Carrie and Jared were my best friends in high school. No, scratch that. Middle school. So we all decided it was time for a much needed friend rendezvous in Memphis.
I adore Memphis. But by that same token, I've done most of the touristy Memphis things. I've hiked through the zoo, toured old homes, gone to art shows. My childhood was spent prowling the fantastic historical exhibits of Ramses II and Catherine the Great and hop-scotching over the mini-layout of the Mississippi River on Mud Island. I've squinted at the floor to ceiling shag carpeting in Graceland and wished for a black light. I don't care what anyone says... floor to ceiling shag carpeting is a health hazard. Even if it is the King's house. I've eaten fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at BB King's and Matt proposed to me on top of the Peabody Hotel.
So when Jared asked us what we wanted to do, Carrie replied, "We want to do what the locals do."
And so we headed to a neighborhood called Cooper Young.
And you know me. Any neighborhood with a big pink house is OK in my book.
It's a lovely, quirky little community. The houses have red doors, old southern charm, cracked sidewalks, iron fences, ivy covered walls and mammoth oak trees shading the streets.
There are shops (antiques, ahem) and restaurants and even a cat rescue society. It's called the House of Mews. How cute is that?
Doing what the locals do. It's my new favorite vacation activity. Because while the big attractions are often fantastic (and if you haven't seen Graceland I say GOOOO), it's the side streets of a city that make you fall in love with it. It's the cafes and gingerbread front porches and tree covered streets that make you sigh and say, "Mmmm... I could live here."
So that's how we spent our afternoon. Doing what the locals do.