Being my first time really travelling and all, I've been very conscious of being too much of a 'tourist'. I want to be a 'traveller' and have done all I can to steer clear of feeling too much like a photo-taking, souvenier-buying, oohing-ahhing bright eyed tourist - and that means, occassionally foregoing some of the more tourist-heavy hotspots. But I couldn't come to Memphis and pay hommage to the King, right?
So I donned my blue seude shoes and made the epic trip out to Graceland to say G'day to Elvis Presley.
And when I say epic, I mean epic. The public transport in Memphis leaves much to be desired. Trying to get from my hostel (which is on the outer suburbs in the middle of nowhere) to Downtown via bus is a touch-and-go experience. One morning, I made it all the way with my connecting buses arriving on time - a small achievement for a traveller. Today, I ended up walking about 4 miles to get back to my hostel from the city (simply to save the 10 bucks I'd have to shell for a cab). Thankfully, a free bus runs between Graceland, Sun Studio and the Rock n Soul Museum so once you make it to Down Town, it's fairly easy to get between all three.
Graceland is a 10 minute drive out of Downtown Memphis and is just one part of the sprawling metropolis that is Elvis Boulevard. There's the Graceland mansion itself and then there is every touristy extra you could ask for - gift stores, additional museums showcasing his cars and airplanes, photobooths, Heartbreak Hotel for the real Elvis enthusiasts. It's all quite an experience. As is the mansion itself. Okay, I'll admit. Me and my tourist-allergy were dubious of both the mansion and the $30 I had to pay to get in it. But that being said, the experience itself was kinda, sorta, just-a-little, okay, pretty damn worthwhile.
I was in the house of The King! The man who changed music forever, the man who has sold more records than any other musician in history. In his very house where he walked around in his pyjamas making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. That's pretty cool, right?
The mansion isn't all that big, but the furniture and interior decorating makes up for the size. The rooms are still fitted out with original interiors, which include a 'jungle room' that's full of fur furniture and plush green carpet and an indoor racketball court that Elvis had made escpecially - seems he was a bit of a racketball enthusiast. There's a field for horses, a basement dedicated to televisions and Lisa Marie's original swingset. And then, out by the pool, is Elvis's grave which is now more of a shrine than a grave site. He rests next to his parents and grandmother and the whole 'meditation garden' (as it's been coined) is covered in dedications - posters, floral gardens, candles - that his fans have brought from all over the world. More come every day and it's the rule of the mansion to accept every dedication and keep it by his grave until it wears or withers.
The most touching tale I heard was while I was waiting in line for the bus back to the Elvis-epicentre. One of the mansion staff was remarking to a couple about the amount of visitors they'd had in the last month (having recently been Elvis's birthday). She said a family with kids arrived and the kids started asking when they would get to see Elvis, eventually bursting into tears when their parents explained that Elvis had passed away. A story like that melts even an anti-tourist's heart.
Ciao for now. xo
