Centers, one
of which was closed whe got there. From New Orleans we took I-10 to Slidell and
then I-59 north to Meridian where we changed to I-20 to Birmingham, Alabama. At
the Missippi/Alabama border we visited the Welcome Center. We did'n't enter
Birmingham but stayed on the interstate and headed for Atlanta, Georgia. When
we passed the Alabama/Georgia border it was after six pm, and the Welcome Center
had closed so we continued to and through Atlanta still on the I-20. Even
though the traffic was quite heavy, we, that is Dorte who was driving while I
navigated, managed to change to the I-85, without misplacing ourselves even once.
We continued on the I-85 leaving Atlanta behind once more, heading north east.
We reached the small town of Suwanee around 8 PM and decided to call it a day. We had been on the road for more or less 12 hours and had driven well over 500 miles. We found ourselves a hotel, and then went out to get some dinner. We didn't want to look far, so we just ate our anniversary dinner at an Outback Steakhouse, where we enjoyed a nice steak and an ice cold Australian beer. This was actually the first beer we had since St. Louis more than 10 days before.
Mistaken for Englishmen
The next day we continued on
I-85 into South
Carolina, thus visiting this state for the third time. We crossed the border
without visiting the Welcome Center continued to Greenville before we made our
first stop. It was here that we celebrated our 25th anniversary two years
earlier. We passed the hotel, where we stayed then, and also the restaurant,
where we had our anniversary dinner then, but only stopped at a gas station to refill the car (with
petrol) and the cool box (with ice). At the gas station we both went into the
store and walked around looking at the goodies, before we went to the cashiers
desk with a cup of coffee for me, and a latte for Dorte. The man behind the
counter was a young man, who must have heard us talk to each other, while in the
shop. For some reason he did not ask the usual
question: "Where are you guys from?" No, his question was of a different kind, though
the intent was the same. He simply asked if we were English! We had to
explain to him that this was not the case, and that we were from Denmark. Dorte
went into her geograhpical quizz mode and asked him, if he knew where Denmark
was - which he didn't. We told him that it was about one hours flight east of
England, but that didn't help much as he didn't know where England was either.
After some time, using different countries, we gave up on the explanation and
just told him, that Denmark was part of Scandinavia. He nodded to this as if he
knew, but his facial expression clearly showed that this didn't mean anything at
all to him. We didn't have the heart to tell him, that the language spoken in
England was very close to his own, so we just left it at that. I know that George Bernard Shaw once said that
"England and America are two countries separated by a common language",
but still...!
It was the first and only time we were taken for Englishmen in America.
However, we have often become confused with Germans or Dutchmen. In fact, at one
time we even became the subject of a bet between to locals about whether we were one or the other.
This also took place in
South Carolina by the way, where two sales girls in a peanut shop on Market Street in
Charleston, had made a bet, one claiming that we were German, the other that we
were Dutch. Unfortunately we had to disappoint both of them, so how they settled their bet, I do not know. That Danish
sound almost like
Dutch to Americans, we have heard on several occasions, and I if didn't know how Dutch
sounds,
I might start to believe it. But on the several times I've visited Holland and
the Flemish speaking part of Belgiun, I have been confirmed in my belief that Dutch is the only language in the world that
is spoken
equally well by humans and sea lions. Sorry Dutch people. I love both you and
your beautiful country.
After the experience at the
gas station, we continued towards the North Carolina border. You guessed it, we took the opportunity to visit a welcome
center. At Charlotte, North Carolina's largest city, we changed to to Interstate Highway
77 north. It was around lunch time and we were a bit hungry, but none of the
places we passed really appealed to us. When we reached the town of
Statesville, hunger however plagued us seriously, so at this time we weren't
so picky. We left the interstate and found - of all places - a Waffle House.
Tourists were apparently rather unusal here, and the two waitresses were busy chatting with
some locals, and it took some time before they found time to serve us. When we ordered
only a salad, they looked at us as if we had escaped from a mental hospital.
Apparently nobody there ever ate lunch without ordering meat. But in the
end, we both got a very nice salad, and we had nice conversation with the
waitresses when the locals left the place. Unfortunately we didn't understand much of their
southern dialect, and they didn't understand much of we said either, but we all
smiled a lot :-).
