A homecoming, of sorts

After a pleasant few days exploring all that Asheville has to offer, it’s once again time to ht the road. I’m slowly running out of time to do the North East coast properly, but can’t shake the slow travel mode – dawdling without an agenda is a hard state of mind to shake.

Today’s trip has a nostalgic note – I’m taking Charlotte back to her hometown – Charlottesville, VA

As you may or may not recall, I was lucky enough to entice Charlotte away from here previous companions, 4 Danish guys who had driven her across country. They in turn had found Charlotte, with the help of an auntie living here, in Charlottesville, and named her accordingly. She still carries a 2016 Virginia registration sticker (though it’s no longer of any importance).

We decide to take the scenic route, along the Blue Ridge Parkway that runs along the mountains. Dubbed America’s favourite drive (i think the Pacific Highway along California gives it a run), it’s 469 scenic miles linking Virginia to North Carolina.

It’s spectacular, with vistas in every direction from atop the mountains.

But after a couple of hours we realise that if we continue at the quite slow pace mountain top roads allow, it will be days before we get to Charlottesville.

So it’s down to the valley, and the equally enjoyable (but in a different way) trip through the backroads.

One roadside curio I had noted on my Google map of America at the start of the trip was Foamhenge, a full size replica of the famous Stonehenge in England, made out of polystyrene.

Our revised route takes me just past it’s locale in Natural Bridge, VA

So Charlotte and I make the detour.

Now Natural Bridge is a small community, and mobile coverage is a little haphazard. so unsurprisingly Garmin doesn’t have the place marked in its library, and google doesn’t give a specific address that I can input, so locating the attraction is a little challenging.

We end up driving down the same stretch of road about 6 times, including stops at either end with minimal coverage to try and get maps to work.

Eventually Google seems to be telling us that we are at the right place, when the only place outside of raw road and scrub is the following:

Not exactly easy to find, no sign, just a small gap in a closed gate.

Foamhenge is a little walk in, up on a hill behind trees and therefore not easily visible from the road.

it is as advertised, life size, and impressive in a kind of “really, wtf” sort of way, and the signs around it match the inherently ludicrous nature of the work.

Is it worth the effort to go out of your way to find it?

Probably not, but the absurdist in me is glad we made the small detour we did.

We realise that time has gotten away from us, and we stop short of Charlottesville. I can almost taste Charlotte’s disappointment, and all during the night she tosses and turns, unable to fully relax in anticipation of her return home the next day.

it duly arrives, but maps gives us one more reason to delay. I’ve been told to go visit Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, and one of the 21 World Heritage listed sites in the US.

It lies directly between us and Charlottesville, so the homecoming must be delayed a little more.

The property is another American beauty nestled in green hills and gardens.

It is much more modest than the Biltmore, though not without it’s charms.

Tours of the house run every 5 mins, which unfortunately make it feel like a production line – each guide is very adept at moving their group to the next room, just as that guide is moving his group out. it’s wonderfully choreographed, but ultimately adds a distant, antiseptic air to the tour and smudges the charms of the place.

In fact I think I would have left disappointed, if it were not for stumbling on some beautiful old cars located in the parking lot as we made out exit.

There is no spruiking of these, no mention they exist, but they are the highlight of the visit for mine. Two rows of perfectly restored machines from the early days of motoring, I’m lucky enough to have them nearly all to myself.

I can’t help but over indulge in posting the pictures here, so apologies in advance

I have no idea why they are here instead of an exhibition, why there is no mention of them at the visitors centre or in the  booklets. It’s an astonishing find from nowhere.

Finally however, we make our leave and head into Charlotte’s home town. There is a horselike glee in her step as she shows off her hometown by pottering around the streets and backstreets.

It’s a rustic, pretty town, again with small narrow roads, one way streets and period homes.

In the centre of town there is a cobbled mall, with attractions from old fashioned cinemas and ice creameries to back alley speak-easies.

I can see why Charlotte is the way she is – proud, reliable, beautiful and a little old fashioned. She is a reflection of her hometown with a little well travelled wisdom to mature her.

More tomorrow.