There's a similarity to these east coast, southern cities. They were some of the first established in the US, so are older than many places further west.  They all have recognisable town centres close to the sea - because the port was their reason for existence.  This was typically where the wealthiest families lived and the town centres for the most part exhibit the grand Antebellum architecture which characterises the old south.

With that set it's time to say good bye and thank you to Chris and Jackie and continue north - Virginia Beach, Norfolk, Richmond, Annapolis then Philadelphia which is to be the most northerly point on our trip.  It's also where we cross the border from The South to The North and the difference is palpable, if difficult to define.

The vet diagnoses an abscess, now self-lanced and self-drained - there's a clever dog.  There's not much more to be done other than antibiotics, but they do provide a large plastic cone for Lucy to wear to prevent scratching, licking, etc and also to seriously reduce the opportunity for sniffing and snuffling pleasure.  She wasn't too happy about having her face bathed with hot water twice a day either.

The finale to all of this is going to be a Sunday visit to the Cirque du Soleil, which we've been trying to catch, in various places for years, but always missed.  We leave early so as to have time to visit Alexandria and to have a decent lunch before the circus - we're guessing that hot dogs and popcorn will be the mainstay there.  All going to plan.  We draw up to some traffic lights............. and Crash!!!!   We're stunned, we look at each other.  What's happened?  We haven't hit anything.  It takes what seems like an age to realise that someone has driven into the back of us. 

The police arrive, details are exchanged, the cars are both (thankfully) driveable though have missing body parts.  The other driver it turns out is a military veteran (even though he doesn't look old enough) and was rushing to get to the military hospital.  He just can't stop apologising, but finally we're on our way again, though minus a few tail lights and lots of dented panels.  Now there's not enough time to do anything other than go straight to Cirque du Soleil, though we will be one of the first to arrive.  Lunch will in fact end up being a hot dog and popcorn after all.

The show is truly spectacular and lives up to expectations - or at least the first half does.  The second half suddenly stops half-way through.  The music stops, trapeze artists descend to the floor looking bemused, the audience look around expectantly.  An announcement tells us to wait.  After 15 minutes we're told the show will resume.  That is not true!  What happens is that the entire cast comes out and takes a bow.  That's it, the show is over, no explanation, no apology, nothing.  We are not having a good day - but at least we'll get the car home before we need the rear lights!

The following day we're due to pick up Bev & Lynn from the airport in the afternoon, so I'm off first thing to the auto store to try and find bits to effect some sort of repair on the lights .  I find the bulbs I need to get the rear light working and with those and some duct tape it's not looking too bad.  I've even found red duct tape to repair the light lenses.  Flushed with success I slam the boot and walk to the drivers door - uh oh!  The keys are in the boot!  Now a number of different dynamics come into play:  We don't have a spare key.  We are due to pick up Bev & Lynn in a couple of hours.  My phone is in the car so I can't call Lindy or the house and I don't know the numbers - they're in the phone.  Otherwise she could use one of their cars to collect them and/or collect me.   Back into the auto store and one of the guys looks up a local locksmith - "Cars opened from $25" says the advert.  He'll be around half an hour.  He's actually closer to an hour, by which time I've just about memorised the entire stock list of the auto store.

He arrives - "It'll be $160" he tells me. "But your ad says $25"???? "Depends how complicated it is" he replies. "It's just a door, like any other door and you're going to jack it open." I say.  "It's up to you." he shrugs "I've got a list of other appointments."  Of course I really don't have a choice do I.  He's been through this a million times before and he won't even look at my door until he's swiped my credit card - and yes I do still have one that works.   Today isn't shaping up too well either.

Airport pickup etc goes without a hitch and with everyone safely back home I have the opportunity to get somewhere booked for a few days in Nashville.  But now Lindy's credit card has been hacked as well.  At this rate we'll run out of credit cards sometime next week.  It's the same "team" shopping in the same stores in Atlanta.  We trace back through our transactions and the only place we have both used our cards is at the station machine to top up our Washington Metro cards - must have been there.

