Day 2: Little Rock, AR - Pigeon Forge, TN

I've never been to the Vatican. Nor to Lords or Stratford. Nor to La Scala, actually. So I wasn't really ready for Gracelands. I find Elvis' music wonderful; his style ground-breaking; his life-story tragic. But I couldn't summon up the heart (or the cash) to fully participate.

I just don't think we Brits have anything approaching the reverence and enterprise which is required to create such a tangible cathedral for an individual, however extraordinary his talent; however sad his story. It's not just that we don't have a musician of that stature to worship (though maybe if you're one of a fab four, you can only expect 25% of the attention). And it's not just early death - where is the mecca for John Lennon fans? Strawberry Fields in Central Park. QED. Does anyone even know where George Harrison is buried? I wasn't even sure whether Ringo was still alive (apparently he was 70 last week - that's a sure-fire way to lose the public's attention and admiration, isn't it...).

I do have a plan, though. We'll take as read that I'm not so desperate for post-mortem glory as to self-destruct (and that I can't afford the planes and cars - but I don't think that would do it anyway - Beaulieu never made it). No, I reckon being buried in your own back yard is the way to draw the crowds. So, no-one's allowed to take my remains to Westminster Abbey where they can be viewed for free; I want a tomb on the patio in Plasnewydd Place.

And, in a small unbeautiful building on the rough side of town, I found my own way to stand amazed and enchanted by the Elvis' story, and the moments which changed not only his life but that of all musicians and music-lovers to come. I stood listening to the first radio broadcast of his first recording, in the studio where he and two others gathered round one solo mic; where the song the producer leapt on was simply an end-of-a-bad-day, is-this-ever-going-to-happen jam just to make themselves feel better. There's a lesson, if ever there was one.

Today’s statistics:

• Started driving: 7.44am (CST)
• Finished driving: 23.23 (EST)
  
• Miles: 570
• New States: 1
  
• New State license plates seen: 18 (and another Alaska – incredible)
• Favourite place-name: Soddy Daisy, TN
  
• Total towns called Carthage so far driven through: 2
• Breakfast: Starbucks, Little Rock
• Lunch: Macdonalds, Memphis (even that's a tiny bit rock'n'roll)
• Dinner: O'Charley's, Cookeville

Today's discoveries:

• Sunday morning is not a good time to be a tourist in Little Rock.
  
• Neon is alive and well in East Tennessee.
• The time-zone doesn't even follow the State border here; it's county by county. I can't work out what that means for commuters.
• The Mississippi River is bigger than you think it is.