The cherry blossom capital of the world beckoned to us from our Interstate exit motel...Macon! The city has planted 350,000 Japanese cherry trees which bloom around late March each year. That's over NINETY times more trees than America's more famous cherry tree blossom festival city, Washington DC.
Macon sits at the junction of two Interstates and judging by the billboards advertising the handiwork of Asian ladies, it must be a truckers' paradise. Massage parlour capital of the world, more like! We, er, pulled off at the downtown exit and were amazed at the panorama: a tall hill, its slopes covered with the monuments of a vast cemetery and its heights crowned with grand houses, while the stately buildings of a university campus and numerous church steeples also caught our eye.
Downtown Macon promised so much from a distance, but at street level was in a sad state. Walking around the boarded-up shopfronts, derelict buildings and empty streets was like stepping onto the set of I Am Legend.
The only places open were this florist...
...plus a cafe, an army surplus store (which was going out of business) and a barbershop. Every so often we spotted a tramp keeled over on a bench, otherwise the streets were devoid of human life.
What was most shocking was to realise that despite the desolation, at one point this was a beautiful city. Nothing has changed except that the shoppers and residents have fled to the suburbs. All it would take to bring life back to the downtown would be some apartments, a nightlife district and several shops to attract Interstate travellers and jaded Atlanta socialites wanting a change in scenery.
Ignorning the devastation, we were bowled over by the lovely old buildings.
Since it appears many buildings have been left to rot since the 1950s and 60s, there were vintage signs at every turn as well.
But hey, how about those famous cherry blossoms??
Hmmm, not quite what we expected...
Now this is more like it!
To be fair, we were a week or two early for the cherry blossom festival and had to content ourselves with this small preview.
On our way out of Macon, we passed acres of parking lots and miles of strip miles all packed bumper to bumper with shoppers.We headed back north a few miles to the village of Juliette, a one-horse town that draws busloads of tourists wanting to dine at the Whistle Stop Cafe. Years ago they filmed Fried Green Tomatoes here and it's still packing in visitors.
The tour operators have got it made. The cafe can only seat 40 or so people which means it fills up with a single busload of tourists. That leaves the other busloads ample time to browse the shops. The town's old bank, old general store and many of its former homes are now gift shops - a crass reversal of what we had just seen in Macon.
I wasn't expecting much from the food, which took an age to reach the table, but it turned out to be worth the wait. Christian had a fried green tomato sandwich and I had the shredded barbecue pork with a side of what turned out to be the best onion rings of the trip.It tooks us 10 minutes to browse the shops. You'd have to be desperate to spin it out a whole hour, though I suppose that is exactly what the owners are counting on. After 15 minutes you realise that if you don't start spending money to pass the time you will collapse into a bored, hungry heap.
Next stop...back to Atlanta, for the last couple days of the trip. Check back next time and find out why (despite the two tornados and Empress Josephine's art collection) we left thinking it's America's most boring big city.
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