As the North American tour neared its conclusion, we found ourselves at our final stop, Chapel Hill in North Carolina. Famous for its University and their sports teams, Chapel Hill is a wonderfully pretty place, lined with stunning trees and hidden lakes: brimming with small town charm and surrounded with vast, magnificent countryside. Finding the house where we were staying would have been a remarkably tricky task without our (for once) accurate navigator Tom, as driving around Chapel Hill and Catham County at night leaves you wondering if they have ever heard of street lamps. After a few days of driving around and getting my barings, I was actually very glad of the lack of lighting as their absence left a remarkable view of the Milky Way in its wake. Very rarely have I seen such clear and glorious skies, and although I didn't take the opportunity to photograph them, I did take time to sit and marvel at them on many occasions.
The winding lanes that take you from Catham County into Chapel Hill itself were reminiscent of the Essendon Road in Hertford, England (where my parents live) and made me feel at home very quickly. Having to slow down for deer early in the morning or swerve to avoid other creatures kept me on my toes, but it is always great to see so much wildlife in one place. The people of Chapel Hill were friendly for the most part, although I was expecting a little more warmth from the deep south, having been told of its famous hospitality on many occasions
and I was surprised that general politeness levels were not equal to that found in Richmond, for instance.
Towards the end of our second week in Chapel Hill, John came to visit us (see the entry on Letchworth State Park in September for more adventures with Mr.Blundell) for one night which gave me the opportunity to sample more of the micro-brewed beers I hadn't yet tried and to catch up with a few old favourites. That night we had an Ice Storm, which is something I had never even heard of, let alone experienced, and I awoke to discover that my car was completely entombed in a one inch layer of ice: door handles and all, putting me in mind of the Delorean in back to the future after it had arrived from another year in time. Armed with a plastic spatula I set to work, chiseling and scraping and bashing and scraping and chiseling......did I mention scraping? It was hard work but I was eventually successful. I took some photos of the large pieces of ice that we removed from John's car later that day.
A few days later, whilst Whitney was watching someone having their brain cut up, I went out to take a few photos. I stumbled across a lake that had many trees growing out of it, and due to the stillness of the weather, the water acted like a mirror for the trees. I also stumbled across a deer carcass lying serenely beneath the surface, like some hideous Zombie-Bambi and couldn't resist taking a few snaps. Apologies to anyone who finds this, or me, disturbing.
This was our final stop on a long, but thoroughly exciting and fascinating trip around one of the most underrated countries in the World (although it is only underrated by non-Americans, as those who do not fall into this category already know what a great place it is and won't hesitate to tell you so). I once told a dear friend that, "I will never, ever, ever, ever step foot on American soil", and while I did spend the first week in the States trying to avoid all grass areas, I soon conceded and I cannot wait to go back and explore some more of it. If you ever have the chance to go, please don't be put off by your prejudices as I was, and take the plunge. You won't regret it. It is truly one of the greatest places on Earth.
