Oil. Water. They don’t mix AND when you dump too much of either one of them anywhere, it’s a problem. The Gulf of Mexico oil spill and the Tennessee floods are, to put it mildly, bad stuff–but there are ways we can all help ease things for the people who live in the affected areas (and have a damned fine time while doing it): we can visit them. For some ideas to get you going, a Three-fer Friday of places we think you should visit (and soon).
Joining us this week is Nashville-based writer Margaret Littman. Though she’s a close friend, I was a little hesitant to ask her to join in this week because of all that’s been going on in her newly-adopted (and beloved) home city. I didn’t want to add to her flood exhaustion. I’m so glad I asked. Between her love of Nashville and her passion for the “sugar sands” of Gulf Shores, Alabama, where she spends her “favorite month” of the year, she knows these places. She also knows how much tourism dollars mean to the people who live in both Nashville and Gulf Shores. Oh, and, Margaret’s a straight-shooter with high standards: If she says you should go somewhere, I think you should listen.
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Instant relaxation. Right? A moment in time at Gulf Shores, Alabama. Photo by Margaret Littman.
The first thing that blew my mind about Gulf Shores was the fact that stuff that doesn’t seem to go together elsewhere co-exists so well in this coastal Alabama resort. There are pine trees and palm trees that grow alongside each other on the same hiking trails. There’s the combination of the Gulf of Mexico and Mobile Bay, which gives you fresh and saltwater fish in walking (er, swimming) distance of one another. Literally minutes from the high-rises and serious 24-7 Spring Breaking on the Gulf Shores public beach is the quiet, remote Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge. Something about these odd juxtapositions contributes to the magic of the area, an away-from-everything quality that you usually can’t get without a passport and jet lag.—Margaret
Yes, there really was a Barbara Mandrell museum. But Nashville is better than that these days. Photo by Sophia Dembling.
While I lament the passing of Barbara Mandrell Country (music fans are so fickle) and Nashville‘s super-kitschy days, I still adore the city’s serious music gestalt. I love that the waitress singing under her breath at the diner has a voice as good as any on the radio. That the pickers scratching out a living at the hotel bar would be worshiped anyplace else. That at the Bluebird Café, people you never heard of sing songs you’ve heard a million times—because they wrote ‘em.
One reason to visit now? Since Opryland is flooded, the Grand Ole Opry will take to other stages, including back home at the historic Ryman Auditorium. That’s pretty cool. (And the Opry still has kitsch-appeal.)—Sophia
Ah, Royal Reds. So good. So very good. Photo by biskuit via Flickr (Creative Commons license).
I have kvelled over Royal Reds in Gulf Shores and oysters in New Orleans and clams in Florida and lots of other stuff in between (and beyond). And, straight up, I’m worried about the fishermen and the seafood restaurants. Between the 10-day halt on fishing in the affected areas of the Gulf of Mexico and what’s sure to be (as much as I hope it won’t) public worries over the safety of the seafood, I just think you should go to a seafood restaurant in the region and eat. Eat eat eat. Even if they’re relying on some frozen goodies from the Gulf’s waters, it’ll be better than anything you’ve ever had. Guar-an-teed.—Jenna
