Blue hotel

Against Beth's advice I decided we would stop at one of those roadside motels, you know, as run by Norman Bates. To be fair the man who signed us in didn't look like a maniac but then neither did Norman to start with.

First observation was that the walls were very thin. Like two sheets of wallpaper sandwiching some cardboard. When Christian asked me a question one of the Mexicans in the next room asked, "¿Que?" Oh! Did I not mention the Mexicans? We lost count of the different voices we heard but think a good part of the population of Chihuahua were right next to us. The motel may have been cheap but when they throw in a crash course in Spanish you can't be ungrateful, can you?

The shower was clean and a joy to use as was the loin cloth they gave us to dry ourselves with. The washbasin was in the bedroom, though. Cleaning my teeth with an audience was a whole new experience for me, one I would have missed out on entirely if we had gone to one of those regular hotels where they had full sized towels. And coffee making in the room. And free breakfast the next morning. Free newspapers. And a shortage of bugs in the bed!

Yesterday was a big driving day, Ashville to Winston-Salem for a NASCAR museum then the long haul to Myrtle Beach ready for today's treat. The museum was really impressive run by Richard Childress racing, one of the teams who for years ran the legendary Dale Earnhardt. It was way bigger than we expected, beautifully laid out and we both learned so much about the sport. You know how I always think too much about everything and that included stock cars as well. I had virtually every question answered yesterday.

One huge frustration was when we were sat watching a video of Earnhardt's career, narrated by Paul Newman. In this little corner of the museum was on of those roll-up garage doors with a display put across it. Part way through the video they started up one of the race cars next to us and then we could hear it being run round outside the building. It was fu - err - very loud! We never will know now what the commentary was through that bit!

How can I put being the other side of the door from a full-on race car to you ladies? Imagine hearing someone really famous, really handsome like George Clooney/Brad Pitt/Johnny Depp/Lyle Lovett (delete as applicable) the other side of that door but you just can't find your way there. That's how we felt. Well - not about George Clooney. Nor Lyle Lovett. We later found out that they were doing pit stop practice. Damn.

The drive from there to Myrtle Beach took us through some interesting places. Strangely interesting. In all those films where you see the old black guy sitting on the porch in his rocking chair? He's still sat there, I can tell you. We saw a few trailer parks too. Nice. And several roadside bars where we just know the talking would have stopped as we walked in. "Hey - you got purty lips, boy!" We weren't that desperate for a drink.

And what is with the car sales lots? There are hundreds of them. And each one has so many cars for sale, sixty, seventy, eighty cars all on one lot. Who has the money to buy those in and leave them sitting there hoping a customer will call in and buy one. That's a shedload of money just sat there on every lot.

Overall impression so far? North Carolina is one beautiful state and really should be higher up the tourist scale. I'd come again just on the off chance I'd sit staring at the wolf that sat staring at me.

Today is a plantation laid out as a garden with over seven hundred sculptures in it - poor old Christian is going to end the day loving them or hating them, that's for sure. Then on to Savannah and the luxury of two nights in a hotel. we've already booked our room and it ain't in the Bates Motel, that's for sure.