Anyone who has read these
pages, will have discovered that I have a weakness for the Tom Dooley story. And
if you didn't know before, you will know from my
Dooley pages,
that Tom was finally convicted and executed in Statesville, North
Carolina. I would therefore like to
visit the city's visitor center to see if I could learn more about the
story that (at this point I was just beginning to get a real interest in. The visitor
center proved to be located in the old, now disused railway station from 1911.
At this point, I knew that Tom Dooley had just been hanged in a field near the
railway station and the nice lady at the Visitor Center told me that the old
railway station and the field had been on the other side of the tracks, and she
with pleasure identified the place where the gallows had stood.
I took some pictures of the execution site and the new (old) railway station,
but as I had still not gotten quite used to the new camera that I bought in New
Orleans the pictures came out rather bad. From Statesville we continued north to
Union Grove where we had booked a room at a B&B named Madelyn's in
the Grove. When we arrived, if was just before three pm, and our room wouldn't
be ready until 4 pm. We therefore decided to drive to Wilkesboro, where Tom Dooley was imprisoned shortly after his
arrest. The old prison from the 1850s still exists and is now a museum that I
wanted to visit.
Unfortunately we didn't locate it at that time, and went back to Union Grove.
Friendly winegrowers in Swan Creek
When we arrived at our B & B just before
4 pm, we were greeted by Madelyn herself, who started out with regret that we
unfortunately could not get the room we had booked from home as the air conditioner
was broken. In return, she had another room that she wanted to show us, and it
certainly was nice too, so we got that instead. But before we got any further, she asked us what we
would be doing for the rest of the day? We had planned to relax in the room for
a few hours, but when she suggested we went on a "wine tour", we
accepted immediately. Madelyn believed that most of the local wineries probably closed around
5 pm, and as it was now around 4.10 she thought that if we hurried, we could
manage to visit three before they closed. She drew a map and explained
the fastest way to the first winery, from here to the next and from there to the
third. Just before we were about to leave, she asked
where we were going to have dinner. Since we did not know the town or the
surroundings, we hadn't really considered a place to eat in advance. Union Grove
has about 2,000 inhabitants, so it's not the big city, so I had an idea that we were
going to either Statesville or Wilkesboro for dinner. Madelyn told us, however,
that if we
would like to try a good southern rural diet, she knew just the place. When we
confirmed this , she wrote down directions from the final winery to this very
nice place, as she put it.
Without unpacking the car we took off, and using a map and Madelyn's
handwritten route plan we found the first winery without too much trouble. Windy Gap
was the name, and I think it has been closed down since then. A young lady
received us in the tasting room, and when we told her that Madelyn had
sent us and that we wanted to taste their wines, but didn't have as much
time as we had to visit two more places before 5 pm. "Don't think about it", she said, and grabbed the phone and called the other
two wineries that Madelyn had recommended. Shortly after, she could tell
us that both places were now aware that we would come, so they would simply stay open
until we arrived. See, that is what I call god service.
We tasted some real good wines there and bought ourself a bottle of viognier to
take back home. From Windy Gap we then hurried
on towards the next winery, Raffaldini. Both Windy Gap, Raffaldini and the last
winery we visited, are located in the area of the Yadkin River Valley known
as Swan Creek, and the wine here was said to be somewhat different than the
rest of the valley. After our visit but maybe not because of it, Swan Creek has become an
American Vitcultural Area (AVA) of its own.
Madelyn had told us that the place where Raffaldinis
was located, had a view that looked
like Italy, and she was quite right. It actually look lie something out of
Tuscanny.The Raffaldini family was of Italian descent and orginially came from Lombardy, where they
had grown and made wine since 1348, according to the flyer we got there. We chatted
for a while with the owner, and before we left, he got our e-mail address. Since
then we have received their monthly newsletter from the wine division, often with an invitation to attend concerts
or the like. We have not yet had the
opportunity to participate in any of these events though.
Since we had one more place to visit, we had to say goodbye to the Raffaldinis.
