When driving into Louisville, I was pleasantly surprised. The buildings had character; I suppose apart from New Orleans, many of the places in which we’ve stayed lately were in the thick of huge, glass and steel behemoths of business; the brick buildings of Louisville were a welcome change to the recent capitalistic obelisks.
Camelot and The Black Pyramid arrived at the hotel around 2 or 3pm; I’m not sure because of the time-zone change from Louisiana. Although now on EDT, we’re still only four hours behind the UK and Ireland, which doesn’t seem right, so of course, my entire day is RUINED! In disgust I upturned every object in my room which could be easily lifted at the perceived discrepancy. I then called my anger sponsor, Mr. T, and he told me:
“[C]alm down fool, the clocks go forward in a couple of days! GMT will become BST so don’t gimme none o’ your jibber jabber!”
He slammed the phone down on me after threatening to “work” my neck, whatever that meant.
Before leaving home I mistakenly packed items which I have yet to use or have barely used: shorts, an umbrella, my insulated tea urn, oh the list could continue, but only after I pull the shower-head off in a Hulk-like rage. With a little too much stuff, I’ve been carrying around two roller bags, a practice I do not wish to carry on. So I dumped it all, tutted at it, sighed, and collated the semi-to-less-than-useful things, squaring them away into a bag which I will either ritually burn in the hotel lobby, or stash on the bus until I go home. At time of writing, I realise this episode may sound as if it were fuelled by the guy from New Orleans that said we had too much equipment, but it’s coincidental. I do like to travel light, and I’m not doing that these days.
I went for a stroll after ‘doing’ a blog and cleaning up, and found a nice place nearby, Yafa Café, delighting in a light falafel wrap which served as dinner. By way of its co-owner, a former healthcare worker, I learned she and her husband started the place nearly six years ago and after the initial slow years, are happy their independent, middle-eastern flavoured eatery is doing well. It sits on Fourth Street, in an interesting little run of what must have been a great place for theatre in its day. Indeed the Palace Theatre still stands, as does the Brown, but a restaurant and little shop now occupy two other places which still bear marquees.
Fourth Street looks like a really cool stretch of local history, and I found two bronzes of men who intrigue me — I chuckled, my harboured desire coming to the fore: I kinda hope these two really hated each other in real life:
After failing to find hardcore Perrier in a local shop, I raided Camelot for a couple of bottles and made for my room, not before a pleasant chance encounter with a Mary B, a reader of the diary. From Louisville with love, a Perrier addict.