Adventures In The New World With Wandering Whitney #2: Peoria, Peaches and the Passing Landscape

After a stop at a huge service station type place – beats Granada at Whins of Milton – we hit the road! Not literally. But we were soon hit by torrential rain. Seems we brought the British weather with us. The jury is still out on whether we saw a tornado forming in the distance. Although of indeterminable veracity, I choose to be terrified.

The main noteworthy thing about that trip back from the airport was the flatness of the land! Quite unlike anything I have ever experienced in Scotland; the carse of Stirling is really, really flat, but it is surrounded by the Touch hills on one side and the early Highlands on the other, with Ben Ledi, Ben Lomond and the other hills of the Trossachs in the distance. You can see so far – until the trees look like broccoli, only really, really far away.

We pressed on to Peoria through the rain, via Wendy’s and some gorgeous historic buildings in a town I’m afraid I can’t remember at the moment. I was tired – I have a vague recollection of something to do with Gaelic TV, but I can’t recall if we were having a conversation about it or if I was just thinking about Telefios and Dè a-nis? (a Thursday night classic with gunge and go-karting) while travelling through Illinois. Which would be pretty weird, now that I think about it. While we’re on the subject, let me say that Beinnean nan Beann is one of my favourite programmes (as opposed to the ones with a description along the lines of “Father McNeil gives us an insight into his life”). Although I must admit that the following is on my priority list for next week’s viewing.

Iain Smith from South Uist is 97 years of age and can still recite from memory the verses of The Lay of the Smithy from Finglan times as well as other forms of prayers and poems. Iain is more interested in stonemasonry than his age.

Sounds like a classic.

On arrival, Whitney drove (eek! It was weird for us to still be in the same places, but this time she had the wheel).

I met Whitney’s brother and sister, Reed and Amelia, and we all pretty promptly set off for a family outing (plus me) at the cinema. It seemed like either (a) a good way to keep our minds occupied so we wouldn’t fall asleep too early, or (b) a really bad idea ensuring that we would fall asleep in the dark and start snoring in the cinema. To my eternal gratitude, it was the former. X-Men 3 was great, of course; darkly complex and proportionately enjoyable!

Whitney, as promised, introduced me to American popcorn – I can usually put away a considerable amount of the home grown sweet variety, but I couldn’t eat so much of the buttery stuff, though I’m still undecided whether that was the butteriness or just exhaustion. I think it might have been both.

On Tuesday morning I spent some time with the always entertaining Reed, who gave me pause by pointing out that he had only known me ten minutes but already knew I liked shiny things. To this end, he thoughtfully introduced me to his paintball gun, which was indeed, as promised, very shiny and pretty. I don’t think I impressed him by suggesting he might want to name it. Sorry, Reed. I’m such a girl.

After Reed had finished playing me Disney songs (which was great fun), we headed next door to watch Whitney get a haircut, and to play with the kids who initiated me into the cult of the Rainbow Fish. Okay, so it wasn’t a cult. But I had never eaten something blue that tasted of cheese. Conventional Europeans! Whitney’s new hair accomplished, we went shopping at Gordmans, where I went a little potty with the birthday shopping. I experienced Coldstone ice cream – cake batter flavour with an Oreo pie crust stir-in. Mmm. If they could combine the stir-in idea with B. Janetta’s ice cream, I would be a happy dairy bunny.

Later in the afternoon I met the lovely Joyce, the first “victim” of the dual scrapbook and photo album ambush, and a very good spirited one at that. I really enjoyed meeting the church, especially since the Drurys and the community were so welcoming at a time of upheaval and change, as they embark on the difficult task of spearheading God’s plan for prayer in Peoria.

That afternoon, I also met Whitney’s friends Amanda and Ryan, who came over for enchiladas before we left for Florida. It was quite funny to watch Whitney try to find things in the kitchen after a long absence, and I finally worked out how and enchilada differs from a burrito.

At 6am on Wednesday morning, Whitney, Shirley, Amelia and I left Peoria on the long trip south. I must say, the first thing that amazed me was that it took nearly six hours to get out of Illinois. I forgot how big it was, given that we had already driven three hours from Chicago! We crossed the Ohio River, and I noted, not for the first time, that creation is BIG. I’m always amazed in Scotland that in a country that looks so tiny on a world map can have so many huge mountains and expansive glens, so separate from one another and with so much space in between. In America, then, it always amazes me that there are so many major rivers. We drove through Kentucky, the first time I had ever been there, napping (I lost fifteen minutes) eating lunch and earning myself a shiny Kentucky fridge magnet in the process. We passed Nashville, Columbia, the spaceship rest stop in Alabama, Decatur and Huntsville, many of the places with good memories from my first ever USA trip, in 2000.

This time, however, I was awake all the way down to Montgomery, as the first time I slept all the way from Decatur, only waking briefly at Birmingham to look out the window. Montgomery was encountered at rush hour, and since I have seen Montgomery after rush hour, totally deserted, I was worried about the effects on the major roads. But unlike British cities, not naming any names, the traffic kept moving.

Alabama seemed to go on forever, but then it is another long state. Whitney spent the latter half of this past year warning me/complaining about the trees that line the interstate in Alabama, and I see now what she means. However, despite the fact that I think it is not possible to have a 16-hour journey in the UK, unless one is driving on B roads, the time passed quickly. Much of the journey was spent looking at the passing scenery, chatting, listening to music or having brief moments of madness with Whitney in the back, late afternoon, while over-sugared and highly caffeinated:

and forty minutes would pass like ten. It was an odd sensation, but possibly not of particular interest to blog readers, so I shall move on.

A break in the journey was made in Chilton County, to buy some famous Chilton Country peaches. These are, apparently, renowned for their juiciness and general wonderfulness, and deservedly so. Even if that got a little messy.

It was dark by the time we crossed into Florida, but the change in the landscape was noticeable. The trees changed, in particular. Driving through Milton (I think), north of the peninsula, I was struck by how much the car washes and low, square buildings reminded me of fifties films! I don’t suppose I had a preconception of what Florida would look like, so it was interesting.

Eventually we came to Gulf Breeze, to the entrance to the street, and we pulled into the drive…