Hilton Head to Asheville

With a mug of tea, whole wheat toast and a cd, "Bach for Breakfast", I left Hilton Head on Sunday morning to get on to Asheville.  Does it sound crazy to say I felt glad to be on Rt. 95 again?  I'll even admit I was humming Willie Nelson's song, "On the Road Again"!  The ride to Hilton Head the day before was pretty.  I stopped along the way to get peaches, peach cider, and a "moon pie". But, when I reached the hotel, it was clear that the location I selected on Hilton Head was not for me, filled mainly with families, couples, and college students. Plus, I decided I didn't want to spend another day roasting in the sun. One advantage of staying in a major hotel chain and traveling alone is that you can easily change plans, so I did!

There was one partial story I gathered at dinner.  I had checked on Trip Advisor for a restaurant nearby and found the Market Street Cafe across from the hotel.  There was a long line, but a few empty seats at the counter. I went in, ordered a glass of wine, salad and an individual vegetable pizza. Next to me was a young Indian woman holding a child on her lap.   She lived three hours away  and drove to Hilton Head for the day, though decided to stay overnight at the Holiday Inn across the street, where I was staying.  She talked about her previous job, her decision to stay home with her son (he had just turned one), and now her eagerness to get back to work.  She mentioned to the waitress next to her that she had an arranged marriage, but then let that conversation drop. I was curious and concerned that she had driven so far to have some time to herself with her son and wondered about the story behind the one she was telling.

After a quick breakfast and curious stares from a young waiter, I was ready to go.  The drive to Asheville was long, with only one delay due to what looked like a fire or explosion in the back of a tractor-trailer truck.  The cab was ok, but the back of the truck was a skeleton.

In Asheville, I'm booked for three nights at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in a large room in the new section of the hotel.  After a failed attempt to get into the Biltmore for dinner,  I drove to the famous Grove Park Inn.  I had a lovely view of the hillside and  mountains, but my dinner was the worst I've had all week.  When I said as much to the waitress, she subtracted the dinner from my bill. I didn't linger at the inn, but drove into Asheville to walk around and have dessert.  While most of the shops were closed, many restaurants and cafes were open.  The town has an artsy, alternative feel with people lingering at tables and a rock band playing in the park.  It's certainly a contrast to the hustle of downtown Charleston.  

http://www.groveparkinn.com/Leisure

Tomorrow I'm headed to the Biltmore Mansion, the largest home in America.