On my travels to Memphis, TN
Following my trip to Nashville for my friend's wedding, I decided to extend the trip and head over to Memphis.
I didn't plan it this way but I sort of got to see two sides of America this way. The home of Country vs the birthplace of Soul. White America vs Black America.
Music City (Again)
Can you tell music makes up a big part of my personality? As I was leaving Nashville I would have been happy to never hear a song about drinking whisky in my truck again, the idea of coming to a city that birthed Stax Records was very exciting.
Beale Street is not Broadway, and it's all the better for it. Yes it's still a stretch of road crammed with BBQ and Blues joints but, much like the music, there's more heart, more truth to it than just a tourist destination.
The musicianship on show was just as high as Nashville, but the real stars were the vocalists. In B.B. Kings Blues Club on a normal Tuesday night I was blown away by the talent in that dark club, all while I continued to struggle with America's insistence on not providing the actual price of anything and making me tip (although shout out to Nathan on the bar).
It's not just cover bands. On the Wednesday night I was lucky enough to catch Alabama Shakes at the new Grind City Amp venue on the banks of the Mississippi River, north of Downtown.
It was a great place to watch music, and gave me the festival vibes (which I also got from being hungover). The support act Mon Rovia was also great but there isn't much I've heard that is as good as whenever Brittany Howard sings. Her, and the rest of the band were absolutely stunning.
Think that's it for music in Memphis? Wrong! Next on the list was a visit to the home of Stax Records.
Otis Redding, The Bar-Kays, Isaac Hayes, Wilson Picket, Eddie Floyd, Jean Knight, The Staple Singers, Albert King... the list of legends goes on. Sorry Nashville, Memphis has you beat.
The museum itself is fantastic and really goes into detail of the history of soul and has all the great props and outfits and artifacts from the artists connected to that place.
I bought a Stax t-shirt from the gift shop and headed back into the heat.
At this point you would think I would have squeezed every last drop of juice from Memphis' musical lemon. But no, dear reader. We still have the small matter of one Elvis Presley to attend to.
Yes, I went to Graceland. 
Graceland is mad. There is So. Much. Stuff. And it's all dedicated to one man. Now, I'm not a huge Elvis fan, I'm not dressing up as Elvis, I don't own any Elvis records, I haven't got a jumpsuit. I haven't even seen the Elvis film where that guy forgot to stop being Elvis after it.
But spending 4 hours at this multi-plex shrine I left more of a fan than when I arrived.
The house itself was the coolest part. It is so well preserved and so unbelievably glamorous that I now have an incredible need to decorate my entire house based on the rooms of the house. I want an entirely white living room. I want a mirrored TV room. I want a jungle room. I want a fabric covered games room.
Once you're driven off the site of the house back to the warehouses of Elvis exhibitions it's just a pile of Elvis' stuff. Which is also cool. The cars are cool. The jumpsuits are cool. The movie props are cool. But I was quite jaded by the end of it.
From one King to another
Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated outside Room 306 at the Lorraine Motel, Memphis on April 4, 1968.
The motel is now the site of the National Civil Rights Museum and it's exhibitions take you through the history of civil rights from the arrival of slavery up to the assassination and the present day.
It is a remarkable place, and on every single wall, on every page of text, was something that horrified and made me despair and something that gave me hope.
Martin Luther King Jr. was a modern day prophet. His life, words, and actions challenge and encourage my Christian faith and my humanity.
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