Where We Have Been - Memphis

From Las Vegas we grabbed a plane to Memphis—one of those places that sort of fell into the schedule while we were figuring out where to go next before New Orleans for New Year. We’re so glad it did. Memphis has a pulse to it: Soul, the Blues, and (depending on who you ask) the birthplace of Rock ‘n’ Roll.

Getting there, however, was a bit of an adventure. We routed via Dallas and, thanks to a delayed departing flight, missed our connection. Dallas Fort Worth airport is basically a giant figure eight, with trains and buses shuttling you between terminals and gates. In fact, we were due to board the Dallas-to-Memphis flight at the exact moment we were walking down the air bridge after arriving. Cue the mad dash.

We sprinted for the train and, while still in transit, got an update from America Airlines—who we flew with to and from the USA, and internally, and found great—that our bags had made it onto the Memphis flight. Needless to say, our luggage arrived in Memphis a few hours before we did. When we finally got to baggage services, the ladies at the desk were so enthralled by our Kiwi accents that we struggled to escape.

Memphis was the only place on the trip where we genuinely felt unsafe. That might have been partly because a woman around our age tapped us on the shoulder while we were waiting for a bus in the centre of town. She told us she’d lived in Memphis all her life and to be careful—there were a lot of people with nothing to lose. It stayed with us.

That evening we hopped off a Trolley Bus to try Memphis dry-rub ribs at Central BBQ. The ribs were incredible, but the vibe around us felt off, and we didn’t hang around. We Ubered straight back to the Hu Hotel.

We visited the Peabody Hotel to watch the famous twice-daily “march” of the ducks—something you’d more expect to see in Britain than the USA. Each morning the Duckmaster rolls out a red carpet, and the ducks make their grand entrance from their quarters higher up in the hotel. They’re then ceremonially escorted to the fountain in the lobby, where they spend the day paddling about like they own the place, before the whole process is reversed later in the afternoon.

We also stumbled across Sun Studio—credited with launching Elvis, and steeped in music history. It’s one of those places that feels small and unassuming until you remember what’s been recorded within those walls. There was even a note about U2 recording Rattle and Hum there, with a drum kit on site that’s apparently tied to the sessions. But the thing that really grabbed us was a photo on the wall of the “Million Dollar Quartet”—and the story behind it is just incredible.

Elvis was a little before our time, but you really can’t visit Memphis without making the pilgrimage to Graceland. The mansion itself isn’t as big as you might expect, but the tour—along with everything across the road—was genuinely interesting and well worth it. And of course, we paid our respects at Elvis’s grave.

It was also in Memphis that we stumbled across our second parade of the trip. We spotted cameras and barricades going up on Beale Street —the street in Memphis—so we asked one of the cameramen what was happening. We were informed that they were setting up to film a parade. As we had some time we decided to jump on a bus to do a circuit of the central area of Memphis. 

On the bus we got chatting with a couple who were in town for the college football game. They asked if we were planning to visit Bass Pro Shops—apparently it’s something they always do when they’re in Memphis—and told us it was inside the former Memphis Pyramid. We had no idea what they meant… until the Pyramid came into view. At that point we pretty much had to get off and go for a look.

And wow. It’s not just a shop, it’s an experience—around 535,000 square feet of it. Inside there are ponds full of live fish, ponds with live alligators, soaring cypress trees, a shooting range, boats, ATV’s, and sporting goods of every kind… plus a whole lot of “what on earth are we looking at?”

We later returned to watch the Liberty Bowl Parade on Beale Street, where we settled in for dinner and soaked up the atmosphere. A couple of great musicians kept the place entertained—and, like so many others in Memphis, quickly latched onto our Kiwi accents. With live music, a lively street scene, and a couple of cold beers in hand, it turned into one of those unexpectedly perfect evenings.

Once we were done with Memphis, it was time to board an Amtrak—an American icon—for the trip down to New Orleans for New Year.