Georgia

My route across Georgia was largely dictated by my interest in visiting Plains, the home of Jimmy Carter. As is often the case with these detours, I got to see some aspects of rural USA that you simply don't see with the Interstates and their anodyne strip malls along the frontage roads.

Georgia didn't disappoint. It's a huge state, and I was reminded of the vastness of some of the states that have the Rockies run through them. But Georgia is different, with agriculture replacing the barren plains. Pecan, cotton and corn and tiny towns that seemed more vibrant, if still sleepy, compared to many towns I had seen in more mountainous regions. Also black people were centre stage, rather than peripheral characters, and made up most of the population I saw.

My arrival in Georgia was dramatic, with the swollen Chattahoochee River drowning out a few riverside communities. I hadn't been aware of significant rainfall, but I guess there must have been upstream.

Plains is cute and seems to have survived its association with a past president pretty well. It's a tiny village but as fitting a tribute to one of America's presidents as the Lincoln Memorial or the Hoover Dam.

Heading West towards the Atlantic Seaboard I arrive at Savannah, a charming city and quite a contrast with rural Georgia. Sherman's March to the Sea in the Civil War destroyed much of Georgia, like a plague of locusts would, but Savannah negotiated an agreement by which it would be spared. Across the Savannah river lies another state of the confederacy, South Carolina, my next destination.

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