Jun and I cruised through the bottom lips of Mississippi and Alabama, peering at the sandy beaches on the Gulf as Biloxi and Mobile rolled past. We stopped only in search of touristy magnets, which we started collecting early in our trip and now we have a big, colorful bag full of them.
The mission: get to Florida as fast as possible and snag a spot on a sunny beach in Pensacola. Sounds easy, right? The water was so close, but the stretches of sand eluded us as we hunted for a swimming area. We crossed a long bridge and then zoomed right by the toll bridge for Pensacola Beach, which is supposed to be beautiful, in search of a smaller, free area. Instead of a lovely, wet afternoon, we ended up fighting about the whole thing and then giving up and heading north. I was bummed, but we had also been watching Shark Week on cable here and there and my urge to set foot in the open water was notably diminished. I'd settle for a fresh-water swimming pool.
That night, we checked into a Ramada in Montgomery, Ala., only to find that the pool was closed indefinitely and a giant cockroach was waiting for a kiss goodnight in our bathroom. Sigh. A room switch and bottle of wine got me through that one.
But on to the good stuff: the Rosa Parks Museum is incredible. The way the story is set up puts you as close to the historical action as you can possibly get. You can practically smell the exhaust from the bus. It still surprises me how recent those events that seem like millions of years ago really were, even in my father's lifetime. The battle for civil rights still blazes on, of course.
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| This museum was pretty neat too |
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