Except it was the wrong highway. A miscommunication in directions cost us about an hour, but we both agreed it was best that something like this happened at the beginning rather than deep into our tight road tripping schedule.
After a long eight-hour drive down through a whole lot of nothing in Illinois (surrounded by all of the fields, I felt like I was in the middle of the movie “Twister” and a tornado would come out of nowhere and get us), Missouri (you can imagine our excitement when we finally crossed into a new state) and Arkansas (thank goodness for the state’s 70 m.p.h. limit)—we finally reached Memphis around 10:30ish. We checked into the hotel, dropped our bags and hopped in the hotel’s shuttle to Beale Street.
When we got to Beale Street (Memphis’s smaller scale
version of Bourbon Street) we hit up the first BBQ joint we found. Except for a few snacks, we hadn’t eaten in hours and were starving. All I wanted to do was have BBQ in Memphis and we got it. The half-rack of ribs really fell off the bone—it was easier to eat it with a fork than your fingers.After some fine dining at Blues City Cafe, we found Silky O’Sullivan’s, a dueling piano bar famous for its gallon-sized bucket drinks. We severely overestimated our abilities to drink it, and maybe underestimated how much alcohol really was in that bucket. Unfortunately, we were so tir
ed and full that we had to leave some behind (which nearly made Ally cry… she hates this form of alcohol abuse).We hitched a ride on the trolley back to the hotel, which was a really cool experience. As the old-school trolley cruised down the street, we were able to catch a taste of Memphis at night as a nice bonus. And it only cost $1!
We finally made it back to the hotel and just passed out. We had plans to wake up early and head on our way to New Orleans!
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