We admired the view once again and then we
were off to Laurel Gray, who was to be the last stop on today's wine tour. If
the people were nice at Windy Gap and Raffaldini, they were unbeatable at Laurel
Gray. The owner and winemaker herself, Kim Myers, waited on us. It
was now almost 6.30, so they should have closed more an hour earlier, yet we were
greeted like we were long lost family, who came to visit. We tasted the wine, and
Kim
told us about herself and her family who had lived in the area for 10
generations. She had been in the advertising industry and her husband in the
tobacco industry, but now they made wine - and an excellent wine as well. The winery
was named after her two children, her daughter Laurel and her son Gray, and has
existed since 2000, so it was fairly new when we visited them in 2004. Here we
bought a Viognier and a sweet red wine whose name I've forgot. But it was excellent
as an aperitif. Kim also sold homemade bread, but as it would be difficult to
keep it fresh until we reached Denmark, we didn't buy any.
After the tasting we were introduced to Kim's husband, Benny, her sister and a friend who was visiting, and while we chatted with them, another local came around, and so we chatted with all of them. All in all a really nice winery, which I would recommend to anyone who passes the area. We also promised to come back some day, and hopefully I will in the summer of 2012. But for now it was time to get some dinner.
Dining with the locals
The place we were looking
for were called Gaby's Diner (today The Korner Kitchen) ,
and it was in the middle of nowhere according to Madelyn, and could be rather
difficult to locate and to recognize when we found it. Madelyn had warned us
that we could easily pass the place without noticing that it was a diner. And she
was absolutely right, her directions led us to the place with no difficulties at
all. When we got there 8 or 10 pick-up trucks, one SUV and a small sports car
was parked outside. All had North
Carolina license plates, so it did not suggest that the place was overrun by
tourists. Our car had Virginia plates, so we were completely out of order,
so to speak. We were a little unsure if the place was something for us, but finally
we entered the place. When we got inside we found that the place was not much
bigger inside than it looked from the outside. 8-10 tables with seating for four at each
table and a slightly larger table with seating for 8. All tables were apparently
occupied, and
when we asked the hostess for a table, she looked desperately around the room
for a place to offer us. A guy at a table right next to the larger table,
sat alone with a young man and the man yelled to the waitress that we were
welcome to sit at their table. The waitress asked if we would like that, and we
did.
On
our way to the table, we noticed that the preferred attire for both men
and women were jeans, cowboy boots, T-shirts and baseball caps (like us except
for the boots and caps). Some, however, was
wearing overalls, and the guy who invited us down to the table, was dressed in a chore shirt, not
a
T-shirt. At the larger table the guest were a bit more dressed up. At this table we also
noticed the only child in the restaurant, a girl about 10
years old. When we were seated one of
the women from the larger table asked us if we were from Scandinavia, which we
could confirm. The lady, whose name we never got, told us that they had visitors from
Sweden - actually one of the other women and the little girl. This of course
meant that we had a nice conversation with them. Primarily in
English, but the little girl was so happy that there finally was someone who
could understand her, that we talked a bit in Danish/Swedish with her. When
the waitress gave us the menu, we discussed what to eat, and when the woman who had first approached us, heard that we would order catfish,
she warned us that the catfish was not particularly good that day, so she
suggested that we ordered flounder instead, which we did.
When the food arrived, we had found out that the party at the next table were Methodists. Each year apparently a joint Scandinavian/American camp for young Methodists is arranged . It alternates between being held in the U.S. and in Scandinavia, and this year it was in North Carolina. The Swedish lady was a leader of the Swedish children at the camp, and she was staying in the home ofd the woman that had started the conversation with us until the camp actually opened. That evening they were going to a blue grass fgestival in Union Grove, across the road from Madelyn's where we stayed. When our food arrived, they had to leave for the festival.
When the waitress brought our food, it was rather large plates. On each there was two very large pieces of fish, some fries, some cooked vegetables, including beans and corn cobs, and then some strange, seemingly deep-fried "cannon balls", about the size of a table tennis ball. We wondered what it was, when the man who had originally invited us to sit at the table, asked us if we had never seen hush-puppies before? When we told him that we had not, he explained that it was deep-fried balls of corn dough with various spices. Originally they were made for the dogs as an inexpensive treat, but now it had become a southern specialty, and were often eaten with fish.
The talk about the hush-puppies had established contact with the man at the table,
who presented himself as Chris. And likewise we presented ourselves. Chris told
us that the young man at the table was his nephew but I don't remember his name.
