After Dallas, we were stoked to have a tiny three hour drive and get into the long-anticipated Jackson. Johnny Cash & June Carter had us convinced it was brilliant, you know?
What we didn’t expect was torrential downpour almost the entire way there. We didn’t expect the whole city to be 100% shut down after dark. We didn’t expect to drive around, slowly starving as each restaurant we passed was closed. We didn’t expect to end our night with Whataburger and zero live blues.
The morning in Jackson was only slightly better, but it still wasn’t the hoppin’ Southern city we’d imagined. We stopped in at Hal & Mal’s on the way out of town, which was good and would have been superb in the evening, but again, NO LIVE BLUES! We’d obviously been misinformed by the Internet. (Imagine that, eh?)
Aside from the gaping absence of music, the restaurant was pretty cool, especially when I looked up to find John Mayer’s John Hancock right above the table. I didn’t take a photo because I wasn’t sure if it was legit or not, but I stared at it the whole time wondering. When we got to Birmingham, I looked it up. He’d played there in 2001.
The drive to Birmingham was pretty non-memorable and SURPRISE! Rainy. We spent our afternoon napping and actually surrendered to Olive Garden for dinner even though it was our last night outside of NC. More than anything, it was a night to catch up on sleep and reflect on the 22 days that came before.
We woke up earrrlllly and each had a mountain of frozen yogurt for breakfast before driving the last but lengthy nine hours ahead.