Is there anywhere else to be walking but in Memphis?

We woke earlyish on Thursday and headed off to the airport to return our faithful Mazda 3, before cabbing it across the highway to Graceland (for a face-slapping $20) to visit the home and now resting place of the King of Rock'n'roll. We toured through his house which was gorgeous on the outside and wild, zany, and yet also homely, on the inside. It seems Elvis had no rules for what you can and can't use to cover walls and ceilings, and displayed this with his mirrored ceiling, tapestry walls and ceiling. His jungle room was the most impressive, with green shag-pile carpet on the floor, walls and ceiling! Although he did do some recording in this room, so perhaps there was some method to his madness. With it's own racquet ball court (strongly resembling a squash court) and shooting range, it was apparent Elvis was had a broad many interests. At the end of the tour, you walk through a 'meditation garden' (although meditation is not encouraged) and past his 'cemetery', which is home to him, his parents and grandmother. I thought it a bit sick to dig up these family members to re-bury them beside Elvis, but as Casey pointed out, 'if these people hadn't someone else would have...' mmm America, you do frighten me so!

Post tour, we did a sneaky and caught a free shuttle bus to Sun Studio (courtesy of Sun Studio!) and did a shifty one-two out the door almost immediately after getting there. I'm not one to take advantage of multimillion dollar corporations, but as Casey and I still hadn't eaten (It would've been 2pm) I knew that I would probably consmue a record right off the wall if we undertook another tour. Hoods up and pride disguised, we marched off toward Beale Street. 

Swung into Renevous, which had been previously recommended to us by some American tourists, and was 'hidden' down a funky little alley. Descening the stairs we were informed they weren't serving dinner til 4pm, but we could have some ribs, beans and 'slaw if we did so desired. Despite that sounding about as enticing as herpe-riddled roadkill, we sat down. The ribs were 'dry ribs' seasoned on the outside and far less messy than the BBQ sauce coated ones I'm otherwise accustomed to. But still tasty and satisfying. The beans tasted like baked beans... which was weird, but I guess is how we do in the South. Didn't want to leave it for fear of someone telling me I weren't from aaaaaround 'ere. The 'slaw lived up to it's reputation and was super finely grated coleslaw ingrediants dowsed in vinegar, thus rendering it unedible. Although Casey managed to show it who was boss and get it all down. Good man.

After lunch we resurfaced to street level and ambled up to The Peabody. Having been told it was worth the check out because 'something happens at 11am and 5pm', we did a minor detour and had a nosey. With a gorgeous, extravagant lobby, and boutique shops, The Peabody is a must check out while in Memphis. Unfortunately it was only 2.30pm, but we (or more so I) cooed over the duckies in the fountain before Casey dragging me away, embarrassment burning red on his cheeks.

We wandered down Beale St, although daylight seems to be a neon-lights nemesis, and decided it best to return in the evening.

Had a play at FedEx Forum with the massive cement sport balls.

We swung into a nut shop for some snacks for the 7hour train trip we had the next day. The lady at the counter simply could not believe "ya'll ain't never had candy corn before? My, where have ya'll been livin'?". Not in the greatest country in the world it would appear. We stocked up on unshelled peanuts, candy corn (artificially coloured musky caramel type sweet, not unlike a Milk Bottle) and the gift of the Gods; Chocolate, peanut coated pecans! NOM! Although the pecans were the first to disappear, and only just made it on the train!
 

Sugar rushing and buzzing with endorphins after meeting Mr Peanut, we headed to the Mississippi river (which was more filthy than the Brisbane river)

And then North towards our hotel for recovery in anticipation of Beale Street's nightlife!

 Which did not disappoint! Got a couple beers at the second live-band bar we passed and were rather impressed with the banjo fiddling, harmonica playing skills of the lead singer! The rest of the band was equally as good (although only playing one instrument each) and energetic, except for the long, black-haired bassist swaying ominously in the background. A special breed, and internationally identical it would seem!

Heading back up the road for some grub, and after (foolishly) believing a couple of people banging on about how this place had the best ribs, we went in. Casey got a combination plate, consisting of ribs, fried catfish (could've been any crumbed fish), Texas toast, beans and 'slaw. A mighty feast indeed! I got the tamales, which was easily the worst decision I've ever made. These sausage type things came out, wrapped in a papery substance. After closing my eyes, I put part of one in my mouth and bit down. It turns out the papery wrapper was paper no less, and is best removed before consumption. The meat was a perfect cylinder of cornmeal, orphan souls, deer eyes and mystery meat. I forced one down and was grateful for the bowl of chili which it came with... Effectively I just had a bowl of chili. (Google image tamales to appreciate how vile the morsels on my plate truly were!!)

Unimpressed and feeling dirty to the bone, I told Casey I was terrified of the fatty, greasy, mysterious food of the South and I would hereby commencing a strict diet of anorexia and alcohol.
We went to a karaoke bar which was a good laugh. The women seemed happy to sing Dolly Parton and other bluesy country-style music, where as the boys were more into Dr Dre and 50 Cent, which was an interesting combination. Ordering a large beer we were handed (what I can only estimate to be) 1.25L plastic cups of lager. The plastic cups meant we could walk down the street with it which was closed off, thus minimising motor vehicle accidents. We grabbed another beer at a piano-dueling bar, but after a couple of brews we left and Casey pointed out it was midnight and we had to be up at 5am for our train, and we would have a couple of nights to cause a ruckus in the French Quarter in New Orleans... Tipsy but rational, we returned back to our hotel.