In the case of Maggie Valley? Not very!
At least, you’ll get a break from the Song Contest!
The weather was cold, but sunny. It only snowed once. It might be spring, but there is not a lot of green showing. If it hadn’t been for the golf course, I think that green would be missing from the North Carolina spectrum.
I’ll do the bad bits first.
The local inhabitants look rather more like the Beverley Hillbillies than is quite comfortable. The resort includes that prog as part of its ‘filmed here’ video offerings. It also offers ‘The Hunt For Red October’ as another offering, but I couldn’t quite build up enough nerve to ask where a submarine epic could be filmed up here. They raved on about the beauty of Lake Junalaska – but they had drained that before we arrived!
The Dukes of Hazzard was running on the local TV.
I put some gas (petrol) in the car, and paid the lady in the gas station. I asked her for $30 worth, and handed her a $50 dollar note.
She kept asking ‘thirty dollars’ and I kept saying ‘yes’.
After a few repeats, her eyes rolled up as her brain went into meltdown. Eventually, she realised that I expected $20 change. She then had a fit of the giggles, and did a ‘dippy blonde’ routine. Isn’t education a wonderful thing?
March is out of season – ‘open April!’ – but a few of the many local restaurants were open. We went to the ‘recommended’ J. Arthur’s Restaurant. Had the ‘Beef Medallions’. Like chewing rubber. I checked up afterwards, just to make sure that ‘Beef Medallions’ was not restaurant-speak for ‘bull testicles’
Experience teaches that when Americans describe anything as ‘world renowned’ or ‘world famous’, then you can be sure that the rest of the world has never heard of them.
And they are over-rated or just plain crap.
Beware critical acclaim.
Now we come to Asheville …
Nice old buildings. Lots of arty-farty types. Buckets of culture. The beautiful people feeding off each other’s delusion. Folly infinite. No substance. You can get a nice ice cream in the Grove Arcade – but that is it. A painting that goes no deeper than the canvas.
Is aliveYou are welcome to it.
The good bit.
The Museum of the Cherokee Indian. In the town of Cherokee North Carolina.
Excellently done, and a genuinely moving experience. I asked the staff if they regarded themselves as American Indians or Native Americans. This seems to be point of division amongst the ‘ethnic intellectuals’. The answer pleased me greatly.
“We prefer to be Cherokee”
I can work with that.
The Cherokee have a noble heritage, and some historical parallels with Scots. They do not believe in a society ruled by an elite. And they know who they are.
The town of Cherokee has some tatty tourist shops, and a dreadfully overwhelming Casino blotting out the skyline. But the Museum shows that the Cherokee soul still lives.
The next blog will take us back to the Great USA Song Contest.
See you soon.
Here are some pics from Maggie Valley and the Cherokee Museum.
