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Posts Tagged ‘Biaggi’s’


Within five minutes of the aforementioned photoshoot on the staircase at Magretta and Chuck’s Forget-Me-Knot bed and breakfast in St. Louis, Missouri, we were back on the road in a light drizzle that evolved quickly into driving rain. With a cool, strong breeze blowing too, it was undeniable that we weren’t in Louisiana anymore.

The dramatic temperature change even prompted us to ditch the car’s air conditioning for the heating!

We were both a little weary and lethargic this morning, a not uncommon feeling at this three-quarter point in a month long vacation. But spending a few days with our San Francisco friends and their two sons, who were joining us in Chicago, would no doubt re-energise us.

It was still the tail end of the rush hour, so driving was more challenging than it had been for the southern leg of the trip.

Another phenomenon that we had not experienced before – roadworks – slowed us down still further on I-55 (also Route 66), though we never reached the type of standstill that is a daily occurrence on the major motorways of the U.K.

At Litchfield we filled up on gas, the penultimate time we would need to do this before returning the car at Midway Airport in Chicago tomorrow.

Endless fields of corn and barns dominated the landscape.

I had remarked in a previous chapter that, even when the scenery might be bland for hundreds of miles, the directional and promotional signs that dot the highways of the United States are always a good read.

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Our history professor at the breakfast table earlier had self-disparagingly claimed his home state had little to commend it other than its connection to Abraham Lincoln.

And we were reminded of that on a number of occasions on the roadside.

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We had set out with the intention of visiting the Lincoln Museum in Springfield, but the dismal weather, and relatively slow progress, prompted us to decide to drive on to our destination, with only a brief stop near Chatham where we had McMuffins (for the last time) and coffee for the ludicrously low price of $7.49.

Arriving a little earlier in Peoria would also enable us to rearrange the suitcases as it would be the last opportunity to do so before our next flight (from Chicago to New York).

And for me to catch up on the blog!

We arrived at our Motel 6 (the cheapest accommodation of the whole trip at only $60 (£46) for the night), as the rain finally relented.

It was located in a typically American roadside complex of gas stations, a variety of stores and a handful of modest eating places, one of which, amidst the fast food outlets, was the fantastic Biaggi’s.

We had been disappointed on our last evening in St. Louis that we could not have the classy Italian we had craved, so to discover such an elegant establishment in such an unexpected place was a delight.

Our only reservation was having to endure the barman ‘s pretentious descriptions  of the dozens of exotic craft beers he was willing to dispense. It almost made me pine for  the days when all you could get was a Bud or Coors!

Tomorrow would be the last day on the road.

And, as if to complete the set of different types of accommodation we had stayed at, we would have a whole three bedroomed house at our disposal!

Folkestone meets San Francisco in Chicago!

 

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Our last breakfast in St. Louis and Chuck surpassed himself, with a divine Eggs Benedict following a sweet, refreshing bowl of strawberries.

But there was a difference at the table this morning. We were joined – after ten minutes – by the two couples that had checked in the night before, rendering the bed and breakfast fully booked.

Jim and his wife from Mobile, Alabama and a younger couple from upstate Illinois introduced themselves, though it is only Jim’s name that I now recall as you will learn the reason for shortly.

The Illinois couple, who had been to a music event in the city the night before, were professors of history and an artist respectively.  Although they listened intently to the story of our road trip, they were not so forthcoming about their own lives, seeming eager to hit the road.

But Jim was another “personality” altogether. A retired stockbroker who had made his money, and now an avid golfer, he was far more forthcoming about his accomplishments  and, more alarmingly, his political views.

Now, we had scrupulously avoided being dragged into any intense debates about the state of American politics and society on the trip, though, to be fair, we had only really met people who were of a liberal persuasion, and embarrassed about the current state of their country. In fact, our fellow shuttle bus passenger in Newark at the start of the tour personally apologised to us for her president.

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But Jim, as authentic a ‘good ol’ Southern boy” as I had ever met, came right out with it.

“So, what are your politics , right or left?”.

Fortunately, he levelled his question at our history professor, casting no more than a cursory glance in our direction. I think he had already resolved that we were pagan, socialised medicine loving, immigrant embracing, gun hating reprobates and beyond redemption.

Clearly discomfited by the direct, almost aggressive nature of the question, the history man replied, with an unnecessarily apologetic tone in his voice.

“Well, we are liberals”.

Presumably thinking he would sound tolerant and fair minded Jim rejoined:

“I told my friends when Obama became president, that you had to accept it whether you liked it or not”.

Awkward silence.

And the inducement for the younger couple to announce their intentions to leave the table.

To her credit, Jim’s wife did attempt to lighten the atmosphere, making excuses for his manner on a couple of occasions.

My attempt at injecting some screamed for humour into the moment came with stating that the only thing I knew about Mobile, Alabama, was the Dylan song Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again. 

Stifling a knowing chuckle, our Illinois diners wished us good luck for the remainder of our trip as we both rose from the table.

Jim?

He just looked baffled and not a little flustered at the reference alone to another spawn of the devil.

But, in the admirable spirit of fairness and cooperation so often preached by his president, Jim enthusiastically took the two photographs seen here with Magretta, Chuck, Spike and Haley.

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St. Louis had been a revelation, and somewhere we are keen to return to in the near future. It had also been a joy to share Magretta and Chuck’s home for the past three nights.

The weather gods had been kind to us too, even to the extent of postponing the rain until this morning.

But it would be a wet ride to our final overnight stay in Peoria!

 

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