“Honey, this is the New South; you can go wherever you want.”–unattributed quote from an Alabaman on Day One.
The first state on my list was Alabama, which was a tough sell to get anyone to go with me. “Alabama?” many of my friends said when I invited them to join. “Call me when you go to Hawaii!” I have to admit, even I was a bit intimidated. All I know about the Deep South is what I learned in school about the Civil Rights movement, and that it’s perennially hot and humid. I wasn’t even sure if they call it the Deep South anymore, and I did not want to be rude by doing so. I also did not want to be uncomfortably hot the whole time.
Given its unfamiliarity, it felt like a daunting place to start being a tourist, a role that is generally not comfortable for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love travel and sightseeing, but I generally do it because I have a purpose that allows me to do it. I tend to take on work that requires me to be somewhere else, and then I fill my free time with visits to local attractions. This trip was a first step at being deliberate about my curiosity and it felt a bit intrusive. And the Deep South is the last place a displaced Northerner wants to experiment with being intrusive. In any case, I did not have the money to start with Hawaii anyway, so I moved forward with my plan. I am glad I did.