July 8th
57,062 Miles
Hannibal, MO
It’s a patented Dave Belczyk wake-up call at 7:00, complete with hot cups of coffee and Bruce Springsteen on the record player.
He departs for work and Christina and I hit the road.
The drive through Illinois is marred only by a torrential downpour that forces traffic to a crawl on the freeway. I saw the upside as being a free car wash, hopefully rinsing some of the bugs off my front bumper.
We arrive in Hannibal in the late evening. The town is famous for being the boyhood home of Mark Twain, which is Christina’s interest in it. To me it resembles any of the many rundown
towns you’d find in the Appalachians or throughout the south.
Finding the bed and breakfast we’ve booked for the night is slightly difficult, as we have not quite gotten accustomed to the GPS and the way it issues directions. One phone call later we’re on the way.
The owner of the establishment is very nice, giving us a quick tour and showing us to our room. Mark Twain had stayed at the hotel, but we’re not in his former room (it’s extra if you want to book it).
Finding any place open past 9:00PM for dinner is not an easy task. After sticking our head in no less than three bars with no luck, we’re finally directed to Joe’s Diner, which is back up off the freeway.
Joe’s Diner fulfills our hopes for what a rural roadside diner should be, despite the fact (or perhaps because) that it’s attached to a gas station. I get the fried chicken. Christina gets a burger.
We watch Mean Girl on the in-room TV/DVD player while catching up with the WiFi. Bed and Breakfasts sure have come a long way.
The next morning we get some breakfast and stroll around the grounds. Then I drop Christina off in the center of town to visit the Mark Twain museum and other fascinating sites while I go off in search of the local YMCA.
After verifying with my home gym in Columbus that I’m really a member, I’m allowed to work out.
I pick her back up and we grab lunch.
After a quick stop by a cave that Mark Twain may or may not have ever been inside of, it’s time to head out to Kansas City.
The whole experience in Hannibal was pleasant, but not nearly as much of a cultural exposition for me as it was for Christina. I’m looking forward to Kansas City barbeque.
57,062 Miles
Hannibal, MO
It’s a patented Dave Belczyk wake-up call at 7:00, complete with hot cups of coffee and Bruce Springsteen on the record player.
He departs for work and Christina and I hit the road.
The drive through Illinois is marred only by a torrential downpour that forces traffic to a crawl on the freeway. I saw the upside as being a free car wash, hopefully rinsing some of the bugs off my front bumper.
We arrive in Hannibal in the late evening. The town is famous for being the boyhood home of Mark Twain, which is Christina’s interest in it. To me it resembles any of the many rundown
towns you’d find in the Appalachians or throughout the south.
Finding the bed and breakfast we’ve booked for the night is slightly difficult, as we have not quite gotten accustomed to the GPS and the way it issues directions. One phone call later we’re on the way.
The owner of the establishment is very nice, giving us a quick tour and showing us to our room. Mark Twain had stayed at the hotel, but we’re not in his former room (it’s extra if you want to book it).
Finding any place open past 9:00PM for dinner is not an easy task. After sticking our head in no less than three bars with no luck, we’re finally directed to Joe’s Diner, which is back up off the freeway.
Joe’s Diner fulfills our hopes for what a rural roadside diner should be, despite the fact (or perhaps because) that it’s attached to a gas station. I get the fried chicken. Christina gets a burger.
We watch Mean Girl on the in-room TV/DVD player while catching up with the WiFi. Bed and Breakfasts sure have come a long way.
The next morning we get some breakfast and stroll around the grounds. Then I drop Christina off in the center of town to visit the Mark Twain museum and other fascinating sites while I go off in search of the local YMCA.
After verifying with my home gym in Columbus that I’m really a member, I’m allowed to work out.
I pick her back up and we grab lunch.
After a quick stop by a cave that Mark Twain may or may not have ever been inside of, it’s time to head out to Kansas City.
The whole experience in Hannibal was pleasant, but not nearly as much of a cultural exposition for me as it was for Christina. I’m looking forward to Kansas City barbeque.
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