I left Lafayette during rush hour, but it didn’t feel like it because the traffic was light. Despite this, the ride wasn’t particularly engaging or enjoyable. I am not really sure if this was because of the landscape, which – aside from a few small cities with gorgeous trees – was flat and plain, or because I knew it was the last leg of this road trip through the musical heart of America: 1,692 miles, 11 days, 8 live music shows and lots of food after leaving Chicago, I returned the car in New Orleans. Right after settling into the guest house and while waiting for the only concert I…

Taking the Natchez-Vidalia Bridge meant entering Louisiana, the last state of the road trip. The first part of the ride, another solitary drive with no other cars in sight for miles, began on the 15S, coasting along the Mississippi – both river and state – and ended with the long unpaved stretch on the riverbank road beside the Atchafalaya River. About 20 miles before reaching Lafayette, I took an airboat ride experience in one of the largest swamps in the country: brown waters, beautiful trees, friendly alligators, and zero regrets for the fried reptiles I had eaten no more than 48 hours prior. I am just a bad person with…

I left the bed and breakfast at the sunny Belmont Plantation, where I had spent the night, and headed slightly back north for my first encounter with the mighty Mississippi River at Warfield Point. The streets had magically dried out by the time I set off, allowing me to avoid the highways for most of the drive. I’ve always considered the saying ‘everything happens for a reason’ to be a big load of nonsense that we tell ourselves to get through tough moments in life – and doing so, being totally acceptable. However, driving the unexpectedly unpaved riverbank stretch of the 465 South in a 4×4 was definitely better than…

The landscape didn’t change much from yesterday during today’s short 81-mile journey, while the weather did, becoming more threatening as I approached Greenville. A few miles from the final destination, the rain made a groovy and loud entrance in the form of a nasty thunderstorm. With the water in the roadside fields growing brown and thick, I left the side roads to stay on the, for once, safer highway. Once in Greenville, given that the only blues bar in town was closed, I compensated for the lack of entertainment with more southern food: the usual catfish and fried veggies were joined by some new additions—okra, boudin balls, crawfish and alligator.…

One of the shortest drives of this trip: 100 miles, which – aside from the very beginning, leaving Memphis – were driven mostly on the old route lying west of the new Highway 61: the original “blues highway.” Not the prettiest landscape, and the gloomy sky didn’t help, but on the flip side, with the temperature dropping significantly, wearing my leather jacket doesn’t make me look like an idiot anymore. Clarksdale: a tiny, unassuming, and rather deprived city at first glance, hosting a number of iconic, incredible blues bars. After all, the devil’s music was born in the cotton fields around here. Blues music, Mississippi beers, catfish, fried green tomatoes,…

It turned out the weatherman was right. The rain came copiously all night long, stopping just a few minutes before I left the motel. The first 150 miles were as smooth as it gets, mostly driven along an empty Natchez Trace Parkway with a pale sun trying to make an appearance. My only worry was not to run over the pretty naive, turkey-looking-like birds attempting to cross the road without any notice.When a tiny little screw somehow found its way into the right rear tire of my car, everything changed, and a rather pleasant morning turned into a wasted afternoon. After four hours of pointlessly waiting in the middle of…

The drive began with a bit of traffic leaving Louisville and ended with a bit of traffic approaching Nashville. In between, a slow 214 miles unfolded, including two glorious entries into Tennessee (it turns out, if the GPS says something, it’s most likely right), driving on beautiful, tiny roads surrounded by lush vegetation, farms, and livestock.And I believe I was the only person not driving a pickup in all of Tennessee. Nashville, AKA Music City. Music all day long, music all night long; neon lights, crowded streets, cowboy hats, leather boots, short shorts, booze, cold beers, warm whiskey all around me on Broadway. An unpleasantly humid and warm Monday night.…

Postcard from Louisville, Kentucky I took it easy in the morning, leaving after 10 am, which was not my brightest idea ever, given the heat I drove through all afternoon. A few miles past Indianapolis, bored with the straight and uneventful state roads, I started improvising, hitting random county roads – a few of which were unpaved – much to the utmost disappointment of the mighty GPS, which was forced to re-route every other time. The closer I got to Kentucky, the browner the fences became, the whiter the houses, the pinkier the trees, the smoother the rolling hills were, the more numerous the horses, and, to my happiness, the…

Postcard from Indianapolis, Indiana. I left a beautifully sunny Chicago later than expected – due to the car rental agency, well, momentarily not having any cars available to rent – driving slightly north from downtown to catch Lake Shore Drive at its most iconic stretch, right between Lincoln Park and Oak Street Beach, determined to drive as close to the lakeside as possible until reaching the Ogden Dunes. From there, it was an almost straight drive south through rural Indiana. Maybe not be the most interesting place on Earth, but the drive was smooth, the traffic nonexistent, and everything looks prettier when it’s sunny, right? A total of 223 miles,…