Saturday, April 10, 2010

Hot Springs Village, Arkansas

When Kristine told me her new house in Arkansas was in a gated community, the images that sprang to mind were Bel Air, described by Wikipedia as ‘a faux gated community in LA made famous by a TV show’, and some feeble imitations dotted – and probably leaking by now - around Auckland’s North Shore. When she told me she had a brother, I didn't imagine someone quite so much like her!

So I was really not prepared for John, or the 9 golf courses, 11 lakes, 23 churches, 15,000 residents and 426 miles of immaculate paved roads contained within the gates of Hot Springs Village in Arkansas. Luckily Kristine had been there before, and had some idea where her house was. People get lost, particularly at night, and have to be rescued in the morning. The only wildlife we saw was deer and birds, but there’s bears in them thar hills so a poor sense of direction can be dangerous!
The house was also a surprise. It looked nothing like the images I’d seen on Google Maps, and even looking the real thing straight in the garage door gave no idea of the spacious two storey interior or – wait for it – the lovingly constructed MODEL RAILROAD TRACKS that snake through the yard and down by the lakeside jetty.

If anyone is wondering what to get Kristine for her 4th 54th birthday pressie (and can't afford her favourite rock star :-) she needs some new rolling stock cos the previous owner took all his with him when he moved. Apart from a fabulous set of tracks, all he left was this rather forlorn sign in the basement :-(
Nice one Kristine!

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Okefenokee Swamp

Ninety minutes south of Savannah, an hour west of Brunswick GA and almost into Florida lie more than 400,000 acres of wetland gator territory. Casual visitors can learn about the tragic history and experience the current magic of this vast nature reserve without risk to life or limb at the Okefenokee Swamp Park. More serious travellers are free to explore, camp, tramp or get lost in the maze of woods and waterways.

Entry to the park is via US177, eight miles south of Waycross off the Jacksonville Highway. While these may sound like mighty Interstate trunk routes, the part I drove was light on traffic and absolutely charming, with miniature wetlands along the verges and just a few small towns scattered in between. Throw in lots of churches, as one finds in ‘bible belt’ America, a few barn sized antique shops and, of course, many miles of long straight road. The landscape is wheat harvest brown with inky blue-black pools reflecting rows of skinny upright shrubs, fallen trees and fresh green shoots.

No worries about driving in unfamiliar terrain. There’s virtually nothing to hit and no wrong turns to take.


The tragic history of the area is one of the last massacres of white settlers by local Indian tribes. There’s a Scottish connection here as everywhere on this trip.

I’m sure there are a few more tragic tales involving gators and the product of the ubiquitous still that no one lived to tell.

Trips through the park can be done on foot, by boat and on the railroad.

The guides on the latter two are attractions in themselves. A well-tuned ear is needed to keep up with their stories.



There is wildlife show with a storyteller who dances through a routine with snakes, young gators and a ‘scary surprise’, which, after everyone has surreptitiously checked for the shortest route to the nearest exit, turns out to be a soft toy.

Arriving early proved to be a good strategy. As well as affecting an early escape from a very ordinary, musty smelling chain motel, I caught the local wildlife at ease before the crowds descended – gators lazing on the grass and taking a shower, and this gorgeous otter standing tall.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Eavesdropping outside a southern baptist church

Back to decent bandwidth (once thought I'd never be able to say that living in Devonport!). Here's the Sunday morning video from Darien GA I couldn't upload en route.