A must see in Memphis is the National Civil Rights Museum. It is a particularly poignant place, as it is attached to the Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. Make sure you give yourself plenty of time because there is a lot to see. The endless tales of courage in the face of brutal racism are both inspiring and overwhelming.
The wreath marks the spot where Dr. King was shot.
Here is a photo of Dr. King standing in the exact spot, the day before his assassination. He is second from the right.
And here is the famous photograph taken shortly after the assassination, with bystanders pointing to where the shots had come from.
The room where Dr. King stayed on his last night has been kept just as it was on the morning of the assassination.
From the sublime to the ridiculous, we visited one of Memphis’s lesser known tourist attractions, the massive Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World. We think that it may be the only outdoor goods store built inside a pyramid, and certainly the only one with live alligators.
Arriving in Memphis in the early afternoon, having driven up from Clarksdale, we booked into our hotel and walked a few blocks down to Beale Street in search of a late lunch. Officially recognized as “The Home of the Blues” by an Act of Congress, Beale Street includes a two block stretch of restaurants and bars that is now a big tourist attraction. The streets heyday was from the 1920s through the 1940s, when it regularly attracted some of the country’s biggest blues and jazz musicians. Unfortunately, in the 1970s and 1980s, a disastrous urban renewal program razed blocks of buildings in the surrounding neighborhood, as well as on the street itself. Even now, the surrounding area is nothing to write home about. Finding food that was not either barbecued or fried appeared impossible, so we headed into a bar for a lunch that made up in quantity for what it lacked in quality.
Although we didn’t catch any blues of jazz in the Beale Street clubs, we did enjoy a live jazz show while we were in town. Because, in the evening we took a picnic dinner and joined the throngs at Overton Park for a Big Band concert. It was a beautiful evening, and a great way to end up the day.
We spent the morning walking around Clarksdale, where we were once again struck by how many great murals there are throughout the town.
One of the town’s main draws is the Ground Zero Blues Club that is co-owned by Morgan Freeman, the famous actor. It gets its name from the fact that Clarksdale has, historically, been referred to as “Ground Zero” for the blues. While we were in Clarksdale, it was celebrating its twenty second anniversary so we decided to drop in and enjoy some southern cooking with a side of blues. We were pleased to see the New Zealand flag hanging in a prominent position.
Then it was back to the AirBnB to get dressed for the main event, Joe and Alena’s wedding. We settled in with a drink and waited for the festivities to begin, while Joe and Jake, who was one of the groomsmen, looked over the waiting crowd from a balcony.
But soon, Joe was being led down the aisle by his two very proud moms.
Followed closely by Alena and her equally proud parents.
After a beautiful ceremony and some heartfelt vows, the couple danced back up the aisle toward what we hope will be a long happy life together.
Before the party, there was just enough time to take some family photos.
And then on to the party and a slightly less posed family photo.
And thus ended our interesting and fun time in Clarksdale. Thanks Abbe, Sally, Joe and Alena for including our family in this joyful event. We love you guys!
None of us had ever been to Arkansas, so we decided to take a drive across the Mississippi to nearby Helena. We thought that we would find it hard to find a town more down on its luck than Clarksdale, but we were wrong. Many of Helena’s buildings were shuttered and dilapidated. There were only a handful of restaurants and stores left. Oddly enough, one of the stores still open was a high end furnishings store. We couldn’t imagine how it managed to survive.
We dropped by the Delta Cultural Center. Like Clarksdale, Helena is steeped in the Blues. In fact, it is the home of King Biscuit Time, not only the longest-running blues radio program in the United States, but also the longest-running daily radio broadcast, period. Its first broadcast was on November 21, 1941 and featured blues legend, Sonny Boy Williams. Today, it is broadcast each weekday from KFFA and its studio is in the Cultural Center. We had a chat with the DJ and then sat back to enjoy some of the show.
Clarksdale is a small town in the heart of the Mississippi delta. We were there to celebrate the wedding of Joe, a dear friend of our family. The town has been in decline for much of the twentieth and twenty first centuries. Particularly devastating was the invention in the 1940s of automated cotton picking machinery. Many of the town’s black population who worked at sharecroppers immediately lost their means of support and joined the Great Migration north to St. Louis and Chicago. Those that remained faced brutal racism and the town played an important role in the Civil Rights movement. Martin Luther King, Jr. visited the town a number of times, most notably in 1958 when he attended the first major meeting of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC). Another prominent Civil Rights leader, Aaron Henry, worked in the town as a pharmacist. In 1960, he was named state president of the NAACP, and went on to organize a two-year-long boycott of Clarksdale businesses that discriminated against black customers and employees.
Interestingly, the town was once also home to one of the largest Jewish populations in the state, but they also began to leave as the town declined. The Beth Israel Synagogue that the built in the 1930s remains, but is now an AirBnB.
Today, the town’s economy depends primarily on tourism generated by its claim as the home of the Delta Blues. Many famous black musicians came from the town and its surroundings. Sam Cooke, John Lee Hooker and Ike Turner were all born there. Famous bluesmen, Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson both lived in Clarksdale. In fact, just outside the town is the crossroads where Johnson famously sold his soul to the Devil. Under the legend, Johnson had a tremendous desire to become a great blues musician. He was told to go a nearby crossroads at midnight. There he was met by a large black man (the Devil) who took Johnson’s guitar and tuned it. The Devil played a few songs and then returned the guitar to Johnson, giving him mastery of the instrument. Johnson died in 1938 at the age of 27. It is unclear how he died although local legend holds that he was poisoned by the jealous husband of a woman with whom Johnson was flirting in a bar. The exact location of Johnson’s gravesite is also unknown and there are, in fact, three different gravesites at three different cemeteries all claiming to be his final resting site.
