We couldn’t leave the city without seeing a little of Elvis. We settled on the mansion tour which left from just outside the RV site. A quick bus ride to the other side of the road and we were in what looked like a modest family home, certainly not the biggest that I’ve lived in. The building was a time-warped shrine to the King. The style was over-the-top 70s, with carpet on the walls and ceilings, the ornate mixed in with the eccentric. What was more surprising was the extent to which an ‘in the country’ feel had been preserved in this grey city area. There were paddocks for the horses and a plethora of outbuildings to explore. The upstairs were out of bounds to us, we think, because Elvis is still living there.
Then onto the Fedex drop off to send a car key to Social Circle as we had left our lights on and were facing a flat battery on our return.
From Tennessee we journeyed into Arkansas uneventfully. Van Buren RV site was typical of the small town stereotype. It was small with the stereotypical dog running around. Folks were friendly if a little unworldly, imagining France to somehow be part of England, but I guess there would be many in the States who have little interest in what happens outside the country’s borders, even in spite of 7/11.We pulled in alongside an Airstream camper, not the pull along one but one with an engine, circa 1988. It was being driven by Mike Bertch and his lady, Tracey. Mike was a gaunt 60 year old with his flowing grey hair pulled back tight into a ponytail. Beard and moustache made up the full hair set, They had been RV-ing for five years and spent 9 months away from home, every year. They told us of their alternative lifestyle in the Four Corners of America and lent me a wrench to firmly fix the driver’s mirror to the bodywork. We exchanged pleasantries and addresses and shared a common journey albeit at a different pace
Then onto the Fedex drop off to send a car key to Social Circle as we had left our lights on and were facing a flat battery on our return.
From Tennessee we journeyed into Arkansas uneventfully. Van Buren RV site was typical of the small town stereotype. It was small with the stereotypical dog running around. Folks were friendly if a little unworldly, imagining France to somehow be part of England, but I guess there would be many in the States who have little interest in what happens outside the country’s borders, even in spite of 7/11.We pulled in alongside an Airstream camper, not the pull along one but one with an engine, circa 1988. It was being driven by Mike Bertch and his lady, Tracey. Mike was a gaunt 60 year old with his flowing grey hair pulled back tight into a ponytail. Beard and moustache made up the full hair set, They had been RV-ing for five years and spent 9 months away from home, every year. They told us of their alternative lifestyle in the Four Corners of America and lent me a wrench to firmly fix the driver’s mirror to the bodywork. We exchanged pleasantries and addresses and shared a common journey albeit at a different pace
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