Tonight I am in
Cleveland. I didn’t expect to be here another night. I had rather hoped to be crossing the Atlantic, but the storms over
Chicago had other ideas.
My flight from CLE to ORD to connect onto London was badly delayed, so badly that I would not have made my connection and all other flights were full. So I have decided to cut my losses and stay here again tonight.
It is the oldest adage in the traveller’s book. When things start going wrong, do one of two things: get out of Dodge as soon as you can, preferably when you first notice things are heading the wrong way, or resign yourself to rebooking and just “go with the flow.” I didn’t realise the bad weather was going to screw things up quite as badly as it did, so I was left with only the second option.
Not to worry – they may call Cleveland the ‘Mistake on the Lake,’ but I rather like it and there are some excellent downtown restaurants to enjoy a decent steak.
This is a rather fitting end to this latest trip, which is why I haven’t been blogging much. Let me give you the routing so far: London to Los Angeles then onto New York and down to Atlanta (to visit the Mothership of CNN – you must see the CNN Cente if you are down that way…)
In Atlanta I decided it was 'Quest Time', so I abandoned the plane. Instead, I drove from Atlanta to Knoxville to Nashville to Memphis. I reminded myself why air travel is only one part of the business traveller’s life. It is so liberating being on the road. Even if the temperatures are burning hot in the South at the moment. (I stood at Graceland for the 30th anniversary of Elvis’s death in 106-degree temperatures.)
But it matters not - what can beat pulling over to a truck stop on the highway where they serve real peach cobbler, with ice cream of course! And smokers unite – yes, you can still smoke! (OK I guess the boss will take this bit out – not terribly politically correct these days! But I am giving up. I am.)
Oh yes, a quick tip – if you are down Nashville way, you MUST take time to visit the Loveless Café. Their fried chicken and biscuits are famous. And there should be a law against the sweet potatoes in Caramel. It is at least 15 years since I last ate there, and even though the place has been gussied up (there’s no longer a Loveless motel, just chintzy stores) the food was every bit as good as I had remembered. Don’t go for Sunday lunch though – they tell me it’s a two-hour wait at times.
The moral of this tale? When work takes me to places I want to enjoy I will abandon the plane, take the car and take some time. I swat away questions about where and I am and what I am doing with an airy “Oh, on Blackberry”…
Little do most realise I mean Blackberry pie. And now, a night in Cleveland. Steak? Rather.
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