Here are some photos from our first afternoon and evening exploring the streets of Clarksdale.
Today, we walked around the Auckland suburb of Remuera, where we lived for three years during the eighties. When it was developed, the neighborhood consisted of large homes on quarter and half acre sections. The size of the sections allowed owners later on to subdivide their lots, building second and sometimes third or fourth homes on the original lot. This infill housing has taken away some of the original charm of the neighborhood but it still remains one of Auckland’s most sought after addresses. Here are some of the original and new homes we passed by during the walk.
When we first moved to Auckland, we lived in this house that Mal’s sister and brother-in-law had just bought and were about to renovate.
From there we moved to a small one bedroom apartment. It was under rent control and cost us $26 a week. The building and the home it connected to have since been pulled down and replaced by these much more upscale homes.
A friend visiting from the United States once commented that Auckland is not so much a city as a series of small towns. Case in point are the shops along Remuera Road that very much seem like Main Street of a small American town.
We also stopped by the shops at the top of our street, where we would often walk to and pick up provisions. Often, we were accompanied by our cat, Salinger. Sadly, Salinger moved on years ago, The shops, however, were still there and had not changed much in the ensuing forty years.
When we lived in Remuera, we had a small Fiat Bambina. It had a 500 cc engine and was not much bigger and not much more powerful than a sewing machine. In fact, on some of the steeper streets, one of us would have to get out and walk up the hill, so the car could make it. On the plus side, it did have a sun roof, so you could stand up and look about.
The updated version we passed, did not look as if it would have the same trouble getting up hills.
Speaking of toy cars, this Land Rover definitely looked like it would be at home in a children’s book.
The suburb runs down to Hobson Bay where we went for a walk along the boardwalk that crosses the mud flats and marsh land.
We decided to start our last day on the island like we had started the rest, with a hike. Once again, some uphill climbing was required and once again the view made it all worthwhile.
With some time to spare before our flight back to the mainland, we headed to Medlands beach for once last swim. The beach is split in two by a rock formation that includes a beautiful rock pool. We went for a swim, joined by a friendly octopus, that for some reason took a particular liking to Annette’s toes which he grabbed on to. It must have been her recent pedicure.
Then, sadly it was back to the airport for our return to Auckland. Thanks to Neil and Annette for showing us around Barrier. It really is a special place.
We started the day with a walk up Windy Canyon, which lived up to its name and required hands on hats. Fortunately, we had been in training going up and down the steps to Annette and Neil’s bach, so were ready for the seemingly endless steps that had been built along the trail.
The view from the top was spectacular.
The walk down was much easier.
Afterwards, we went for a stroll along another spectacular Barrier beach, where the surf was up.
We were all in agreement that there would be worse places to live than this home, the only bach on the whole long beach.
Having worked up an appetite, we stopped off for lunch at ‘my fat puku’ cafe. Puku is Maori for belly. Next door to the cafe were the studios of Aotea FM, the local radio station. While driving around the island, we enjoyed listening to Barrier’s radio station. It is a throwback to the old local stations, where the only programming appears to be whatever the DJ feels like playing. One minute, you’re listening to deep house and the next minute heavy metal. There were also plenty of oldies in the rotation. Aotea, by the way, is the Maori name for Great Barrier, and means White Cloud, which we expect has much to do with the clouds that hang around the island’s peaks. It should not be confused with Aotearoa, the Maori name for New Zealand, which means Land of the Long White Cloud.
After lunch, we visited the island’s museum. We couldn’t help thinking of our dear friend, Sally, who has never met a museum, no matter how small or obscure, that she didn’t find worthy of a visit.
You know that you’re getting old when the washing machine in the museum is the same one that you remember from the home you lived in during your university years.
On a misty day, we walked through some beautiful wetlands and up through the bush before coming to the Kaitoke hot springs. Thermal activity heats the water running down a small stream and creates small hot pools along its path. The pool we bathed in was almost too hot to get into. Lauren had finally found New Zealand water warm enough to enjoy, having steadfastly avoided the cold ocean water.
Walking along the path, we came across a number of silver ferns, which have become a symbol of New Zealand. Rugby fans will have noticed them on the uniforms of the All Blacks, New Zealand’s iconic rugby team. The ferns are actually only silver on the bottom of the fronds.
We have heard it said that visiting Great Barrier is like going back In time. It certainly did remind us of New Zealand from forty years back when times were simpler. It is the kind of place where approaching drivers give a friendly wave as they pass you by. Although it is one of New Zealand’s largest islands at 285 square kilometers (110 square miles) it is sparsely inhabited with approximately a thousand permanent residents. Many of those have moved there to get away from it all. There is no grid on the island with all electricity having to be self-generated. Consequently, there are lots of solar panels on display. It is also exceedingly beautiful with an abundance of pristine native forest (bush), wetlands, and beaches.
Among the island’s residents are many artists and craftspeople. We dropped by the Schoal Bay Pottery studio for a visit and, particularly, liked its quirky bathroom and tiny kitchen.
We bought a couple of coffee mugs. No one was around to pay, but like other studios we visited on the island, the honor system was in place, relying on purchasers to pay for their goods by making bank transfers later on.
There are 87 steps up to Annette and Neil’s bach. The view makes the climb well worth it.
Mal and Lauren 