Just to spin things out we decide to drive out to see the Roanoke Star which is, as I'm sure you all know, the world's largest freestanding illuminated man-made star.  That may well be true, but it still managed to defeat all our efforts to find it, but by the time we gave up the restaurant was (nearly) open so it had served its purpose.  If you do ever happen to be passing through Roanoke at any time the River and Rail Restaurant is well worth a visit.

Next night Knoxville, which is a bit similar to Roanoke, but grittier and without even a star.   On the road the following day we spot a poster announcing "The 33rd Annual Mount Juliet Pow Wow".  It promises a cornucopia of Native American music & culture.   In Nashville there'd be plenty of cowboys and their music so it seemed only right that we divert on the way to get a taste of what the Indians had to offer. 

Nashville is, of course, all about music and most of all country music and that's what you get.  Neither of us can claim to be great fans of country music, but somehow it's different when you're there.  Yeeha!  And no trip to Nashville would be complete without a visit to The Grand Ole Opry, which houses 4,500 paying customers.  It's the Cathedral of country music and a unique format: eight different acts 3 times a week, from newcomers to stars of the C&W firmament, each act does two or three numbers and it is broadcast on 650Khz AM - the longest running live radio show in the world.

We did go with some trepidation, there was a very good chance it would be tackily awful and indeed the early signs didn't reassure us.    The warm-up man was doing a predictable job of getting people up on stage to embarrass themselves.  But once all that stopped and the music started it was fantastic.  We're converts.  Yeeha again!  Off to buy some cowboy boots in the morning.  Buy two get one free the sign reads above the boot store - what does anyone do with 3 boots we wonder??

Memphis was a turning point or perhaps an end point, we would now slowly be heading back in the direction of Brunswick.  The trouble was, no matter how hard we studied the map, we were struggling to find places we even vaguely wanted to visit.  We'd stop in Atlanta of course, but where to break the journey on the way.  Tupelo (Elvis's birthplace) offered the opportunity to see a car which was "very similar" to one Elvis's father had once owned - doesn't draw you in does it?  Tuscumbia boasted the largest coon hound cemetery in the USA - Hmmm, we didn't even know that there were cemeteries specifically for coon hounds and what sort of person would want to visit one?  Definitely not for us.  We settled for Huntsville, which didn't claim to be home to anything much, but was on the way.  We also made a brief daylight stop in Scottsboro and the largest airline lost property in the world.  It's like a giant charity shop and smells slightly of old clothes - like a church hall jumble sale.

We've booked three nights in Augusta.  This sounds like the sort of B&B we'd expect back in the UK.  Not just Bed & Breakfast, but all food included says the advert.  I send a mail to confirm what this means.   "I love to cook so I provide a hot breakfast, free run of the fridge and pantry for lunch and snacks. Then dinner." says Jeffrey.  And it's not expensive, sounds almost too good to be true.  True to his word, when we arrive Jeffrey has cooked a pound cake, has coffee in the pot and is busy cutting up steaks for the BBQ.  Then he's off to the supermarket to supplement beer supplies.  Jo, his partner arrives - she's a nurse, followed by  Nina - Canadian medical student and long term guest, both charming.  Jeffrey busies himself in the kitchen, the BBQ sizzles and the rest of us migrate to the dining table.  Nothing much happens for a while, coordination does not seem to be Jeffrey's strong point, but after a while food, now somewhat tepid, does start making it's way to the table.  Jeffery though does not.  Jeffery remains in the kitchen nursing a beer or several, before deciding (much against Jo's better judgement) that another foray for more beer is required.  We retire with instructions that our hot grits would be ready at 0830.

We were home, after 10 weeks of travel and 5,000 miles, but not for long.  It is now mid-October, we have 6 weeks to run on our US visas and must leave the country.  We have 2 weeks to prepare Samarang and ourselves to leave Brunswick and sail/motorsail far enough South to be able to cross the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas, weather permitting!