Chris asked if we wanted to visit his house and dine with him thenext day. Then he would serve
deep-fried strips of "redfish" and turkey cooked cajun style. Unfortunately we
had to fold, as the next day we were going north, but we agreed so that it
would have to wait until next time we passed through this remote part of North Carolina. We
haven't been there since then, but Tim and I will in the summer of 2012, so
maybe the invitation is still open? Chris told us that he was
employed by Freightliner. Moreover, he took care of his farm, and in his spare
time he volunteered as a fireman and so did his nephew. Chris told that his not
so talkative nephew had just gotten his hunting license, which led to a long
talk about nature in general and hunting in particular, and he wanted to know if
we went hunting in Denmark. We had to disappoint him that some did, but not us. He then told that where HE came from
everybody went
hunting. Furthermore, there was no one who did not own at least one firearm. We
explained a little about the Firearms Act in Denmark that prevented people in
general from owning a weapon. He didn't quite understand, that we were not
allowed a gun for some target practise og skeet or something? Only when we told
him that Dorte had been shooting pistol for some years in a shooting club, he
stopped looking nervously at the two extremely strange foreigners. Then
our chat continued on more innocent topics, such as the stunning beautiful Blue Ridge
Mountains, where he wanted to show us a great place, with the most amazing views,
but as with the dinner, we had to decline.
Finally, we talked a little about cars, and we told that at home had just a single car, and
what we had paid for it. If our lack of firearms hadn't shaken him, he was certainly
shaken now and he told us, that as he mostly used his Harley Davidson
motorcycle, he only had two cars. As it turned out he used the word
cars for exactly that, not for vehicles in general, for he went on to mention he also
owned a truck and a tractor.
And then two 4x4s and a pickup truck, which he used occasionally. Furthermore, we were
informed that he had no children, but that he spend a lot of time with his nephew.
Finally we had to break up to return to Madelyn's in spite of the pleasant
company, so we exchanged addresses, and just when we were about to leave, Chris'
sister and father entered the restaurant, so we had to meet them as well. Unlike
many
others, his sister actually knew where
Denmark was. We chatted with them for a while, and we promised to visit them the next time we
came by. A promise we have not yet been able to keep. When we finally left Gaby's Diner,
a lot of the customers said
goodbye to us, because most had followed our talk
with both the Methodists
and with Chris and his nephew.
Finally we managed to get to say goodbye to everyone and pay for our food,
which totaled just under $ 20. The food was maybe not a gastronomic challenge,
but it was plentiful and tasted good, and it was a very reasonable price. This
was by far the most entertaining and enjoyable meetings with the natives on all our trips
to USA so far.
When we got back to Madelyn's we carried our luggage from the car to the room, and then I went for a walk to look at the surroundings, and in doing so I passed the spot where the bluegrass festival took place, but I did not enter. Meanwhile Dorte relaxed and digested the day's impressions on a bed so filled with pillows, mattresses and featherbeds, that made her look like the princess in "The Princess and the Pea" from the old Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale.
Leaving North Carolina
Next day, we
were heading north to Virginia, but let me just
dwell a little more by out stay at Madelyn's.
Madelyn's was located in a very nice house, built in 1934, and had five guest
rooms. Back home, we had booked The Garden Room, not because we had any
particular preferences, but the picture on the Internet looked very nice, but
unfortunately the airconditioner had broken down as mentioned above, so we
couldn't get that room. Instead we got The "Aunt Propst Room", which was
certainly not less cozy. The room was named after Madelyn great aunt Clarissa.
How the name "Aunt Propst" came into the picture, we never found out, but a picture of the
lady hung on the wall beside the bed from where she kept an eye on what we did at
night. Which we did :-).
When we returned from after our little tour of the local sights, Madelyn
asked us when we would like to have breakfast and decided on 08.30. So we woke
around 7, and after bathing, etc. we carried our luggage to the car so we were ready to
go right after breakfast. We had
to drive around 400 miles, and we would like to see a few things along the way.
Breakfast turned out to be even better than we had expected. Actually it was
quite overwhelming compared to the one
we had at the various hotels and motels. We started with a great deal of fresh
fruit with sorbet ice. Then followed scrambled eggs and fried sausage with hash
browns, muffins, and finally freshly baked wafers with banana and jam. Moreover, lots of coffee, juice and
ice water, so we agreed that we probably would not need lunch. While we ate,
we had a nice chat with Madelyn and her husband, John, about Denmark, USA, immigrants, crime in rural areas versus cities, ours and their children, etc.
It was really nice, and it was past 10.30 before we finally left.